The Possessive Lord's Contract Wife

"I will get all the answers you seek right away. Shall I place someone to follow your aunt as well?" Gage asked, believing that Camille remained a threat to Eloise.

"You should," Damien replied, though he knew Camille’s move. " My relatives are coming to town soon. That is when Camille will act the fool, stirring them up. Send word to the gates that my relatives are not allowed to enter."

"As you wish," Gage said, making a mental note.

"I might need to place more guards at my wife’s side. When she goes out, you will join Aiden in guarding her. I will consider who will be the third. Nothing must happen to my wife," Damien said, thinking of spreading the order far across the estate.

The mere thought of Eloise being harmed made his blood run hot.

Damien was certain, as Gage had said, that while Camille would use gatherings to unsettle Jane, she would try to harm Eloise. Camille did not care for her, and that indifference made her dangerous.

It was either to spoil Eloise’s name since she was unfamiliar with the ladies in town and appeared to be an easy target or to isolate her from the family.

"How unfortunate that there is a day when I must go against my aunt," Damien muttered, his gaze drifting to the portrait on the wall.

It was of his parents, their painted eyes watching him with silent judgement.

Damien truly cared for Camille once. She had been the most consistent relative in his life and in his siblings’ lives. Though she could never replace their mother, she had been a proper motherly figure for Jane and even his brothers.

He wished it were different that he did not need to go after Camille, but she had severed that bond twice.

While others might forgive Camille, Damien could not. He knew better than to bring her near Eloise again after she had revealed her true feelings about her.

"Once someone shows their hand, we mustn’t turn a blind eye. I need to think," Damien said, tapping his fingers against the polished wooden table. "How to silence those two without killing them. The dead are always silent."

"But you wouldn’t escape your relatives coming after you. Your sister would not be comfortable, and then there are your cousins. You’ve always cared about them," Gage reminded him.

Damien’s thoughts lingered on his cousins. They were Camille’s one saving grace. He would not wish to take a mother from her children since he had felt that loss himself. Yet Camille was pushing his hand, forcing him into corners he did not wish to enter.

"I will decide as the days go on. I am only reacting to what they do to my family. Camille is spoilt, but my concern is her husband. He always had a look in his eyes," Damien said, his dislike for Hayden growing.

Hayden always looked as though he were searching for more out of his marriage with Camille, as though he believed he could gain greater access to the estate.

"If he speaks of you, I can find out. The men in this town all have a price. Allow me to act quickly to uncover what he might be plotting against you. I’ll send the right men, since he might recognise my face," Gage said, eager to prove his worth.

"Do as you wish. I trust your judgement," Damien allowed.

Damien rose from his chair and walked to the window. He looked out at the estate.

He was in a rush to settle this matter since he and Eloise had begun speaking of children. This feud with Camille could not carry into that Chapter of their lives. Damien would not allow family drama to taint the time when he wished to be alone with his wife and child.

"We all care for Lady Hawthorne," Gage said, offering comfort. "We shall deal with this matter quickly, to bring ease to you and your family."

"Go on and start making your moves now," Damien instructed Gage.

.

Gage bowed his head and retreated to the door. He paused, his hand hovering over the brass doorknob. "If there is trouble-"

"Get rid of anyone who stands in your way," Damien interrupted. "That’s an order."

Gage nodded once, then continued out, leaving Damien alone.

Away from the estate, Zayne stepped out of his carriage. He carried a folded list of names. The men he needed to speak to to settle the debts that weighed upon Iris’s mind.

"Why must it be so hot?" Zayne muttered, wiping his brow as he looked up at the blazing sky.

He longed to return to the cool comfort of his home, but if he did not do this now, Iris would forever worry about the money.

Zayne began walking in the direction he had been told.

Locating the men who had once hounded the family for their money was easier than he had expected.

Zayne walked without a guard since he did not need one. He avoided the gazes of the women strolling past since his heart was already taken and he was unwilling to let any lady misread his expression.

It would take only one glance for a young woman to imagine romance where none existed.

Zayne pressed on, his path leading him to the pub. He scanned the room, searching for the man named Andrew.

Rather than waste time following vague descriptions, Zayne asked a passing man, who pointed him towards a figure hunched over a drink.

Zayne approached Andrew and sat down at his table.

Andrew looked up from his mug, staring at the stranger who had come without invitation. "That was bold of you. Your clothing looks wealthy, but I don’t recall having troubles with any men like you."

"There is no trouble between us. Do you know the Wilkins family?" Zayne asked, getting to the point.

"I know them quite well. The father owes me money, and now the rest of his family has gone missing. I’ve been trying to find his son. You’re not his son," Andrew said, leaning back. "I know what Reece looks like. So, who are you?"

"I’m a friend of the family. How much will it be to settle the debt? And don’t try to add more, because it is not your lucky day. Let’s settle your troubles," Zayne said.

Andrew smiled, his stained teeth showing. He looked forward to the money reaching his hand. "I think you might have just become my favourite fellow. It was quite a bit of money."

"See," Zayne said, his voice dropping as he revealed the gun concealed beneath his coat. "I was hoping to be civil."