Lady Margaret’s POV
My eyes snapped open to an empty bed, the sheets beside me already cold.
Gone.
That little worm Philip was gone.
I bolted upright, the thin blanket slipping from my naked skin as fury ignited in my chest like wildfire. The room still smelled of s*x and sweat, a cruel reminder of how thoroughly he’d had me…twice…and how I’d let him.
I’d fallen asleep like some satisfied tavern wench instead of the predator I was. Damn these old bones!
“Eliza!” I roared, my voice sharp enough to cut stone.
The door flew open and my maid rushed in, eyes wide with fear. “My lady—”
“Where is he?” I snarled, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. “Where is Philip?”
“I…I don’t know, my lady. I was told that he left urgently, hours ago. Said something about patrol duties and —”
“
