The Possessive Lord's Contract Wife

Clive stared at Thomas’ body, but his gaze soon shifted as he couldn’t bear to see Thomas lie lifeless.

The loss of his little brother had not struck him yet. He didn’t want to believe that he had been so cruel as to take his brother from this world.

Clive shook his head as guilt filled his body. "It’s for the family," he said, trying to convince himself he was right.

His hands were forced so he could protect his family.

What would a dying man need a home for?

"I’ll take care of her," Clive said, thinking of Eloise.

Eloise would be well if she married Percival and gave him sons. Clive was certain that as long as she gave her husband what he wanted, Percival would spoil her.

Clive thought that doing good would make up for what he did today. Thomas’s only worry was Eloise’s well-being, so Clive would take care of her.

"He was going to die anyway," Clive said, the guilt starting to go away. He had to think about those who were healthy.

Clive tried to peer at where his brother laid on the bed, but he still couldn’t stomach seeing his brother dead.

Clive turned away and clamped his hand over his mouth, but before he knew it, vomit poured into his hands and onto his shirt. The palm of his hand had turned from warm to cold.

Clive hurled, ruining the rug on the floor. He wiped his mouth, but stayed hunched over as it felt like there was more to come.

No matter how he looked at it, killing his brother filled him with guilt. If he could, Clive would take it all back and try to convince Thomas to leave the home to him, but there was no second chance.

’I have to get away,’ Clive thought.

Clive ran out of the bedchamber, leaving Thomas alone. Thomas would spend his first few moments of death alone.

Clive covered his mouth with the back of his hand. He needed to vomit again, but didn’t want to create another mess to be cleaned up.

Clive’s hands shook as it hit him what he had done. He stared at the very hands responsible for taking his brother’s life.

His only brother. His little brother.

The one who used to follow him around when they were younger and leaned on him when their parents passed one after the other.

They were all each other had, but now Thomas was gone.

Clive’s vision blurred as tears formed in his eyes. For a split second, he imagined his hands still wrapped around Thomas’s neck.

Clive could barely stand.

A cold sweat came over him.

’He pushed me to it,’ Clive thought, trying to shift the blame to Thomas, but it didn’t work.

Clive couldn’t remain in the home for much longer. He feared Thomas’s soul would come to haunt him, or he would do something foolish to himself.

Clive walked to the front door and almost stumbled when the bright light from the morning sun hit him. He felt exposed.

Clive took a deep breath and walked out of the home. He tried to remain calm and ignore the growing need to vomit.

"Oh! Mr Wilkins!" A neighbour’s voice sent Clive into a panic. "Clive? Do you not hear me?"

Clive sped up to get to his horse.

"Did you bring Eloise with you? I baked some cookies-"

"M-My niece is not here!" Clive yelled, startling the neighbour.

Clive looked to his right at the nosey woman who always acted as though she was Eloise’s mother. Eloise didn’t need a second mother.

"I was only going to say hello if she was there. Are you alright, Mr Wilkins? You look pale."

Clive touched his face.

Surely, it couldn’t be showing that he felt guilty.

"My brother is dead," the words slipped from Clive’s mouth before he could think. "I have come and found him dead. I am going to make preparations for his burial, so you must give the family some peace."

"Oh dear," Millie, a friend of Eloise’s and Thomas, placed her hand on her chest. "We didn’t want this day to come. Poor Eloise has lost her mother and now her dear father. The flu has gotten the best of them both, but at least she has you at her side."

Clive clutched the reins of his horse.

"You must keep her close and comfort her at this time. She will not be able to bear the loss of her dear father. You will also need others to comfort you since you have lost a brother. I know the pain, and wouldn’t wish it upon anyone."

Clive turned away, trying to drown out all that Millie said. Each word that left Millie’s lips pointed a finger at him, reminding him of what he had done.

The flu claimed Eloise’s mother, but Clive was the one who stole a chance for Eloise to be with her father.

It was all Eloise wanted for the last few days, and he rid her of that chance.

Not only had Clive rid her of this, but he now had to keep it a secret from her and return to her as though it had never happened.

How was he to face the niece who resembled her father?

"Clive, you did not answer whether you are well. I do not think you should ride your horse when you are ill. I can keep watch of the house until you are well. It is the least I can do for you and Eloise," Millie offered.

Clive mounted his horse and answered, "I am fine. I thank you for your concern, but I must leave to make preparations. If there are any visitors, please tell them to write to me. I must get back to my niece."

Clive commanded the horse to leave before Millie’s concerns about Eloise could fill his guilt once more.

’I must remove it,’ Clive thought, wanting to get rid of the body quickly.

A funeral was not a good choice since the bruises on Thomas’s neck might be seen by anyone viewing the body beforehand.

"I will have him burned," Clive decided.

Burning Thomas’s body would hide Clive’s evil deed forever. If Eloise wanted, she could have the ashes.

There would be no evidence for anyone to question how an ill man died, and Eloise could have her father’s body nearby in a vase.

"I must do it tonight," Clive said to himself. He knew a man he could pay off to keep the matter hidden. "It is for the best."

Until the right moment came, Eloise couldn’t know her father had died.