Beyond A Wicked Kiss Read Free Page B

hair from his eyes.
    The men were all gathered at the edge of the water now, precariously balanced on this steepest part of the slope. The women, including the duchess, were standing on the more gentle rise, many of them with their arms outstretched as if they could draw Ria to them by sheer force of their collective will. Evan took them all in in a single glance and wished that he might hand the child off and disappear under the water himself.
    It was not easy to do so because Ria's fingers were now tangled in his wet hair. When he tried to put her from him, she held on with those stubby tentacles until he thought she would take his scalp. He could hear the crowd shouting at him but could make out no single order or accusation above Ria's pitiful wailing.
    Evan tread water using only his legs, keeping both of his arms securely around the child's shuddering frame, and moved closer to the edge where someone might be able to grasp her. He did not expect to be helped out himself, so it was something of a shock when Ria was finally separated from him and he was hauled from the lake. The manner of his rescue was none too gentle. While a squalling, squealing Ria was passed by a succession of cradling arms to her mother, Evan was pulled up abruptly by the scruff of his neck and shaken hard.
    It happened too fast for him to comprehend what they were about. A dull roar thrummed through his head as the first pair of hands that seized him held him still while a second pair delivered a thundering box to his ears. He might have cried out, he thought, but he could not be sure. He hoped he hadn't. It was too lowering.
    He was spun around and pushed forward to face the duke, stumbling when he was released and almost falling to his knees. He managed to steady himself just in time to take the first blow. Westphal's walking stick whistled through the air before it came down on Evan's shoulder. Evan dropped like a stone and rolled to one side. The second strike caught him squarely on the back, raising an immediate welt beneath his wet linen. He made himself a hedgehog, rolling into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest to protect his face from the blows. His back and buttocks were exposed, and the blows rained down upon him.
    They were still shouting at him, but he could not hear what they were saying. Did they think he had pushed the little girl into the water? Didn't they know he had saved her?
    As humiliating as it was, Evan opened his mouth to explain. No one really heard him, of course. He wasn't certain his voice had risen above a whisper, and he was still curled like a hedgehog with his mouth very close to his knees. Pride warred with pain, and pain won. He rose on all fours and tried to crawl off, his only thought now to escape the blows and find some sanctuary where he could lick his wounds.
    He collapsed as the stick caught him between the shoulder blades. He could not draw his knees forward this time but lay sprawled on the bank, his face turned to one side, his eyes closed. A long breath left his body. Pain no longer stung him. It swelled like a wave across his skin, and then it was gone in a rush of heat. He imagined he felt small, stubby fingers tangling in his hair and an oddly familiar weight clinging to him. A cry shrill enough to penetrate the roar in his ears was the last thing he heard. There was no time to wonder if it was his own. He shuddered once and was still.
    Evan was alone when he woke. He had not expected it to be otherwise. There was no reason for any of them to linger over him, especially not Their Graces. It would be their desire to put this unfortunate encounter from their memory. Evan doubted anyone would ever speak of it, most particularly the adults, who would not want to be made disagreeable to the duke or his duchess. Tenley might say something.
    He was impulsive enough to do so, though he might think twice about risking his father's disapproval. The young heir did not need to worry that he would have to