Free Taming the Beast by Heather Grothaus Page B

daughter and I have been on our own following the tragic and untimely death of my wife. Tornfield Manor has been lacking in a lady’s touch, and my daughter lacking for the close bond of a mother. I mean to remedy that this very night.”
    At Michaela’s side, Elizabeth was nearly bouncing in her seat.
    â€œIt is customary to gather all together for the announcement of betrothal, and in that I will not disappoint, save that the period of engagement for myself and my new bride will likely be the shortest on record. Friar Cope?” A robed man Michaela was well-familiar with materialized from the shadows of a perimeter wall and made his way to stand near the magnificent Cherbon cake. The audience gasped.
    â€œIndeed.” Alan smiled proudly. “For on this night not only do I announce my intent to wed, I will have it done before you all as my witnesses.” The proclamation sounded strange to Michaela’s ears but she paid it no heed, so consumed with joy and excitement was she.
    Michaela wanted to gain her feet in anticipation of Alan’s announcement, but restrained her anxiousness until his next words. She drew a deep, steadying breath.
    â€œIt is with great pride that I present to you all the next Lady Tornfield, Lady Juliette of Osprey.”
    For a moment, Michaela thought she’d misheard Alan because of the thunderous applause that vibrated the stone walls of the hall. But a croaking sound to her left, a sound that was quiet and strangled and should have been unheard in the din, cut through the roar of approval from the guests as well as the screaming in Michaela’s own head. She turned her head slowly, slowly, as if in a dream, to see Elizabeth duck under the table and run to stand before her father, tears streaming down her pale face.
    â€œPa—” she croaked. “Pa-pa, no! You said the… wrong name . Michaela said…you were to marry her! ”
    The only sounds following the shocking words were the pounding of Michaela’s own heart and the hushed breaths of the guests.
    Then Lady Juliette stood from her seat, and smiled at the girl. “Come now, dear—your father would not marry Miss Fortune. You and I will get along brilliantly.”
    Alan, however had dropped to his knees before his daughter and grasped her shoulders. Michaela looked at his wide, welling eyes as if she were still caught in some lucid dream that was quickly becoming a nightmare.
    â€œElizabeth—you spoke! My darling girl, I—”
    Elizabeth jerked out of his hands. “Say it’s not true, Papa. You love Michaela . Say!”
    Alan swallowed and his eyes flicked over Elizabeth’s shoulder to Michaela, who could not seem to breathe at that moment. “I am marrying Lady Juliette, my love. But Lady Michaela will—”
    â€œNo!” Elizabeth shouted and then turned to Michaela, who could do nothing but stare back helplessly.
    Then the little girl ran from the hall. Michaela wanted to follow her, but could not command her legs to move. Alan was still looking at her. The hall was deathly silent.
    Then the clicking of heels caused both Michaela and Alan to turn. Lady Juliette stood before the table, her brows drawn slightly. “My lord, do you wish to postpone the ceremony?” she asked quietly. “I do not wish for—”
    â€œNo,” Alan interrupted, and rose to stand. With one final, strangely pleading glance at Michaela, he joined Juliette and the friar, while Michaela’s throat tightened, tightened, and the usually ignored metal link beneath her dress seemed to be burning a hole into her flesh.
    And when kind Friar Cope cleared his throat and began to speak, when Alan took Juliette’s hand, his back to Michaela, now sitting alone at the lord’s table, Michaela’s heart shattered into a hundred thousand pieces.

Chapter Five
    Michaela took to her bed for two days, not rising to eat, to wash, and she made little