Four days had flown by in a blur of turning pages and scribbled notes. Suzy had devoured six of the ten hefty books on the history and traditions of the Carleton Ball, their contents meticulously analyzed and summarized in her own handwriting.
Taking a break from her self-imposed studies, Suzy stretched and rubbed her tired eyes. The sheer volume of information was daunting, but a strange sense of satisfaction fueled her determination. Perhaps it was the challenge, the need to prove herself capable, or maybe a spark of genuine interest in the history and traditions of the Carleton Ball.
Whatever the reason, Suzy found herself immersed in the world of past duchesses and elaborate festivities. A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts.
"Come in," she called out, her voice a little hoarse from disuse.
The door creaked open and Doris entered carrying a tray.
"Milady," Doris announced with a slight bow, her gaze falling upon the open books and scattered parchments. "I believe you requested some snacks?"
Suzy’s stomach rumbled in agreement. "Indeed, Doris," she replied, a smile gracing her lips. "And might I add, the aroma of roasted chicken is simply divine."
Doris chuckled softly. "That, Milady, seems to be a coincidence. The Duke instructed the cook to prepare roasted chicken for dinner tonight."
Suzy’s eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" she exclaimed, a touch of amusement in her voice. "Well, then, tonight’s dinner just became all the more appealing."
Doris lingered for a moment, a hint of curiosity etched on her face. Her gaze fell upon the table beside Suzy, where a series of parchments lay covered in meticulous calculations. Numbers were meticulously arranged in rows and columns, with totals and subtractions neatly written beside them.
"Excuse me, Milady," Doris ventured cautiously. "But... how are you managing those calculations without an abacus?"
Suzy glanced up, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. "An abacus?" she echoed, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
"It’s a counting tool, Milady," Doris explained, gesturing towards the rows and columns of figures. "It would certainly make these calculations easier."
Suzy shook her head. "I know what it is Doris." "Actually," she explained, "my father is an accountant back in my world. He insisted I learn the art of arithmetic, even with the... modern contraptions we use. We call it a calculator."
Doris’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Calculators! Wow! That must be an advanced device, Milady."
Suzy nodded. "Indeed," she confirmed. "While he did use calculators for his daily work, he instilled in me the importance of understanding the underlying mathematical principles. He said that being able to calculate by hand keeps your mind sharp and helps you identify any errors that might slip through the cracks of a machine."
Doris’s expression softened with respect. "To be able to manage these figures without one... it’s truly impressive."
Suzy blushed slightly under Doris’s admiring gaze. "It wasn’t that difficult, honestly," she mumbled, trying to downplay her abilities. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a chicken dinner to mentally prepare for, and then, back to the books I go.I still have four more to tackle."
Doris bowed her head in acknowledgment and left Suzy to her studies.
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A gentle knock on the door startled Suzy from her concentration. The day had flown by in a blur and she had barely noticed the sun dip below the horizon. "Come in," she called out, her voice a little hoarse from tiredness.
The door creaked open, revealing Doris’s familiar face. "Milady," she announced with a slight bow, "dinner is served. The Duke awaits you in the dining hall."
Suzy sighed, the prospect of a formal meal with Ryan far from appealing. "Would it be terribly improper to have my meal brought up here, Doris?" she inquired, a flicker of hope in her voice.
Doris shook her head apologetically. "I’m afraid so, Milady," she replied. "The Duke is already in the dining hall, and it wouldn’t be proper for you to dine alone in your room while he waits for you."
Suzy grimaced. The thought of enduring another strained meal with Ryan, their conversation as sparse as the silverware on the table, filled her with dread.
"Must we?" she asked, a hint of defiance creeping into her voice.
Doris hesitated, caught between protocol and empathy. "Ideally, Milady," she said softly, "you would join the Duke for dinner. It is a chance... to connect, to build a rapport."
Suzy closed her eyes, picturing the stiff formality of the past few dinners, the heavy silence punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery. The thought of "connecting" with Ryan through such an ordeal seemed laughable.
Letting out a defeated sigh, she opened her eyes again. "Very well, Doris," she conceded. "Please excuse the delay. I’ll be down shortly."
Doris smiled, relieved that Suzy had chosen to join the Duke despite her obvious reservations. "I understand, Milady," she said kindly. "Take your time. The food will stay warm."
With a nod of thanks, Suzy watched Doris exit the room. She glanced down at the books and parchments, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. Just a few more minutes, she thought, just enough time to finalize her notes on the guest list. Then, with a deep breath and a steeled resolve, she rose and made her way downstairs.
As expected, Ryan was already seated at the head of the grand dining table, diligently picking at his food. Suzy entered, her presence barely acknowledged by the Duke, who didn’t even bother to look up from his plate.
She took her seat opposite him, the silence pressing down on them like a physical weight. Doris served her dinner, the clinking of the china seeming to echo in the vastness of the room.
Suzy scanned the plate, a roasted chicken taking center stage surrounded by an assortment of tempting vegetables. Her stomach growled in agreement, but a flicker of hesitation crossed her face.
She picked at her food without much enthusiasm, her eyes darting around the room in a futile attempt to avoid Ryan’s stoic gaze. He finished his meal swiftly, a curt nod towards Doris his only farewell.
"Good night, Duchess," he muttered, rising from his chair and heading towards the door. He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting hers fleetingly. "See you in the morning," he added, his voice devoid of warmth.