Promised to a Stranger
The contract was read aloud while Freya kept her hands in the waxed thread, and by the last line of it she was married to a man she had met twice. Freya Grimaldi builds harness and saddles the way her father did, one locked stitch at a time, a seam that holds even when a single thread is cut. She agreed to the arrangement with Hugo Fontenot for reasons that made sense on paper and none that warmed a house, and she meant to make an honest life of it anyway. Then she found the lease, the transfers, the small girl in Fargo with Hugo's exact stillness, and she understood that the stranger she married had been keeping a whole life folded out of sight. Her name is Selma. She is three years old.
And Hugo let Freya walk into a marriage without ever saying the child existed. Hugo knows what he is now: a man who managed the truth instead of telling it, and lost the one person who never asked him for anything but that. Money will not fix this and Freya cannot be paid off, so she hands him terms instead, in her own hand, and watches to see whether a man used to buying his way clear can give up every lever he owns and simply stand there with empty hands. To earn a single honest morning back he has to forgive the note, strike the clause, sell the house, resign the seat, and make the trust irrevocable, until nothing is left in the scales and the only thing she could possibly be choosing is him. Some marriages start with love and lose it. This one starts with a signature and has to be sewn, slowly, by hand, into something real.
A full-length, standalone arranged-marriage romance with a hidden child, a heroine who keeps her spine, and a husband who grovels with his hands and his whole ruined pride.
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And Hugo let Freya walk into a marriage without ever saying the child existed. Hugo knows what he is now: a man who managed the truth instead of telling it, and lost the one person who never asked him for anything but that. Money will not fix this and Freya cannot be paid off, so she hands him terms instead, in her own hand, and watches to see whether a man used to buying his way clear can give up every lever he owns and simply stand there with empty hands. To earn a single honest morning back he has to forgive the note, strike the clause, sell the house, resign the seat, and make the trust irrevocable, until nothing is left in the scales and the only thing she could possibly be choosing is him. Some marriages start with love and lose it. This one starts with a signature and has to be sewn, slowly, by hand, into something real.
A full-length, standalone arranged-marriage romance with a hidden child, a heroine who keeps her spine, and a husband who grovels with his hands and his whole ruined pride.
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