My Bratty Wife
Chapter 66 - Sixty Six

Chapter 66: Chapter Sixty Six

Suzy trailed behind Doris, her steps uncharacteristically slow. Her cheeks still burned faintly from the encounter with Ryan, and a strange flutter filled her chest. Why was she feeling this way? She hadn’t done anything wrong, had she? A stray thought of Ryan’s touch on her lips sent a shiver down her spine, and her heart hammered against her ribs with a beat that was far from normal.

They reached the grand ballroom, and Suzy straightened her posture, pushing away the confusing emotions. There, in the center of the room, stood Miss Adeline, still barking orders at the flustered servants. Her voice was rude, sharp and commanding, her movements efficient and precise.

"Miss Adeline?" Suzy called out, her voice clear and surprisingly calm.

Miss Adeline turned around, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face at the interruption. "What’s it now, Duchess?" she snapped, her perfectly arched eyebrows raised in a question.

Suzy met her gaze unflinchingly, a subtle smile playing on her lips. "Your services are no longer required, Miss Adeline," she announced, her voice laced with a newfound authority. "You may use the door."

Adeline’s eyes widened in surprise. The arrogance with which she’d been treating the staff and Suzy herself seemed to falter for a moment. "I don’t take orders from you," she countered, a hint of defiance creeping into her voice. "Only from His Grace."

Suzy’s smile widened, this time with a hint of amusement and something a little more dangerous. "Do you know, Adeline," she began, her voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr, "I have a bad habit of slapping the faces of... unfortunate people." She paused, letting the weight of her words hang in the air. "Do you want to be unfortunate, Adeline?

Miss Adeline stared at Suzy, a mixture of shock and fear flickering in her eyes. Suzy, relishing the effect she was having, leaned in even closer, her voice a mere breath away.

"Don’t be unfortunate Miss Adeline." Suzy purred, her words laced with a veiled threat. "Or wouldn’t you prefer to leave with your dignity and your brain intact? Because trust me, darling, if you push me, my hands will be quite happy to introduce your cheek to the closest wall, and your brain may experience a rather abrupt... reset."

The playful facade had vanished, replaced by a steely glint in Suzy’s eyes. The air crackled with tension, and Adeline, for the first time since arriving at the castle, felt a sliver of fear pierce her confident facade.

Suzy’s words, delivered with a calm yet terrifying firmness, left Adeline speechless. Gone was the arrogant young woman who’d been ordering everyone around. In her place stood a frightened girl, suddenly unsure of her footing.

Without another word, Adeline scrambled to gather her belongings, her movements betraying a newfound urgency. Just as she was about to storm out of the room, Suzy’s voice stopped her again.

"Oh, and Miss Adeline," Suzy called out, her voice back to its usual aristocratic tone, "Mr. Bradford will see to your compensation and escort you out. Do enjoy the rest of your day."

Adeline shot Suzy a venomous look but wisely held her tongue. Turning on her heel, she marched out of the ballroom, Mr Bradford trailing apologetically behind her, her departure marked by a stunned silence among the servants.

Suzy, a triumphant smile gracing her lips, addressed the bewildered crowd. "Alright everyone," she announced, her voice radiating confidence, "let’s get back to work! We have a ball to prepare, and I expect nothing less than perfection."

The servants, shaken but clearly impressed by the Duchess’s display of power, scurried back to their tasks. Doris, a proud glint in her eyes, stood beside Suzy, a silent testament to the Duchess’s strength and determination.

Suzy, with a newfound purpose in her step, took charge of the ballroom. Her approach was different from Miss Adeline’s barking orders. Suzy moved with a calm grace, her instructions delivered with a smile and a genuine appreciation for the staff’s hard work.

"Mr. Jennings," she addressed the head decorator, a man with a mop of silver hair and a twinkle in his eye, "your floral arrangements are always breathtaking. I was hoping for a touch of springtime in the grand hall, perhaps with cascading lilies and a hint of lavender?"

Mr. Jennings beamed, his chest puffing out with pride. "Duchess," he replied in a thick brogue, "leave it to me! The grand hall will be transformed into a veritable spring meadow by tomorrow."

Suzy then approached Mary, the head housekeeper, who stood overseeing the cleaning of a nearby portrait. "Mary," Suzy said, her voice warm, "please ensure the maids attend to every corner of the ballroom. We want it to be absolutely spotless for our guests."

