I had painted with my own sword, under the distant heel of the Cherbon Devil. But it was your and your motherâs punishment as well, you see, that affected me so much more deeply. Agatha ridiculed, you shunned. I am paying for my barbarity, still. But I know the truth, and so I am at peace.
âWhich is what you need to accept, daughter,â Walter said, at last bringing his shocking tale back to Michaela. âYour own truth. Hold it inside of you and honor what you know is right and fair and good. You are right and fair and good. Angels watch you, watch over youâI do truly believe. You will find your place in this life yet, Michaela. It has only not been revealed.â
She felt none the more enlightened by her fatherâs sad tale of loss and humility. In fact she was more piqued, and something was bothering her to no end. âBut Papa, did not Magnus Cherbon wish to aid in your plight after you had helped him secure his own demesne? Surely he would repay you.â
Walter chuckled. âOh, no. Magnus was more than happy with the station I had been given. Although heâd heard that I had given up the sword, it always turned in his mind that I would one day take up my blade again. In a bigger hold, I could have revolted against him and usurped his place.â
âPapa, truly?â Michaela said skeptically, although it was not like Walter to boast.
âTruly. I could have disposed of Magnus Cherbon within a weekâs time had I the will.â
Michaela was stunned. And a little perturbed that her father had sentenced them all to this poverty and humbling station. Surely God did not wish them to suffer so?
âYou will marry one day, Michaela,â Walter continued. âAnd when you do, you will be removed from this place, into your own life. The life you lived at Tornfield was not yoursâyou were only borrowing it. You will forget what you now feel for Lord Alan.â
âHow I wish I could,â Michaela sighed. Although she would have vowed she hated Alan Tornfield, she missed him desperately already, and hated herself for that. And Elizabethâ¦She felt a burning desire to repay Alan for shattering her dreams and ripping her away from sweet Elizabeth. âI hate him, Papa. He is a cruel liar and he played me false.â
Walter tilted his head as if what his daughter had said interested him. âDid he, though?â
She did not want to meet his probing eyes and was glad when another knock sounded at the door, and Agatha entered, carrying a woven basket.
âOh, Michaela!â Agatha set the basket at the bedside and grasped her daughterâs hands. âYou have come out of your burrow, at last!â
âOnly for a moment, Mother,â Michaela said as Agatha embraced her. âI still have yet to decide what I am to do.â
âOf course, of course. And until you do, you may go through your things from Tornfield. They were sent over this morn by Lady Juliette with a note. Wasnât that thoughtful of her ladyship?â Agatha waved a hand toward the basket on the floor.
Michaela groaned and fell back onto the mattress, yanking the covers over her head once more. She wanted not one piece of anything she had so much as touched at Tornfield. It was bad enough that the now-hated rose-and-green gown lay wadded in the corner of her chamber. Her motherâs voice taunted her from beyond the blanket.
âOh, here are your nightclothes, and a pair of aprons, andâwhatâs this?â Michaela heard the crackle of parchment. âMy goodness, it looks a royal decree, âtis so fancy!â
Michaela peeked out from the covers to find her mother holding a wrinkled piece of parchment. She immediately knew what it was, and memories of that intimate night in Lord Alanâs chamber flooded her so that she thought she would start crying once more. Oh, she hated, hated, hated that man!
âBurn it,â she said, hiding once more. She