Chapter Twenty Seven

A heavy sigh escaped Suzy's lips as she pushed open the study door. The air inside was thick with the scent of books and something else, something cold and unyielding – the essence of Ryan himself.

He sat behind his desk, engrossed in a pile of parchment. At the sound of the door creaking open, he glanced up, his eyes devoid of any warmth.

"Duchess," he acknowledged curtly, his voice as cold as the winter wind. "Take a seat."

Suzy felt a shiver crawl down her spine despite the warmth of the summer evening. She walked towards a plush armchair by the fireplace and sank down, her back stiff with forced formality.

"I presume you know why I called you here," Ryan said, his voice flat and emotionless.

Suzy bit back a retort. Did he truly believe she was omniscient? Instead, she simply nodded, unsure of what to expect.

"There will be a ball held here next month," Ryan continued, his tone clipped and businesslike. "The Carleton Ball. It's a traditional event, one that has been held at this estate for generations."

Suzy's stomach lurched. A ball? She had never organized anything so grand, so intricate. Panic clawed at her throat.

"As Duchess," Ryan continued, his gaze unwavering, "it is your duty to oversee the event. You will be responsible for sending out invitations, liaising with caterers and decorators, and ensuring the smooth running of the entire evening."

Suzy's voice, when she finally found it, came out barely a whisper. "But… but I've never…"

Ryan cut her off with a sharp gesture. "Irrelevant," he stated coldly. "You are the Duchess now. This is part of your role."

Suzy felt a wave of resentment wash over her. Was he purposely throwing her into the deep end? Did he enjoy watching her flounder? She wasn't an experienced hostess, and he knew it.

Sensing her rising anger, Ryan gestured to a heap of books kept across the desk. "The past Duchesses of Carleton meticulously documented their ball planning," he explained, his voice devoid of warmth. "Review their notes, learn from their experience."

Suzy stared down at the mountain of books Ryan had placed on the desk. It wasn't a single book, not two, not even three. There were ten. Ten hefty, leather-bound volumes, each undoubtedly filled with meticulous details of past Carleton Balls.

Disbelief warred with a rising tide of anger within her. "Ten?" she finally choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "How am I supposed to read all of these in time for the ball?"

Ryan leaned back in his chair, his gaze cold and indifferent. "Time management is a skill every Duchess should possess," he stated coolly.

Suzy's temper flared. "I'm not a machine, Ryan!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in frustration. "These books look like they could rival the castle library in size. It's impossible to read them all in just a short period of time!"

Ryan's face remained impassive. "Then you should start reading," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Suzy clenched her fists, frustration bubbling within her. His coldness stung, his lack of support infuriating. Wasn't she new to this? Shouldn't he offer some guidance, some encouragement? Instead, he treated her like a child who needed to be constantly prodded.

"I… I understand that I need to prepare for the ball," she said, forcing her voice to remain calm. "But surely, there must be a more efficient way to learn what I need to know."

A flicker of amusement, cruel and fleeting, crossed Ryan's face. "Efficiency," he scoffed, "is an interesting choice of words. These books are the legacy of the Carleton Duchesses. Learning from their experiences is the most efficient way to avoid past mistakes."

Suzy bit back a retort. Arguing with him was like trying to reason with a stone wall. He wouldn't budge, and she couldn't afford to lose her temper further.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened her posture and met his gaze head-on.

"Very well, Your Grace," she said, her voice laced with a newfound resolve. "I will start reading… next week."

With that, she turned on her heel, her intention clear – to leave the suffocating atmosphere of the study.

But before she could reach the door handle, it slammed shut with a resounding thud. Suzy spun around, startled, to find Ryan standing there, his imposing figure towering over her. His eyes narrowed, his voice dropping to a low growl.

"Next week?" he echoed, his voice low and dangerous. "The invitations need to be sent out in two weeks. Caterers and decorators need to be confirmed even sooner. Do you think you have the luxury of waiting, Duchess?"

Trapped between the door and Ryan's imposing figure, Suzy's breath caught in her throat. His sudden hostility hung heavy in the air, a dark cloud threatening to engulf her.

Ryan stated, his voice low and menacing. "You have two weeks, no more. Start tonight."

Suzy straightened her back, refusing to be cowed by his intimidation tactics. "Two weeks it is, then," she replied, her voice surprisingly steady. "But I need a suitable environment to concentrate."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features. "What do you mean?" he inquired curtly.

"Here," Suzy said, gesturing around the study with a sweep of her hand, "doesn't exactly inspire focus or creativity. Seeing you, hearing your voice… well, let's just say it doesn't exactly put me in a productive state of mind."

Ryan's jaw clenched tight, his expression a mask of controlled fury. Suzy knew she was pushing her luck, but the truth, harsh as it was, needed to be said. She couldn't spend the next two weeks surrounded by his negativity and expect to be productive.

For a moment, a tense silence filled the room. Ryan's gaze remained fixed on her, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. Then, with a sigh that seemed to hold a lifetime of weariness, he turned away and sank back into his chair.

"Very well," he said, his voice clipped. " Just see to it that the planning is completed on time."

Suzy felt a wave of relief wash over her.

"Thank you, Ryan," she said, her voice laced with a hint of satisfaction.

Turning on her heel, she reached for the handle but paused for a moment.

"Doris!" she called out, her voice echoing down the hallway. "Come quickly. I need some help with these books."

Moments later, Doris hurried into the study, her face etched with concern. Seeing the stack of ten hefty books by the door, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Milady, do you need all of these?" she inquired cautiously.

Suzy offered a wry smile. "Apparently," she said. "Help me carry them to my room, Doris. It seems I have a lot of reading to do."