The Possessive Lord's Contract Wife

Peter came to a halt when a gun was pointed at his face. It was an unfair weapon to bring to their little dispute. "Guns are for the capital. We fight fairly here," he said, trying to persuade Damien to lower it.

Damien kept the gun aimed at Peter, where he could place the bullet between Peter’s eyes without much effort. "I view the capital and the countryside the same. Now tell me, what was it you were saying about my wife? About her father? I want to hear it from you."

Laura moved to Peter’s side and pressed his right hand down so he was no longer pointing the stick at Damien.

"Neither Lord Hawthorne nor Eloise wants to fight, Peter. We should apologise and walk away from this," Laura said, her voice low. "There is still a chance for us to move on and go back to how things were."

Laura knew well that this wouldn’t end in Peter’s favour. He was bringing a stick to a fight where a gun was already drawn, and there was no mistaking that Damien would not hesitate to use it.

"You spoke of her father. You know how much she loved him. You were the one she told those stories to. Let us walk away," Laura pleaded, her voice close to breaking. "Think of me. Think of how you are making me look right now."

Eloise would leave and never hear another word of this, but Laura would remain here in the countryside. There would always be whispers about what Peter did tonight if he didn’t walk away now.

"If you married me because I was the one you truly wanted, and you love me still, then walk," Laura said, her eyes fixed on her husband.

Peter’s eyes didn’t go to Laura. Not once. They were locked on Damien’s gun, watching for the moment Damien might pull the trigger.

His gaze slipped once to Eloise standing behind Damien. None of this would have happened if only Eloise had been honest about what she wanted.

"I spoke the truth about your wife. Everyone had us placed to wed when we were younger-"

"You’re not young any more," Damien said, shattering the dream Peter still held onto. "You’re grown, and she’s married. It is well past time you moved on."

"I know why you’re like this, Lord Hawthorne. You’ve fallen for the innocent face she puts on. Acting as though she doesn’t know what she is doing. I was in your position once, treating her like a sister," Peter said, his voice still carrying the bitterness of someone who felt wronged.

Damien shook his head, disgusted by men like Peter. "I have never once been so consumed with anger over a woman I considered a sister marrying someone other than me. Did you care for her only to make her feel obliged to you?"

"Peter," Laura whispered, her hand closing around his arm. "Enough. Enough of this."

"I am a married man, but your wife came to-" Peter stopped short, threw his hands over his head, and dropped to the ground as Damien lowered the gun and fired.

Laura backed away from Peter’s side to avoid being struck. She pressed both hands to her chest, certain for a moment that he had been hit.

Peter was equally certain he had been shot, but no pain came. He moved his hands slowly from the sides of his head and looked up to find a small, dark mark in the earth where the bullet had landed. It was close enough to make the point.

Peter looked up just in time to find Damien already closing the distance between them. The muzzle of the gun pressed cold and hard against his forehead.

The strong smell of gunpowder hung in the air. Peter could quite literally smell how close he was to death. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Peter trembled, the full weight of his choices settling heavily on his shoulders. It was never meant to go this far.

All Peter had wanted was to show that Eloise had turned down good prospects to marry Damien for nothing more than his wealth.

"Let us understand each other," Damien said, taking control. "I don’t need you to tell me anything about my wife. I know all that I should know, and whatever she chooses to keep private will not be shared by you."

"Unless you want your blood decorating the grass, you will tell the truth about what you have done," Damien said, making the terms clear.

While it was warming to know that people who cared for Eloise were already hunting down Peter’s lies, Damien had more efficient methods for removing them.

Peter dropped his gaze, but the press of the gun against his forehead was a silent command to keep his eyes on Damien.

Peter obeyed and looked up. "I lied about Eloise."

"Louder. The crowd can’t hear you," said Damien.

Peter swallowed hard. He had spoken about Eloise freely and confidently to anyone willing to listen.

To take it back now would make him look like a fool, but the gun and the man holding it made it very difficult to stand by what he had said.

"I lied about Eloise," Peter said loudly, choosing to live for another day.

He could always tell others that he only said it because he was afraid.

"What did you lie about?" Damien pressed, and Peter’s jaw tightened.

"I lied about her being pregnant by another man, and about her trying to be with me while we are both married. I apologise for saying she lied about her father’s death," Peter said, his voice carrying across the watching crowd.

The onlookers murmured amongst themselves as they reconsidered what they had been told. Some still believed it, while others turned their eyes on Peter, shaming him for his lies.

Eloise stood quietly and counted the lies.

Peter was a man who had been welcomed into her father’s home. He had been considered a dear friend, and at times, something close to a brother. He had been part of the family Eloise treasured most in the countryside, but all of it had been shattered by nothing more than jealousy.

Even with Damien forcing the confession, Eloise knew that many would still choose to believe what suited them. Her thoughts drifted to Clive and the question of his punishment.

Like Damien was doing now, if Clive were faced with real danger, would he confess what he had done to her father? Or was it better to be rid of Clive entirely rather than waiting for a court that might never take her word seriously?

The only evidence would come from Clive’s own mouth.

’Violence must be met with violence,’ Eloise thought, and the way she had always approached the matter shifted.

Peter flinched at a sound from the gun and was certain Damien had fired again. He squeezed his eyes shut, but when the pain didn’t come, he opened them slowly.

Damien had already lowered the weapon, and something else had caught his attention. "You’ve wet yourself."