Following Clara's directions, she finally reached a heavy oak door adorned with the Carleton family crest. This must be it, Ryan's study.
With a deep breath, Suzy pushed open the door, stepping into a dimly lit room lined with towering bookshelves. The scent of old leather and parchment filled the air, creating an atmosphere of studious quiet. She glanced around, hoping to find Ryan, but the room was empty.
Suzy, relieved that Ryan wasn't there yet, decided to wait. She moved towards the desk, her curiosity getting the better of her. A stack of parchment scrolls lay open, revealing meticulously penned names and titles. Some of the names were highlighted, while others were crossed out with a red slash. A shiver ran down Suzy's spine. What were these lists? Who were these people? And why were some marked for exclusion?
Suddenly, a deep, angry voice shattered the silence, making Suzy jump in fright. "Cassandra!" Ryan's voice boomed, laced with icy fury. "What are you doing in my study?"
Suzy whirled around, her heart hammering against her ribs. Ryan stood in the doorway, his face a mask of thunder. He strode into the room, his eyes flashing with a chilling intensity.
"I… I apologize, Your Grace," Suzy stammered, her voice barely a whisper. "I was just… looking for you." Panic clawed at her throat. She shouldn't have been snooping in his private study.
But before she could formulate a proper explanation, Ryan was upon her. He grasped her arms, his grip tight enough to cause her pain, and pinned her against the wall. His face was inches from hers, his cold eyes burning with rage.
"What are you doing in my study?" he demanded, his voice laced with barely contained rage. "Didn't Bradford tell you that no one is allowed in here?"
Suzy, trapped and frightened, felt a wave of defiance surge through her. She would not be intimidated, not anymore. She met his gaze with a newfound fire in her eyes. "I wanted to talk to you, Your Grace," she retorted, her voice surprisingly steady. "I was simply waiting for you. And I have something very important to ask."
For a moment, Ryan looked as if he might strike her then, but his expression softened, and he released her arm. But instead of moving away from her, he leaned forward and placed his lips close to her ear.
"Ask". He said his voice low and dangerous.
As if hypnotized, she did as he commanded. "I... I wanted to ask," she whispered. "Can I bring my handmaiden Doris here? I feel so lonely without company. "
She bit her lip, her chest tightening with fear as she waited for his response. What if he didn't allow it? Would she ever see Doris again?
To her surprise, Ryan nodded. "You may bring your maiden here," he said, sounding strangely distracted.
Suzy gaped at him. He seemed to be making an effort to speak calmly, but there was still a hard edge to his words. She didn't know what had come over him, but she was grateful that he was letting her bring Doris.
He scanned her face, his gaze lingering for a moment on the soft swell of her cleavage revealed by the daring neckline of the emerald dress. Then, his eyes met hers, locking onto them with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.
He took a step back, his chest heaving with barely controlled breaths.
"Don't," he started, his voice hoarse, "don't ever enter my study again without permission. And that… dress," he continued, his gaze dropping to the emerald gown before returning to meet her eyes, "it's… inappropriate for a duchess to wear. Don't wear it again."
Suzy, left breathless and shaken, could only nod mutely. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his mouth. "Very well," he said.
"You may leave now." His cold words sent a tremor of fear down her spine, but she knew better than to show any sign of weakness. Gathering her courage, she turned and walked out of the room.
Ryan watched her go, his mind reeling from her sudden appearance in his study. Why was he aroused just by seeing her cleavage?
Why was she wearing such revealing clothing? Couldn't she keep herself covered up like other women? Then, he pushed all those thoughts aside, turning his attention to more pressing matters.
Moments later, the study door creaked open, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man with a warm smile and eyes that mirrored Ryan's icy blue. "Ryan?" he called out, his voice friendly and familiar.
"Bryon?" Ryan's voice, devoid of its earlier harshness, echoed from within the study. "Come in, brother."
Bryon, with a grin, stepped into the study, closing the door behind him. "Well, it's about time you acknowledged me," he teased, his voice laced with good-natured humor. "I thought I might have to break down the door to get your attention."
Ryan chuckled, a rare sound in the usually stoic Duke. He rose from behind his desk and extended his arms towards his brother. "Apologies, Bryon," he said, his voice sincere. "Lost track of time, buried in paperwork as usual."
Bryon stepped forward, and the two brothers embraced, a silent understanding passing between them. Despite their contrasting personalities – Ryan, the cold and calculating Duke, and Bryon, the charismatic and easygoing younger brother – their bond was undeniable.
"When did you get back?" Ryan asked, pulling back from the hug.
Bryon's smile widened. "The same day you left, actually," he replied. "Just wanted to surprise you. Seems I succeeded."
Ryan chuckled again, a genuine smile gracing his lips for the first time that day. "You always did," he admitted.
Bryon settled into a chair across from his brother's desk.
"So," Bryon began, his voice warm and inviting, "you went ahead with the marriage, then?"
Ryan, his face unreadable, sank back into his chair with a sigh. He rubbed a hand over his face, as if trying to erase the weariness etched onto his features. "There wasn't much of a choice, was there?"
"True," Bryon chuckled. "But tell me, what's she like? Cassandra of yours."
"She's..." Ryan hesitated, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "She's… infuriating."
"Infuriating?" Bryon echoed, his amusement clear. "Do tell."
Ryan sighed, the sound heavy with exasperation. "She questions everything. She alters her clothes, wears these… unconventional gowns, sleeps in an unladylike manner. And her curiosity…" he trailed off, his voice laced with a hint of something that sounded suspiciously like annoyance.
Bryon let out a hearty laugh. "Sounds like she's keeping you on your toes, brother. I like it!"
"Like it?" Ryan scoffed. "She annoys me, Bryon. Even the tiniest things. She asks too many questions, she… she disrupts the order of things."
Bryon, however, seemed to see things differently. "Order can be a bit stifling, wouldn't you agree?" he said with a chuckle. "Perhaps a little chaos is just what this castle needs."
Ryan remained silent for a moment, then let out a frustrated groan. "You know, sometimes I wonder if bringing her here was a mistake."
Bryon's voice, filled with warmth, opposed him. "Look, Ryan," he said, his tone serious now. "From what you've described and what I've seen, Cassandra looks like a strong, independent woman. And maybe, just maybe, that's exactly what you need."
Ryan scoffed again, but the defiance in his voice seemed to lack its usual conviction. "Need? I don't need anyone, Bryon. Least of all a woman who challenges my every move."
"Maybe not," Bryon conceded. "But perhaps she could bring a bit of… light back into your life. You've been so focused on duty, on responsibility, that you've forgotten how to live a little."
"Hmmm". Ryan ponders.
Bryon replied with a chuckle. "Look, I'm not saying you have to fall head over heels for her. But at least be civil. Be nice to her. Who knows, you might even find yourself… enjoying her company."
"Just give her a chance, Ryan," Bryon continued. "That's all I'm asking. Get to know her, not just as your Duchess, but as a person." He paused and continued " I'm doing all this because I like her. She will make a fine sister in law."
Another long silence followed, filled with tension. Ryan spoke again, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance.
"Bryon," he said. "Don't get involved in my love life."
Byron raised his hands in defeat " Fine" he said. " Suit yourself."