The Possessive Lord's Contract Wife

Damien rose from his chair. "It would have been nice of you to speak of this earlier so I could have addressed it. Which man approached you for an investment? He has a business of his own with the woodsmen, and then two others he invests in."

"The one with the wines," Zayne replied, regretting he thought of it only now. "It was foolish to think it would have been a good business considering how many better wines there are. I’ve tasted it, and it isn’t special. There isn’t a rich flavour. It’s almost as though they mixed it in their kitchens, then brought it to be tasted."

He frowned, trying to recall the dull taste.

"Why are you drinking wine offered to you? Haven’t I told you to be careful?"

Damien’s hand twitched as the urge to strike Zayne rose, though he forced it down.

Zayne sat up, bracing himself for an attack. "I am always careful. I was with my uncle and father, so I had to be polite. I have a bottle stored which was a gift, but I had plans to give it away. Do you want it?"

"I do not," Damien said. "Even if his investment failed, he should still have enough money to go on without it. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had dipped into Camille’s wealth."

"Maybe she is fine with it," Zayne countered, certain the couple shared expenses. "After all, married people help each other. For now, I think you should direct your attention to this since we can’t prove how Hayden might have had the carriage tampered with. Where are you going?"

"I have somewhere to be. Either join me and be quiet, or return home," Damien replied, already planning to look further into Hayden’s investments.

Zayne followed silently, knowing he couldn’t return home until the matter was solved. He grabbed his coat just after Damien grabbed his.

The pair ended up by the front door, waiting for Damien’s carriage to come around.

Zayne tilted his head back and sighed, gazing at the sky. "Do you think the women are missing us already, or have we been forgotten while they drink and have fun?"

"I don’t have a magic mirror to spy on them," Damien replied curtly.

Zayne lowered his gaze just as the carriage rolled to a stop. "I am getting a sense that you are irritated, but I don’t have any proof. I see a lot of mud stuck to your carriage from the rain. How unfortunate, since your carriage is always so beautiful and clean."

"I’m getting in first to pick my seat," Zayne declared, stepping ahead with a smirk.

Damien slowed his pace, his attention caught by a young servant scraping away dried mud left from the heavy rain.

Zayne held the door open, puzzled by Damien’s hesitation. "What are you doing? Annoyed that your perfect carriage is ruined?" He followed Damien’s gaze to the boy. "Did he offend you?"

Damien’s stare lingered on the servant as his mind pieced together fragments of memory. "We were wrong all along. There is someone still alive who can offer some news, and then I’m going to kill him."

"What? You must explain," Zayne said, watching as Damien climbed into the carriage. He climbed into the carriage, leaving the door open as the coachman awaited orders. "Where are we going? The coachman is waiting."

Damien explained, "The carriages are all seen by servants before they are sent out and when they return. Whether it is to be cleaned or to fix small matters, someone sees it. Our carriages are made of the finest quality, so they are strong. I had little to approve of the design when I had this one built."

Zayne tried to keep up. "So, someone would have seen if the carriage was not in good order to go out that day, or they would have troubled with it to ensure there would be an accident. Where are the servants from that day?"

"Hopefully, still alive. Most reside on our land," Damien said, turning to the coachman with an address.

"This just might be the last proof you have to show someone was behind their deaths. If this leads us nowhere, we get rid of him because he has turned too greedy," Zayne said.

The carriage door closed, and the coachman moved to his seat.

"I didn’t think of this before," Damien admitted, his gaze fixed on the window.

"To be fair, there were a lot of emotions and relatives to deal with. Then you had to jump into being a parental figure. I wouldn’t have thought of it then or now. I do hope there are some answers," Zayne said, leaning back.

Secretly, he prayed Hayden was innocent and that this was nothing more than a cruel accident. The thought of families turning on each other was a scary one.

The carriage ride was quiet.

As they passed through the Hawthorne lands, tenants paused, their eyes following the carriage with curiosity and unease.

When the carriage stopped before a small home, Damien stepped out. He caught sight of drapes being pulled back and a figure retreating hastily.

The coachman knocked at the door, but no answer came.

"Zayne, go around to the back and make sure no one gets out," Damien said, motioning to the right.

Zayne nodded and moved to secure the home.

"Someone is home," Damien muttered, approaching the door. "Mr Chauncey! Do save us all the trouble and come outside. I would hate to have to break your door."

Silence remained, but then the door creaked open. A middle-aged man stepped out, his face pale.

"Lord Hawthorne," James Chauncey greeted, bowing his head. "How can I help you? I’ve paid all of my dues."

Damien’s gaze was piercing. "I came to speak to you about your prior work with my family. Will you allow me inside, or must we speak here for your neighbours to see?"

James glanced at the crowd gathering. "Outside."

Damien’s lips curled into a cold smile. "How impolite to have your neighbours witness you being killed. You’ve worked for my family for five years and lived on our land for more. Would you not show kindness to offer me some tea? Have I been bad to you, Mr Chauncey?"

James stammered, lowering his head. "N-No. Not at all. My home is not suited for a man of your status. Might I know what has brought on this visit?"

Damien’s hand pressed against the doorframe. "I was thinking about the old servants who worked under my parents. Most remained after their deaths out of loyalty, while you left in quite a hurry. You didn’t wait around to train someone who would take your place. Why not?"

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