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My Bratty Wife

[WARNING: MATURE CONTENTS AND SLOW BURN] Suzy, a modern-day real estate agent, finds herself inexplicably transported to a ruthless noble family in a bygone era. Thrust into the role of the ostracized Cassandra, Suzy grapples with navigating courtly intrigue and a loveless arranged marriage to a cold, calculating Duke, Ryan. As a mysterious figure surfaces, threatening the kingdom, Suzy uncovers a web of secrets that challenge everything she thought she knew. Can she solve the historical enigma while facing her growing feelings for the stoic Duke in a world determined to keep them apart? Dive into this captivating slow-burn romance woven with historical intrigue and suspenseful mystery. [PS: He fell first, fell harder and fell madder.]

Cameron_Rose_8326 · Geschichte
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47 Chs

Chapter Nine

A sliver of sunlight peeked through the window, rousing Suzy from a sleep that felt both heavy and restorative. Twenty-four hours had passed since the guards released her from the suffocating darkness of the storeroom. Twenty-four hours of much-needed rest.

Suzy pushed herself up in bed, wincing slightly as muscles protested the long sleep. Her gaze fell on Doris, who was curled up in a chair beside the bed, fast asleep. Doris looked exhausted, her usually neat braid coming undone, revealing wisps of hair escaping across her face.

A wave of gratitude washed over Suzy. Doris had stayed by her side, even sacrificing her own comfort, just to make sure she was alright. Suzy knew she wouldn't have made it through the ordeal without her.

She noticed a steaming basin of water and a washcloth laid out on a nearby table. Doris must have prepared it while she slept.

Carefully, Suzy rose from the bed and tiptoed towards the bathing chamber, the thought of the hot water a sweet temptation. She didn't want to disturb Doris's sleep.

The bathing chamber was small but well-appointed, with a large copper tub and a pitcher of fresh water on a nearby table. Suzy started by unlacing the simple nightdress Doris had dressed her in.

The simple act of lifting her arms sent a jolt of pain through her, a reminder of the whip's cruel touch. She moved slowly, carefully peeling off the nightgown, wincing at the way the fabric brushed against her raw skin. The fabric slipped away, leaving her bare skin exposed to the cool morning air.

She reached for the laces of her undergarments next, her movements slow and deliberate. As each piece of clothing fell away, she felt a sense of vulnerability.

Climbing into the tub, Suzy sighed in relief as the warm water enveloped her tired body. She picked up a bar of scented soap and began to lather it up, focusing on scrubbing away the grime of the past day, both physical and emotional.

With each stroke of the soapy cloth, Suzy's mind raced. What was to come of her? Marrying this Duke seemed inevitable. There was no way she could defy Count Edmund, not openly. But she wouldn't give up. She'd find a way to escape, a way to get back to her own world.

Perhaps when the carriage carrying her to Carleton arrived, there would be an opportunity. A crowded market, a moment of distraction – anything could provide the chance she needed. Yes, The journey to Carleton, the Duke's grand estate, would be her only chance. Suzy clung to this sliver of hope.

As she rinsed off the soap, a sense of calm determination settled over her. She would have to be careful, discreet, but she would find an opportunity to escape.

A sigh of contentment escaped Suzy's lips as she stepped out of the warm embrace of the bath. The hot water had miraculously loosened the stiffness in her muscles, leaving her feeling refreshed, almost human again.

Toweling herself dry, she reached for a simple linen dress laid out on a nearby chair. It wasn't the most fashionable garment she'd ever worn, but it was clean and comfortable.

Carefully, she pulled on a simple dress of pale blue cotton. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons at the back, a silent plea for help escaping her lips.

As if on cue, Doris stirred in the chair beside the bed. Her eyes fluttered open, blinking away the remnants of sleep.

"Milady," Doris murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "You're awake."

Suzy offered a grateful smile. "Yes, Doris. Thank you for everything. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Doris rose from the chair, her movements slow and a bit creaky. "It's no trouble at all, Milady. Now, let me help you with that dress."

With gentle movements, Doris secured the buttons at the back of Suzy's dress. She then pulled out a brush from a nearby drawer and began to work on Suzy's tangled hair.

"You're needed at the dining area, Milady," Doris said softly, brushing out the knots with a practiced hand. "Breakfast with the family."

Suzy winced inwardly. The thought of facing Helene, that woman who seemed to take pleasure in tormenting her, filled her with dread.

"Do I have to?" she mumbled, her voice barely a whisper.

Doris paused in her hairstyling, a flicker of concern in her eyes. "I'm afraid so, Milady. It wouldn't be wise to refuse."

Suzy sighed, the fight momentarily draining out of her. She knew Doris was right. Causing a scene wouldn't help her situation. In fact, it might only make things worse.

Resigned to her fate, Suzy straightened her shoulders and offered Doris a small smile. "Alright," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor running through her. "Let's get this breakfast over with."

Doris finished braiding Suzy's hair in a simple, low bun, a style that hid most of the freckles on her face. Perhaps, Suzy thought, it would be enough to appease Helene for the time being.

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Suzy's heart hammered in her chest as she approached the grand dining room.

