My Bratty Wife
Chapter 41 - Forty One

Chapter 41: Chapter Forty One

Suzy dipped her quill into the inkwell, carefully adding another dish to the elaborate menu for the upcoming ball. A sense of accomplishment bloomed in her chest. Poring over the Carleton ball books had been surprisingly fruitful. She’s almost done with the budgeting, guest etiquette, and even the logistics of food preparation for the ball.

Suddenly, a memory jolted her back to reality. Flipping through one of the books, she recalled a specific passage – the importance of hiring temporary staff for such grand events. Her smile faltered. She’d completely forgotten to factor that expense into the budget she’d presented to Ryan.

She had carefully planned the decorations, entertainment, and even the guest list, but the need for extra staff had completely slipped her mind. A wave of panic washed over her. How could she have forgotten such a crucial detail?

"Damn it!" she muttered, chewing on her lower lip. Ignoring this crucial detail wouldn’t do. Ryan, for all his stoicism, was careful about finances. He’d surely notice the mistake.

She grabbed a fresh sheet of parchment and a quill. Her mind raced as she began to list down the tasks that would require additional manpower – serving, cleaning, last-minute decorations, and managing the ballroom. The list grew longer with each passing moment, the enormity of her mistake settling in.

"I have to tell Ryan," she thought, her stomach churning with apprehension. She knew he wouldn’t be pleased, but there was no way she could hide this oversight. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself for the inevitable confrontation.

A frown creased Suzy’s brow as she clutched the list in her sweaty hand. Reaching Ryan’s study, she pushed open the door, only to find it empty. The room was bathed in the warm afternoon sun, the remnants of his work scattered across the desk. Disappointment gnawed at her.

"Just where has he gone off to now?" she muttered to herself.

Turning to leave, she bumped right into Davis, who was exiting the hallway opposite the study.

Suzy startled, nearly dropping the list. "Oh! Davis," she exclaimed, relieved to see a familiar face. "I didn’t hear you come in."

Davis inclined his head in a respectful bow. "Forgive me, Duchess. I didn’t mean to startle you."

"No worries," Suzy said, regaining her composure. "Have you seen Ryan? I needed to speak with him."

Davis’s expression remained unreadable. "His Grace had a meeting in his study earlier, Duchess," he explained, his voice a low rumble. "Afterward, he retired to his chambers."

"His chambers?" Suzy repeated, surprised. Ryan rarely retreated to his room during the day. "Thank you, Davis," she said, unsure of what to make of his seclusion.

With a slight bow of his head, Davis retreated back down the hallway, leaving Suzy alone in the doorway. She hesitated for a moment, the list of extra staff needs feeling heavier in her hand. Should she interrupt him, or wait for a more opportune time?

Taking a deep breath, Suzy decided to face the situation head-on. There was too much to be done in preparation for the ball, and Ryan needed to know about the additional staff as soon as possible.

Suzy found herself standing outside Ryan’s chambers, a nervous flutter in her stomach. This was the first time she’d ever dared to approach his private sanctuary. Steeling her nerves, she knocked twice on the heavy oak door.

Silence.

Hesitantly, she tried again, but there was no answer. A surge of uncertainty washed over her. Should she simply wait, or...?

Hesitantly, she reached out and pushed the door open a crack. A wave of warm sunlight and a faint scent of expensive cologne spilled out, beckoning her in. Mustering her courage, she pushed the door wider, stepping into Ryan’s world.

The room was a tad different to her own chambers. A plush rug, woven in intricate patterns and deep, jewel tones, stretched across the gleaming hardwood floor. Sunlight streamed through expansive windows, illuminating the ornately carved furniture – a massive mahogany desk in one corner, a towering bookshelf overflowing with leather-bound volumes in another.

A king-sized bed, draped in rich velvet curtains and piled high with snowy white pillows, dominated the center of the room. It dwarfed the one in her own bedroom, a reminder of the vast difference between their lives.