Mary, annoyed by Miss Adeline’s barking order, was relieved by the Duchess’s gentle approach. She nodded vigorously, a small smile playing on her lips. "Of course, Duchess," she replied, "not a speck of dust will dare show its face."

The change in atmosphere was palpable. Gone was the tension that had hung heavy under Miss Adeline’s command. Instead, a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose filled the room. The staff, no longer feeling like cogs in a machine, moved with newfound enthusiasm, their tasks taking on a sense of pride.

Suzy, her spirit lifted by the positive energy, continued her rounds. In the bustling kitchen, the scent of roasting meat and baking bread filled the air. Mrs. Madelyn, the head cook, a woman whose booming voice could rival any thunderclap, oversaw her team with a practiced eye.

"Mrs. Madelyn," Suzy called out, her voice barely audible over the rhythmic clatter of pots and pans. "The feast you prepare for our guests is always a marvel. I can already smell the deliciousness from here!"

Mrs. Madelyn, her face creased in a wide grin, stopped stirring a massive pot of stew. "Duchess," she boomed, wiping her brow on a flour-dusted apron, "you’re too kind! We are just marinating the food to be cooked tomorrow morning. We’ll have a spread fit for a king, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that!"

Suzy laughed, the sound echoing through the kitchen. She thanked Mrs. Madelyn for her hard work and assured her of the staff’s appreciation for the culinary magic being created.

As she moved on, she encountered Mr. Bradford returning from escorting Miss Adeline out. He looked relieved, a hint of amusement lingering in his eyes.

"Mr. Bradford," Suzy greeted him, "everything settled with Miss Adeline?"

Mr. Bradford chuckled. "Yes, Duchess," he confirmed. "She... didn’t put up much of a fight once you made your position clear."

Suzy smiled. "Excellent." She then launched into a series of questions, her voice a steady stream of efficiency. "Are the security measures in place for tomorrow night?"

"Yes, Duchess," Mr. Bradford replied. "Extra guards have been posted around the perimeter, and the access points are all under strict surveillance."

"Good. And the wine selection for the cellar?"

"Fully stocked, Duchess, with a variety to please even the most discerning palate."

"Music?"

"The orchestra is arriving first thing tomorrow morning to set up and soundcheck."

"Invitations? Have all the confirmed guests received theirs?"

"Every last one, Duchess. We’re expecting a full house tomorrow night."

Suzy nodded, a wave of satisfaction washing over her. Everything was coming together perfectly. The preparations were on track, the staff was motivated, and the excitement for the ball was palpable.

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In a dimly lit room of another grand house, a world away from the bustling Carleton Castle, a different kind of preparation unfolded. A woman, her dark straight hair cascading down her back in a waterfall of midnight silk, stood amidst a table overflowing with exquisite porcelain. Her lips, painted a deep red, were pursed in concentration as she addressed a young servant boy scurrying around with a stack of delicate porcelain boxes.

"Owen," she called out, her voice clear and commanding, "are the ceramic figurines ready?"

The boy, barely out of his teens, jumped slightly. "Yes, ma’am!" he stammered, clutching the boxes tighter.

A satisfied smile curved the young woman’s lips. "Excellent," she said, her voice softening slightly. "Now, be very careful. Check each one carefully for even the smallest crack. Wrap them in the finest silk, as these are valuable gifts..." she paused, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her dark eyes, "for the Carleton Ball."

Owen nodded vigorously. "I understand, Ma’am," he replied, his voice respectful.

She waved him off with a dismissive gesture. "Good," she murmured, her gaze trailing to the closed door. As it clicked shut behind Owen, a wave of nervous excitement washed over her. She had spent days selecting these specific figurines, each one must be perfect for the ball.

She exhaled a plume of fragrant smoke, a wisp curling lazily towards the high ceiling. In her hand, a lit cigar glowed red, its embers reflecting in her dark brown eyes.

"It’s been a while," she mused, her voice a low murmur as she took another deep drag. A flicker of something akin to nervousness crossed her features, a stark contrast to the composed demeanor she usually presented. "A little too long, perhaps."

She stubbed out the cigar in an ornate ashtray, the sharp hiss a punctuation mark in the quiet room. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture, a resolute glint replacing the hint of unease in her eyes.

"See you tomorrow, Ryan," her voice tinged with a hint of anticipation.