My Bratty Wife
Chapter 63 - Sixty Three

Chapter 63: Chapter Sixty Three

Suzy huddled beneath a thick woolen blanket, the warmth slowly seeping into her chilled bones. Doris bustled around her, replacing the wet cloak and nightgown with a soft, dry sleeping dress. In her hand, Suzy clutched a steaming mug filled with a strange-smelling but surprisingly soothing tea.

Dr. Abernathy, a kindly man with a gentle demeanor, perched on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on Suzy with concern. "There, there, Duchess," he said softly. "You’re safe now. The tea will help calm your nerves."

Suzy took a tentative sip, the strong herbal mixture sending a warming sensation down her throat. She looked at the doctor, a flicker of gratitude flickering in her eyes. "Thank you, Dr. Abernathy," she murmured, her voice hoarse from the cold.

"It seems you’ve had quite a scare," the doctor observed, his voice gentle. "Your heart rate was quite elevated when you arrived, and you were having difficulty breathing. These are all common symptoms of someone experiencing a great shock."

Suzy nodded, a wave of exhaustion washing over her. The events of the night – the dream, the frantic journey to the well, the confrontation with Ryan – played out in her mind like a fever dream.

"Extreme fatigue," the doctor continued, "can also manifest in such a way, especially when coupled with severe stress. You need rest, Duchess. That is the best medicine for now."

Doris, who had finished tucking Suzy into bed, stepped forward. "Dr. Abernathy," she queried, holding up a small pouch containing several tea bags, "what about these? Should I continue with them?"

The doctor examined the pouch, a smile gracing his lips. "Ah, yes, these are all calming herbal blend. An excellent choice. Infuse one in the Duchess’s tea each morning for the next three days. It will help ease her anxiety and promote restful sleep."

"Thank you, Doctor," Doris replied, tucking the pouch into her pocket. "I’ll be sure to do that."

Dr. Abernathy gave Suzy’s hand a gentle squeeze. "Now, Duchess," he said, "try to get some rest. Your body needs time to recover."

Suzy nodded, her eyelids growing heavy. The warmth from the blanket, the soothing scent of the tea, and the doctor’s calming presence all conspired to bring a wave of drowsiness over her.

"Good night, Dr. Abernathy," she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.

"Good night, Duchess," the doctor replied, his voice filled with genuine care. With a final reassuring smile, he rose from the bed and followed Doris out of the room.

The door closed softly behind them, plunging the room into a comforting quiet. Suzy snuggled deeper into the blankets, the hot mug clutched in her hand.

The events of the night still hung heavy on her mind, but for now, exhaustion won out over fear.

A few minutes after Dr. Abernathy and Doris left, the silence in the room was broken by the creak of the door opening softly. Doris peeked in, her eyes filled with concern.

"Milady?" she inquired gently.

Suzy, her eyes still closed, cracked them open a sliver. "Yes, Doris?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"I just wanted to check on you," Doris replied, her voice a soft murmur. "How are you feeling?"

Suzy sighed, the events of the night still swirling in her mind. "Exhausted," she admitted. "But... better."

Doris nodded, her gaze flitting around the room. "Where’s Noah?" Suzy asked, noticing Doris’s wandering eyes.

"I haven’t seen him, Milady," Doris replied. "His Grace told him to call for me and Dr. Abernathy, and then..." she trailed off, unsure of how to proceed.

Suzy understood. Ryan’s anger and the urgency of the situation had likely prompted him to dismiss Noah without further explanation. "Perhaps he’s returned to his quarters," Suzy said, her voice tired. "He must be exhausted after chasing me through the storm."

A faint smile touched Doris’ lips. "Indeed, Milady. We all need our rest tonight."

Suzy winced at the reminder of her recklessness. "Yes," she agreed softly. "He probably needs rest as much as I do."

Doris gave a small smile. "Indeed, Milady. You should both get some sleep. Tomorrow is a new day."

"You too, Doris," Suzy said softly. "I know this whole ordeal must have been quite a shock for you. Please, go and get some rest. You need it."

Doris smiled warmly. "Of course, Milady," she replied. "But only after I’m certain you’re settled in comfortably. Are you sure you’ll be alright here alone?"

Suzy snuggled deeper into the bed, the warmth a welcome comfort. She glanced at the mug of tea, now tepid but still fragrant. "Yes, Doris," she said with a small smile. "I’ll be perfectly fine. The tea has helped me calm down, and I’m feeling quite sleepy."

Doris, satisfied with Suzy’s response, began tidying up the few remaining items left scattered from her earlier ministrations. "Very well, Milady," she said, her voice soft. "If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ring the bell. I’ll be in my chambers."

Suzy nodded, a wave of drowsiness washing over her. "Thank you, Doris," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "Good night."