"This is..." she murmured to herself, her initial apprehension giving way to a grudging admiration. Despite Ryan’s stoicism, his taste for luxury was undeniable.

Suzy scanned the room, taking in the details. A crackling fire danced merrily in a grand marble fireplace, lending a touch of warmth to the otherwise imposing space. A collection of polished swords and pistols hung proudly on the wall, glinting in the firelight. It wasn’t just luxurious; it spoke volumes about Ryan, about his power, his status, and perhaps even a hint of hidden violence.

But something else caught her eye, drawing her gaze towards the corner of the room. There, propped against a table, stood three empty bottles of the same potent wine she had tasted – or rather, spat out – in Ryan’s study, the same one that had burned its way down her throat. Beside them sat a half-empty fourth bottle, its dark red contents swirling within.

"Three?" she whispered to herself, a sudden frown creased her brow. This was unexpected. Ryan, with his rigid control, indulging in such a way? He wasn’t one for excessive drinking. It was completely out of character. Had something happened during the meeting? Was he trying to drown his sorrows, or perhaps celebrating something she wasn’t aware of?

The luxurious setting of Ryan’s room faded into the background as her gaze fell upon him. He sprawled listlessly in his armchair, a striking difference to the composed figure she was used to seeing. "Ryan?" she called out softly, her voice barely a whisper. He didn’t stir. A frown etched itself onto her face.

His dark hair, usually carefully styled, was now a mess of disheveled waves that framed his face in a way Suzy had never seen before. His normally crisp shirt was wrinkled, the top two buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of pale skin.

He seemed... vulnerable. His head lolled back against the chair, his face flushed, and his chest rose and fell with slow, heavy breaths.

Driven by a strange curiosity, she took a hesitant step forward. The plush carpet muffled the sound of her approach. She inched closer, her gaze fixed on his face. As she drew near, the warmth from the fire caressed her skin, and a faint scent of cinnamon and strong wine filled her senses.

Carefully, she leaned forward, peering around the back of the chair to get a better view. Her heart gave a little skip as her curly hair brushed against his cheek, eliciting a faint flicker of movement from him.

A muffled groan escaped Ryan’s lips as he stirred in the chair. His eyelids fluttered open slowly, revealing eyes glazed with intoxication. The firelight cast long, flickering shadows across the room, distorting the figure standing before him. He blinked, trying to focus. A woman with a cascade of dark straight hair loomed over him, her face a blur in the dim light.

"You’re here?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep and intoxication. Her scent, a mix of lavender and something faintly floral, filled his nostrils. He reached out a hand, his fingers brushing against a soft touch. He gave her a soft, sleepy smile.

Suddenly, a jolt of recognition seemed to spark within him. He held her wrist pulling her closer, his head spinning. Their faces hovered inches apart, his warm breath tickling her nostrils, a scene frozen in the firelight’s glow. With a desperate urgency in his voice, he rasped, "Elean..." The name tumbled out, a whisper against his lips. It was a name he hadn’t spoken in years, a name that belonged to a past he’d locked away.

Suzy’s breath caught in her throat. Elean? What is this man saying? What’s an Elean?

Before she could even process the word , or the sudden intimacy of the moment, Ryan slumped back in his chair, his eyelids fluttering shut once more. A loose strand of her hair brushed against his cheek, and he let out a sigh, a sigh that seemed to hold a lifetime of weariness. He was asleep again, lost in the warm embrace of unconsciousness.

Suzy stared at him, her mind racing. What was that about? A million questions swirled in her head, unanswered and unsettling.

There was silence. Ryan’s breathing had become slow and even, the deep inhales and exhales the only sign of life. He was asleep, lost once more in the clutches of the potent wine.

With a shake of her head, she gently removed his hand from hers. With a sigh, she straightened her clothes, the lingering warmth of his touch lingering on her skin. The list of staff needs, forgotten for a moment, felt heavy in her hand. She decided to drop it on his study desk as she left the room, leaving the sleeping figure.