My Bratty Wife
Chapter 52 - Fifty Two

Chapter 52: Chapter Fifty Two

Dawn’s pale light was just beginning to peek over the horizon when Suzy emerged from the woods, a damp cloth clutched in her hand. The events of the previous night still played on a loop in her mind – the terrifying gunfight, Ryan’s injury, and his subsequent collapse.

She had spent the better part of the night tending to him, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. But there was no time for rest. The horses, spooked by the gunfire, had bolted, and she had spent a harrowing hour tracking them down before venturing into the woods to find a stream.

Now, with the chill of the early morning air biting at her exposed skin, she hurried back to the carriage. Relief flooded her when she saw Ryan lying motionless on the makeshift bed. He looked pale, his brow furrowed in discomfort.

She knelt beside him, placing the damp cloth on his forehead. His skin felt hot, burning to the touch. Panic clawed at her throat. He had a fever.

"Ryan," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. She gently shook his shoulder, hoping to rouse him.

He stirred, his eyelids fluttering open. Disoriented and clearly in pain, he mumbled incoherently for a moment before focusing on her.

"Duchess?" he croaked, his voice raspy.

"It’s alright," she soothed, her voice calm despite the churning in her stomach. "You have a fever. I went to find some water."

He tried to sit up, but a groan escaped his lips as a wave of pain washed over him. "Easy," she cautioned, gently pushing him back down. "Don’t try to move."

She soaked the cloth again, wiping his face and neck in an attempt to cool him down. His eyes fluttered closed once more, but this time, his breathing seemed to ease a little.

Hunger gnawed at Suzy’s stomach, but the lack of supplies gnawed at her even more. While they were sleeping in the carriage last night, a band of thieves surrounded their carriage. They meant no real harm just wanted money, she gave them the money they have in exchange they guard the carriage through the night.

With a sigh, she scanned the surrounding landscape, her eyes finally landing on a sight that brought a small smile to her lips. A lone apple tree stood proudly in a nearby clearing, its branches laden with plump, red fruit.

"Perfect," she muttered to herself, a sense of hope flickering within her. Food might be scarce, but nature always provided for those who knew where to look.

With a determined look, she approached the trees, their branches laden with plump, red apples. Climbing wasn’t exactly a ladylike activity, but needs must. Ignoring the rustle of her skirts, she hoisted herself up the rough bark, her movements surprisingly agile.

Reaching a sturdy branch, she perched herself precariously, her gaze sweeping over the bounty before her. Picking an apple with a rosy blush, she took a large bite, the sweet, tart juice making her groan in delight. Hunger momentarily forgotten, she proceeded to fill her pockets with the fruit, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.

Just as she was about to climb down, a treacherous branch beneath her gave way with a sickening crack. Suzy yelped in surprise, losing her balance and tumbling towards the ground. She landed with a soft thud, the wind momentarily knocked out of her.

Sitting up and gingerly brushing herself off, she assessed the damage. A stinging sensation on her arm made her wince. Pulling back her sleeve, she discovered a nasty scratch, a thin line of red marred by a few beads of blood.

"Great," she muttered under her breath, frustration bubbling within her. One injury seemed to attract another. All she needed was a new injury to add to the growing list.

She gingerly climbed to her feet and limped back towards the carriage, the wicker basket she got from the Queen weighed down with the stolen apples. As she rounded a bend in the road, she stopped short, her eyes widening in surprise.

Ryan wasn’t in the carriage. Instead, he was standing near the horse, fiddling with the harness, his back to her. He seemed taller, broader somehow, his movements purposeful.

"Ryan?" she called out hesitantly. He turned at the sound of her voice, his face a mixture of surprise and concern.

He looked significantly better than the previous evening, his color returning and his movements are now agile.

He turned, his gaze landing on her, and a flicker of surprise crossed his features. Then, his eyes traveled to the basket overflowing with apples.

"Where did those come from?" he asked.

"A friendly neighborhood apple tree," she replied with a grin, holding up the basket. "Thought we all could use a little something to eat."