Doris smiled once more, a comforting presence in the dimly lit room. "Good night, Milady," she replied, her voice a gentle whisper. She lingered for a moment, watching as Suzy’s breathing fell into a slow, steady rhythm. With a final reassuring glance, she extinguished the bedside lamp, plunging the room into a soft darkness.

Left alone with the crackling fire and the gentle patter of rain, Suzy closed her eyes.

Exhaustion finally won over fear. Sleep, a much-needed escape, claimed her. And as she drifted off, she hoped that with the dawn, a semblance of order and understanding would return to her life, replacing the storm that raged both outside and within.

——————————

A lone figure emerged from the rain-battered night, his form shrouded in a dark, hooded cloak. The storm raged around him, the wind whipping at his cloak like a hungry beast. He approached the imposing iron gates of a secluded manor, its silhouette a brooding monolith against the lightning-streaked sky.

Reaching the gate, he stopped, the rain cascading off his hood and soaking his clothes. His gloved hand rapped a sharp, rhythmic beat on the iron gates. Silence stretched for a moment, the only sound the relentless drumming of the rain.

Then, from within, a voice rasped through a hidden speaker, tinged with suspicion. "Who is it?"

The figure leaned closer, his voice barely audible over the storm’s fury. "A friend," he replied, his voice disguised, a low rumble that vibrated in the speaker. "I’m here to see the... boss."

Another tense pause, followed by a metallic click as the lock on the gate disengaged. The heavy doors groaned open, revealing a narrow passage shrouded in darkness.

The figure stepped through, his boots echoing on the slick cobblestone path. The gate clanged shut behind him with a resounding boom, sealing him off from the outside world. He continued his journey, his cloak billowing out behind him like a phantom’s shroud.

He followed the path deeper into the manor grounds, the rain an icy curtain against his face. The only light came from the occasional flickering gas lamp, casting long, distorted shadows that danced on the walls.

Finally, he reached a heavy oak door at the end of the hallway. He paused for a moment, gathering himself. The air around the door felt thick with anticipation, a tangible weight pressing down on him.

With a deep breath, he raised a gloved hand and knocked three times, a slow, deliberate rhythm. Silence again, broken only by the dripping of rain from the overhanging roof.

Then, a voice from within, cold and emotionless, echoed through the door. "Enter."

The figure pushed open the door, revealing a dimly lit room filled with shadows. A single figure sat behind a large oak desk, their form obscured by the darkness. The storm’s fury seemed muted here, replaced by an unnerving stillness.

The figure in the cloak stepped inside, his boots sinking slightly into the thick carpet. He closed the door softly behind him, shutting out the world and leaving him alone with the mysterious figure at the desk.

"You came," the voice from behind the desk rasped, a hint of surprise laced with satisfaction.

The cloaked figure remained silent, a tense standoff playing out in the flickering candlelight.

The figure behind the desk spoke first, their voice sending shivers down the cloaked figure’s spine. "Any news?"

The cloaked figure remained silent for a moment, the only sound the crackling fire in the hearth casting an orange glow on the room’s edges. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and distorted by the hood. "There’s... a possibility. I believe she might be remembering something."

The figure behind the desk leaned forward, a flicker of interest momentarily breaking the darkness. "Interesting," they rasped, the word heavy with implication. "Elaborate."

The cloaked figure recounted the events of the night in a monotone, describing Suzy’s frantic flight into the storm, her fear, and her desperate journey to the well. He spoke of her mumbled words, the terror etched on her face, all details carefully observed and reported.

As he finished, the figure behind the desk steepled their fingers, their silhouette radiating an aura of cold calculation. "This changes things," they mused, their voice a low murmur. "Halt any... operations currently planned. Focus all your efforts on her."

A flicker of surprise, quickly masked, crossed the cloaked figure’s features. "Focus on the Duchess?" he questioned, his voice barely a whisper.

"Precisely," the figure behind the desk replied, their voice hardening. "We need information. She’s clearly troubled, on the verge of remembering something. You are with her constantly, are you not? Get closer. Become a confidant. Earn her trust. Use that... closeness to gather every detail. I want to know if she remembers everything."

The cloaked figure bowed his head in subservience. As he did so, a flash of lightning illuminated the room, revealing a pair of sharp brown eyes glinting with a disturbing intelligence. But the light was fleeting, and the figure behind the desk was once again shrouded in shadow.

"Anything else?" the voice rasped, breaking the silence that followed the cloaked figure’s bow.

The cloaked figure shook his head, his voice barely a murmur. "No, master. That is all for now."

The figure behind the desk leaned back in their chair, their form disappearing back into the shadows. "Excellent," they said, their voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction. "Proceed with caution, but with urgency.