Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 317(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
In the last rays of the sun, Baba suddenly looks old. ‘If what you say is true you must prepare for bloodshed. His or your father’s.’
Twenty-six
Tasha Evanoff
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qT6XCvDUUsU
Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?
papa has come back home. It is incredible how quickly the time passed. When I kissed his cheeks and welcomed him back I felt a tremor of fear inside me.
Even now, as I stand outside his study, I am not ready to face him, but I will never be ready. Childishly, I wish I could turn back the clock even one day, but I cannot put off what has to be said. My hands shake as I take a deep breath to steel myself before I rap gently on his door.
‘Who is it?’ he asks.
‘Tasha.’
‘Come in.’
I let my hand drop to the door handle, turn it, and step into the room. My father is at his desk, his head bowed over some papers. He has his reading glasses on. He does not speak, just beckons me forwards with an open palm. I walk towards his desk, fear speeding through my body, and stand in front of him.
His dark, dead eyes peer over the rim of his glasses. ‘Sit.’
‘I prefer to stand, Papa.’ My voice shakes. My father is a very intimidating man and it will be easier to keep my nerve if I am standing. Papa slumps back in his leather chair, removes his glasses, and lays them on the table.
‘What do you want, Tasha?’ His voice is totally expressionless and his face stony. I immediately feel unease. Mama was right. He is ready for me. He has been waiting for me to do this and he knows exactly what I am going to say.
I feel frozen with fear now, but I cannot turn back. I spit out the words I have rehearsed so many times. In the bed, in front of the mirror, in front of Baba.
‘Papa, I’m sorry, but I cannot marry Oliver. I do not love him and I never will. I know that this is what you wanted, but this is my life and I deserve to choose who I marry.’
Papa smiles. It is a sly smile, and suddenly I know I should have listened to Baba. I should have persuaded Noah to run away with me. He would have done it for me, I know he would have. Instead, I have done exactly what Papa wanted, played right into his hands. How brilliantly he has played his game, and how silly I have been. Now he can execute his next move.
‘This is not something I am asking of you, Tasha Evanoff,’ he says gently.
Tears start running down my face. ‘Papa, please don’t ask me to do this. He is not the man you think he is. He has strange needs. He wants to do cruel things to me.’
‘I know about his needs.’ His voice is cold and hard. ‘But he will not trouble you with them. I will make him understand on your wedding night that there are whores for such things. My daughter is to be treated like a Princess or she will be an early widow.’
I stare at him open-mouthed. ‘Is that what you really want for me, Papa?’
The corners of his mouth turn downward. ‘Is it so bad what I want for you? To be respected by society?’ He shakes his head as if he can’t understand me. ‘When you marry Oliver you will become Lady Tasha. You will move into that splendid stately home and be the mistress of it. Your children will be Lords and Ladies. What does it matter if your husband visits a whore or two to satisfy his needs?’
‘Oh, Papa, please. Please. I don’t want to be Lady Tasha and I don’t care if my kids are not Lords and Ladies. I want them to be happy. I want them to have a normal father and mother who love each other and love them too. I just want a small life with a husband I love and children that are happy and healthy.
‘And I am telling you that you will marry Oliver Jarsdale. Do you understand?’ he yells suddenly, slamming his fists onto his desk.
My heart jumps in shock at his reaction.
I bite back the terror. ‘Well, I’m sorry, Papa. I mean no disrespect to you. I love you, but you cannot force me against my will. I’m not a child anymore. I don’t want to marry a man with such taste. It will disgust me to be with him.’
He stares at me and studies me as if I am a different species from him and he must decide what technique would work best on me. He stands and comes around the side of the desk. I resist the urge to flinch when he stops next to me. His body radiates a strong aura of something I find utterly repulsive.