Page 61 of Lost in the Dark

She jerked her head back inside the carriage.

Golden Gods preserve me.

Her heart beat a furious pace behind her breast. Gods. Nothing had prepared her for such a house, but she was here, holding a contract with her name under the title of “wife,” and she would have to make her family proud.

She sat as straight as she could on the hard carriage bench and hurriedly combed her hair into order. What has she been thinking, putting her head out the window? She could almost hear her grandmother chuckling and calling her “foolish girl.” Fixing her gaze straight ahead, she swore she’d make a proper first impression.

The carriage slowed, finally rattling to a stop.

Breath caught in her lungs as the door swung open.

“Welcome, Lady,” a deep voice rumbled, and a massive hand appeared in the opening. “Allow me to assist.”

Was this her new husband? Her throat worked, hope and apprehension tangling inside her. Aside from her father and a few elderly men, it had been years since she’d so much as spoken to a man. Longer since she’d been near one her age—all those who could work had left for the city, or to serve the Chastry in building its wall. There’d been no prospects, no parties, no chance for her to become a wife.

Until now.

Make your family proud, Anna.

Your sisters are counting on you.

“I… thank you.” She slowly picked up the rolled parchment binding her to this home, and placed her hand in the one offered. Callused and warm, it was so large her hand appeared as small as a child’s in comparison. Heat rushed over her skin at the simple contact, fingertips sparking as if they’d become embers.

Flushed from his touch, she tripped over her skirts.

“Easy.” The stranger caught her by the waist and lifted her out of the carriage as if she weighed no more than a feather. Her feet touched the ground and she lifted her gaze to her helper—only to find herself staring at a broad chest.

Good Gods.

“My… my thanks, kind sir.” Tipping her head further, she found a pair of beautiful gray eyes within an angular face.

Darkness take her, but he was huge.

Huge and powerful—yet his shoulders sat at an awkward angle, one arm curled into his chest like a broken wing, withered and fragile. His stance spoke of pain, a tense tilt to his form that reminded her of her grandfather in his last days, bent and blinded by pain from a lifetime of running the plow through unforgiving earth. This man before her was young, though. Was he injured? Is that why he’d sought a marriage by proxy?

With hope stirring in her chest, she offered a shy smile.

She’d be more than happy to care for this man, with his enormous hands and gentle touch—she’d help him regain his health, and ensure he never regretted choosing her for a wife.

“Are you…” Her voice failed and she cleared her throat. “You are my husband?”

He smiled a little sadly. “No, Lady. I am not.”

He stepped aside and gestured to the right.

“I am your husband,” a deep voice boomed.

Slowly, her gaze traveled from the kind eyes of her helper to the second man standing before the manor. Somehow, he was even bigger. Standing tall, unbent by injury, with no twisted limbs or hunched back, this man towered over everyone. He was also older. His massive beard, so black it was almost blue, was threaded with silver. It framed a wide mouth with a heavy bottom lip.

“He-hello, my lord.” She dropped into a curtsy.

“Welcome.” His mouth split into a wide grin. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Something sharp and hungry in his eyes made her want to move closer to her helper, but she had to be made of sterner stuff. Still, her gaze dropped. Her view slid down a doublet of fine, dark blue leather and patterned by polished silver studs, until she found herself staring at an enormous codpiece of the same material.

Blue and studded, it jutted from his crotch and curved toward the darkening sky, a bulbous head at the tip.

She blinked.

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