Two days had passed since her enlightening encounter with Elias in the library. Suzy, now fully embracing her role as Duchess Cassandra (at least in public), had become a regular fixture in the castle library. Elias had become her invaluable guide.
Under his guidance, Suzy's understanding of the castle deepened. She devoured books on its history, learning about its construction centuries ago, the battles fought and won within its walls, and the lineage of the Dukes who called it home.
The once-daunting library had become her sanctuary, a place where she could lose herself in the stories of the past and glean the knowledge that would help her navigate this strange new world.
Meanwhile, a buzz of activity filled the castle. News had arrived of Duke's impending return, and the once-sleepy atmosphere gave way to a flurry of preparations. Suzy, determined to fulfill her role as Duchess, took charge.
She held meetings with the head cook, Madame Claire, a woman who ruled the kitchen with an iron fist and a talent for creating culinary masterpieces. They discussed the Duke's favorite dishes, ensuring his return would be met with a feast fit for a king, well, a Duke at least.
Suzy then moved on to oversee the preparations in the grand hall, the room where Ryan would be formally welcomed back. She directed the servants, a bustling army of maids and footmen, as they polished the intricate tapestries, dusted the gleaming furniture, and arranged fresh flowers in ornate vases. The once-stately room was transformed into a picture of elegance, a testament to the wealth and status of the Carleton family.
Even the Duke's private chambers received a thorough inspection. Suzy, with a critical eye, ensured everything was spotless and perfectly arranged. A fresh fire crackled in the hearth, promising warmth and comfort on a chilly spring evening. His clothes, meticulously ironed and hung, awaited his arrival.
As dusk approached, casting long shadows across the castle grounds, a sense of anticipation settled over Suzy. Ryan would be home soon.
She needed to look the part of the Duchess, but also infuse it with a hint of her own style. She dismissed the maids who hovered nearby, a nervous habit they seemed to have developed in her presence. Instead, she called for Clara.
"Clara," Suzy said, her voice betraying a hint of excitement, "can you sew?"
Clara's eyes widened in surprise. "Sew, Your Grace?" she echoed. "Of course I can sew. Most ladies in the castle know at least the basics."
A relieved smile spread across Suzy's face. Perfect, she thought. This might just work.
"Excellent, Clara," she declared, her voice brimming with newfound purpose. "I have a project that requires your expertise."
Leading Clara to the wardrobe, Suzy pulled out a stunning emerald gown. The fabric, a luxurious silk that shimmered like a captured emerald, whispered of elegance and wealth. But the style… well, the style belonged to another era, a bit too formal and old-fashioned for Suzy's tastes.
"This gown," Suzy began, gesturing towards the emerald masterpiece, "it's beautiful, but a little… too much, don't you think?"
Clara's eyes widened in understanding. "A bit too… grand, Your Grace?" she offered cautiously.
Suzy nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! What if we… modernized it a bit? Made it something more… me?"
Clara's lips curved into a knowing smile. She, like Suzy, seemed to appreciate a touch of rebellion against the castle's stuffy traditions. "I think I can help with that, Your Grace," she declared, her voice filled with a hint of mischief. " But will his Grace approve of this?" she asked with a flicker of fear in her eyes.
"Don't worry about that." Suzy assured her.
Together, they huddled over the dress, their heads bent in concentration. Suzy, fueled by a surge of creativity, proposed shortening the hem to a more manageable length, perhaps just above the ankles.
The stiff sleeves were reworked, creating a more modern, off-the-shoulder style.
Clara, with nimble fingers and a sharp mind, expertly transformed Suzy's vision into reality. The scissors danced across the emerald fabric, snipping away the excess, while the needle and thread wove a new design, a modern twist on a classic silhouette.
As the final stitch was sewn, Suzy held the transformed dress up to her light. Her breath hitched in her throat. It was breathtaking.
With Clara's help, Suzy slipped into the dress. It hugged her curves in all the right places, accentuating her slender figure and the hint of cleavage peeked from the bodice added a touch of unexpected allure. Clara, with Suzy's guidance, styled her hair in a half-up, half-down style, letting two playful curls frame her face.
Clara, stepping back to admire her handiwork, beamed with pride. "Your Grace," she declared, her voice filled with awe, "you look… magnificent!"
Suzy couldn't help but agree.
The heavy oak doors creaked open, announcing the arrival of Duke Ryan. He strode into the grand hall, his face an unreadable mask. He glanced at Suzy, his cold eyes taking in her appearance from head to toe. A flicker of something – surprise? Disapproval? – crossed his features before settling back into his usual stoic expression.
"Duchess," he acknowledged with a curt nod, his voice devoid of warmth.
Suzy, despite the iciness in his tone, held her chin high. "Welcome home, Duke Ryan," she replied, a hint of defiance in her voice.
Ryan cast another glance at her, his gaze lingering on the emerald dress. "What is this?" he finally asked, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. He gestured vaguely towards the dress.
Suzy, her heart skipping a beat, took a deep breath. "Just… a slight alteration, Your Grace," she replied, forcing a smile. "I thought it might be… more comfortable."
Ryan didn't respond, his expression unreadable. He simply swept past her, his footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor. Suzy watched him go, a knot of apprehension tightening in her stomach. His reaction, or lack thereof, was unsettling.
The tension followed them into the dinning area, where a sumptuous feast awaited. Suzy felt like a stranger at her own table. The meal was a silent affair, the only sounds the clinking of silverware against porcelain. Ryan, consumed by his own thoughts, barely touched his food, and Suzy, unsure how to navigate this new dynamic, found herself picking at her plate as well.
Finally, the excruciating dinner came to an end. Suzy longed to break the stifling silence, to ask Ryan about bringing Doris here, but the words seemed to stick in her throat. He seemed distant, unapproachable, a wall of icy formality that chilled her to the bone.
Just as she was about to voice out, Ryan rose abruptly from his chair. "Davis," he called out to his aide, his voice harsh, "meet me in my study in ten minutes."
With that, he swept out of the dining hall.
"Clara," Suzy called out, "I need your help. I need to find Duke Ryan's study." She had a feeling the night was far from over. There was a request on her lips, and she wouldn't rest until it was voiced.