The sight that greeted her was intimidating to say the least. Count Edmund sat at the head of the polished mahogany table, a half-eaten breakfast plate in front of him. Helene, resplendent in a sapphire-colored gown, sipped her tea with a disdainful expression. And Isabella, perched at the end of the table, looked up with a hint of curiosity in her eyes.

The air in the room hung heavy with tension. Count Edmund and Helene hadn't even bothered to wait for her arrival before starting their meal. It was a clear sign of their lack of regard for her.

Unlike the others, Isabella had waited for Suzy's arrival before touching her food. A flicker of relief washed over Suzy as their eyes met. At least someone seemed genuinely friendly in this hostile environment. With a practiced curtsy, she attempted a greeting.

"Dad," she blurted out, the familiarity of the term slipping out before she could correct it.

The air in the room seemed to crackle with the unintended address. Count Edmund's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something akin to confusion crossing his face.

Sensing her blunder, Suzy flushed crimson. "I mean, Father," she stammered, correcting herself hastily.

Helene, ever the snake, seized the opportunity. "Father, really, Cassandra?" she drawled, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. "Have you forgotten your manners already?"

Suzy gritted her teeth, forcing a smile onto her lips. "Good morning, Countess Helene," she greeted, her voice tight with barely suppressed anger.

Across the table, Isabella piped up in a surprisingly cheerful voice. "Good morning, Cassandra!" she chirped, her smile genuine and unburdened by the tense atmosphere.

Suzy offered Isabella a flicker of a smile in return. Count Edmund cleared his throat, the sound sharp and commanding. "Enough of this," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Take a seat, Cassandra. We have much to discuss."

Suzy nodded mutely, her gaze darting around the room before settling on the empty seat at the far end of the table. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards it, her every step echoing on the polished marble floor.

As she sat down, a wave of nausea washed over her.

Count Edmund took a long sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving Suzy's face. Once he set the goblet down with a decisive clink, he spoke in a voice that brooked no argument.

"Cassandra," he began, "your upcoming marriage to the Duke of Carleton has been finalized. The ceremony will take place in two weeks' time."

Suzy felt a lump form in her throat. Two weeks? It felt like an impossibly short timeframe. But before she could voice any objection, the Count continued.

"There will be much to prepare – gowns, fittings, lessons in etiquette. You will need to familiarize yourself with your new role as Duchess."

Suzy nodded numbly, her mind reeling. There was no mention of her opinion, her desires. This was a decree, not a discussion.

"I understand, Father," she murmured, the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

The rest of the breakfast passed in an agonizing silence. The only sounds were the clinking of silverware and the occasional cough from Count Edmund. Isabella, seated across from Suzy, cast her worried glances, but dared not speak.

Finally, unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere any longer, Isabella broke the silence. "Cassandra," she chirped, her voice small but determined. "How is your head? Does it still hurt after… after… the well incident?"

Suzy looked up, surprised by the question. Isabella, despite being younger, always seemed to walk on eggshells around Helene, careful not to provoke her displeasure. Yet, here she was, defying the unspoken rule of silence.

Suzy offered Isabella a small smile, a gesture of gratitude for her concern. "It's much better now, thank you, Isabella."

Isabella let out a small sigh of relief, a smile blooming on her face like a sunflower reaching for the sun.

As soon as breakfast was over, Count Edmund and Countess Helene rose from the table, their movements orchestrated with practiced efficiency.

"We have matters to attend to," the Count announced, his voice devoid of warmth. He cast a pointed look at Suzy. "See that you are properly prepared for your upcoming nuptials."

With that, the Count and Countess swept out of the room, leaving Suzy and Isabella alone at the long table. The silence that followed their departure was heavy, but this time, it didn't feel oppressive.

Isabella scooted closer to Suzy, her eyes filled with concern. "I'm so sorry about what happened, Cassandra," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur. "I tried to plead with Mama to let you out, but she wouldn't listen."

Suzy reached out and squeezed Isabella's hand gently. "It's alright, Isabella," she assured her, her voice soft. "I know you did your best."

Isabella's eyes welled up with tears. "And Mama wouldn't let me leave my room either," she sniffled. "I felt so horrible, knowing you were stuck down there all alone."

Suzy's heart ached for her younger sister, caught in the crossfire between her parents' cruelty and her own burgeoning sense of right and wrong.

Sensing Suzy's compassion, Isabella wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "But I snuck something out for you," she whispered conspiratorially, reaching into her pocket.

She pulled out a small pouch of embroidered silk, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "The governess mentioned some herbs that are good for healing wounds. I thought you might need them."

Suzy felt a lump form in her throat. Isabella, despite being young and powerless, was defying their mother in her own small way, offering a gesture of kindness that warmed Suzy's heart more than any fancy potion ever could.

"Thank you, Isabella," she said, her voice filled with emotion.

Isabella beamed, her earlier worries forgotten. "I'm happy you are getting married to the Grand Duke of Carleton" she chirped, her voice brimming with a childlike innocence. "I just hope he gives you all the love mama and papa didn't give you."

Suzy smiled, a genuine smile that reached her eyes for the first time since waking up in this strange world.