He raised an eyebrow, he let out a chilly sound that sent a shiver down her spine. "You climbed a tree?"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures," she quipped, shrugging nonchalantly.

He approached her, his eyes lingering on the scrape on her arm. "And a scratch for your troubles," he observed.

Suzy followed his gaze, the sting of the wound momentarily forgotten. "It’s nothing," she dismissed.

"How are you feeling?" she finally asked, breaking the awkwardness.

He shrugged, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Fine. Good enough to continue traveling."

"I’m relieved" she said , her voice laced with concern.

"Okay," he finally muttered, his voice gruff.

Suzy bristled. Okay? He had been the one to put them in this situation, the one to blindly charge into danger. "No need for thanks, Your Grace," she retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm. "We both played our part. You took care of the attacker, I... well, I tended to your wounds. We’re even."

Ryan’s jaw clenched, and a flicker of anger ignited in his eyes. "That doesn’t mean I needed your help," he snapped. "I am perfectly capable of handling myself."

Suzy scoffed. "And apparently, perfectly capable of putting yourself and others in danger." She winced as a sharp pain shot through her scratched arm, a physical reminder of their reckless detour.

Ryan opened his mouth to retort, but the words seemed to die in his throat. He looked away, his face uncharacteristically pale. Perhaps the fever had taken a toll on him more than he was letting on.

Suzy, despite the anger simmering within her, felt a pang of concern. But before she could say anything, he spoke, his voice quieter this time.

"We need to move," he said, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "Carleton is still a long way off."

Suzy knew he was right. Dwelling on their grievances wouldn’t help them face whatever dangers lurked on the road ahead. With a sigh, she nodded curtly in agreement.

He helped her climb into the carriage, the silence between them heavy and oppressive. The journey resumed, the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the road the only sound breaking the tense atmosphere.

—————

The familiar gates of Carleton Castle loomed ahead, a sight that brought a wave of relief washing over Suzy. The journey back had been arduous, the tension between her and Ryan simmering just beneath the surface. But the sight of home, of safety, momentarily eclipsed everything else.

The carriage rolled to a halt with a flourish, the gravel crunching under the wheels. Davis, his face etched with concern, rushed over to the door. "Your Graces!" he exclaimed, throwing open the carriage door with a dramatic flourish.

Suzy tumbled out, her legs wobbly from the long journey and the emotional toll of the attack. Several maids, led by Doris, materialized at her side, their faces filled with a mixture of relief and worry.

"Milady!" Doris cried, her voice laced with concern. "You look dreadful! Come inside, let’s get you cleaned up and settled."

Before Suzy could respond, two of the maids gently but firmly ushered her towards the entrance of the castle. The frantic bustle of activity around her was a stark contrast to the tense silence that had dominated the carriage ride.

"Dr. Abernathy is on his way, Milady," Doris informed Suzy, her voice soothing. "Don’t you worry a bit. You’ll be feeling right as rain in no time."

Suzy nodded her thanks, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. The adrenaline that had fueled her through the ordeal was starting to wear off, leaving her body aching and her mind reeling from the events.

Meanwhile, Ryan emerged from the horse, his movements stiff and a grimace etched on his face. Davis hurried to his side, his gaze flickering to the cloth wrapped around Ryan’s upper arm.

"Your Grace," Davis began, his voice a low murmur. "Should I call for the doctor as well?"

Ryan grunted in response, his jaw clenched tight. The journey had been taxing, the pain in his arm a constant reminder of the attack.

Ryan hesitated for a moment, then nodded curtly. "Yes, see to it. And send word to Byron and Thorne. Inform them of my return and request a meeting from Thorne in my chambers at his earliest convenience."

Davis bowed his head in acknowledgement, his eyes flickering with unspoken concern. The events of the journey, the tense atmosphere between Ryan and Suzy, were not new to him. But he knew better than to pry. His duty was to follow orders, and that’s exactly what he would do.

As Davis scurried off to fulfill his tasks, Ryan turned and walked towards the imposing oak doors of the manor.