* * *
Relief flowedover Lila when the rolling sounds of the carriage slowed, indicating they were pulling into a coaching inn. She hoped so, anyhow. She rather felt as though every bone in her body had been jostled loose. If this hideously uncomfortable carriage had any springs at all, they’d obviously hardened and lost all flexibility long ago. Furthermore, the bench cushion, if one could call it that, was worn thinner than her coat.
She squashed down the miserable feelings surging up inside of her.
Lila was not one to complain. Long ago, she’d discovered it a useless endeavor. It didn’t really matter, anyhow. A husband and wedding night loomed all too close.
She rolled her shoulders and rubbed the muscles in her neck and then glanced out the window. A two-story inn, built out of brick and mortar, stood visible in the glow of evening twilight.
He ought to be happy, at least. She grimaced to herself. They’d arrived before nightfall. She sniffed and clutched tightly to the leather strap hanging on the sidewall.
Her physical discomfort was not the only reason for her distress. Unable to read, she’d had nothing to do but imagine innumerable scenarios of what her marriage was going to be like, and the cumulated effect of these scenarios had set her nerves decidedly on edge.
Although she’d not allowed herself to cry this morning, or at the ceremony, or even when she’d said goodbye to Arianna, the urge was becoming nearly too much to overcome.
The coach jarred to a halt and if she hadn’t been holding tightly to the strap, she likely would have fallen onto the floor.
Would they share a chamber?
She closed her eyes and prayed for strength.
Sounds of horses and hostlers and all manner of gentlemen swarming about the yard reminded her that she’d gone months without seeing any crowds of people, or anyone at all other than her own family and her father’s servants.
It ought to be exciting. Interesting even, but after the events of her day, all she wanted to do was crawl beneath a heavy counterpane and sleep.
She peered out the window to watch as another coach arrived and waited for one of the footmen to open the door and lower the step for her.
And waited some more.
With a frustrated sigh, she edged herself forward and resigned to open the door for herself. “Dratted good for nothing—!” She didn’t ordinarily grumble, or curse for that matter, but she’d had quite enough of this day.
Rearranging her skirts, she crouched on her haunches, grasped the handle, leaned forward and—
Tumbled into a solid mass of man as the door flew out of her hand.
“Oomph.” Her head crashed into him first, and then the rest of her body followed. As tall and firm and muscular as he was, he easily prevented her from experiencing a most embarrassing and painful landing on the cold, hard ground.
It was the perfect ending to an absolutely miserable journey. She would not cry.
All she could think to do was bury her face where he could not see her.
Which happened to be his chest.
“I didn’t think anyone was coming to assist me.” She spoke into his shirt and coat, which most likely rendered her explanation utterly incoherent.
Talkative man that he was, he merely grunted and lowered her feet to the ground. Her unsteady knees nearly gave out on her, most likely due to the jarring she’d endured throughout the day.
She did not release him immediately. He really was quite sturdy.
As anyone with his size ought to be.
A large hulking brawny stranger. She removed her hand quickly. He would put himself inside of her. Possibly very soon.
It ought to be the other way around, she fumed inside. Women oughtn’t to have to suffer for the mere sake of… every damn thing that men wanted.
Again, she stifled her temper and took in her surroundings.
Ostlers, maids, and various other servants rushed about with horses, buckets, and packages that were presumably awaiting the mail coach.
