The Possessive Lord's Contract Wife

Damien returned Eloise to the estate, and after short goodbyes, he set off to visit an old friend. Not far from the estate, Damien came to a stop at a mansion which always had a gloomy appearance.

Any day now, Damien expected to see crows flying above the mansion.

Damien exited the carriage when it stopped before the steps, and as he did many times before, he entered the mansion without knocking.

"Who- Lord Hawthorne," a servant greeted Damien. "The young master is in his bedchamber."

"Of course he is," Damien replied, predicting his friend was fast asleep.

Damien made his way up to the second floor, which was dimly lit. Drapes covered the windows, keeping light out. If he didn’t know any better, Damien would assume that vampires were real and his friend was one.

Damien came to a stop before a large oak door and knocked. He tried a second time, and when he didn’t get an answer, he pushed the door open.

The bedchamber was darker than the rest of the mansion, which Damien found to be fortunate. He didn’t want to see his friend undressed again.

Instead of walking to the bed to greet his sleeping friend, Damien walked to a window and pushed the drapes to the side to let the sunlight inside the bedchamber.

Groans were heard coming from the bed.

"I knew it had to be you. None of the servants is so bold."

"Are you dressed?" Damien asked, keeping his gaze on the windows.

"Am I? Let me check," said Zayne Bailey, a childhood friend of Damien. "I am. Why are you acting so distant? Don’t you recall the last time you stumbled upon me when I was stark naked like a newborn?"

"A memory I have wiped out of my mind, and I told you that I would shoot you if you mentioned it. I have come to see that you are still living," said Damien.

"Of course I am. I’m finally starting to enjoy this town again," Zayne said as he sat up. "Must you try to blind me?"

"Your mansion reeks of death," Damien said. "If I trip because I cannot see, I am going to strangle you. You wouldn’t like me to strangle you, right?"

"Make me drunk enough and I might. I’m joking," Zayne said, putting his hands up to surrender. "Why am I hearing that you have gotten married? You told me there was a lady you wanted to court, not marry."

Damien sat down on a chair near the window and said, "I only court to marry."

"Yes, but it wasn’t that long ago you spoke of sending gifts to her. Now, I am to believe that you have already married her? You of all men?" Zayne asked, refusing to believe the tales.

"I have been married for a few days now, which means you have not been out of bed to confirm it. I am a married man," Damien said, lifting his hand to display the ring.

"You know I can’t see from that far. Wait! Why was I not invited to your wedding? Who did you have at your side?" Zayne questioned, realising he had been left out.

"My wife and a priest. It was on short notice," Damien answered.

"No, it wasn’t, you bastard. I could have been there faster than you said I do. I have some of the fastest horses in town. I gifted you horses," Zayne reminded Damien.

"You did. I didn’t think of you, but it is fortunate. Your sour mood would have spoiled my wedding. My siblings already-"

"Your siblings were there? You insult me, Damien. What is the point of us being friends for years? When I get married, you might not receive an invitation," Zayne decided.

"You are threatening me with good news. It is time you got out of bed and start the day. You need a bath, and for heaven’s sake, bring some light to your home," Damien said, annoyed by the darkness.

Zayne rolled out of bed, trying his best to avoid the light. "I prefer the darkness. Call upon a maid to pour you a drink while I tidy myself. You know your way around."

"I drank enough for the morning," Damien said, declining the offer.

"You drank without me?!" Zayne exclaimed, yet again offended.

Damien sighed, regretting his decision to visit Zayne. "I am quite close to leaving."

"You must be understanding of my feelings, Damien. Not only have you gotten married without sending me an invitation, but now you are drinking in the morning without me. What has become of you?" Zayne asked, returning from the bathing chamber to stare at Damien. "Are you about to be a father?"

"I am quite close to throwing my shoe at you," Damien warned Zayne.

"It would be quite a funny sight to see you take off your shoe to throw it at me. Would you expect to have it back? Would you walk out of my home with only one shoe on? How would you explain it to your wife?"

Zayne enjoyed teasing Damien until he saw Damien place his hand under his coat. "I’ll have my bath. Can you inform the maids to prepare warm water? I’ve bathed in cold water one too many times, so I am on the edge of falling ill."

Zayne scolded himself after Damien didn’t move. "Right, you’re not my servant. I’ll have my bath elsewhere while you make yourself comfortable. Before I forget, what is your wife’s name again? You didn’t mention it before."

"Eloise Hawthorne. She used to be Eloise Wilkins," Damien answered.

"Eloise? Why is the name so familiar? Don’t tell me. It’ll come to me," Zayne said as he walked to the door. "Wilkins," he repeated.

Damien shook his head as Zayne walked out of the bedchamber without coming up with an answer. He reconsidered pouring himself a drink while he waited for Zayne to get dressed.

Between leaving the bedchamber and going to find a maid, Zayne was bound to get distracted and take longer to return.

Damien stood up, deciding to get a drink and a light snack. He had been to the mansion many times, treating it as one of his second homes.

Damien exited the bedchamber, and already, Zayne had not gone far. "For the love of-"

"I’m going!" Zayne yelled, moving away from the window. "There’s no need to rush me."

Damien palmed his face, trying to calm himself. "I should have stayed with her," he muttered, once more regretting that he had left Eloise for this.