The Water's Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page B

with that, Evan realized they were talking about his father.
    To Landsdown’s credit, he’d not said any malicious or negative words against Evan’s father. The incident left a sour taste in his mouth, though, but also a valuable piece of information he collected, like pennies in a cup.
    When Landsdown ended the possibility of engagement to Claire, his father had said plenty bad about the earl, so in Evan’s mind, they were a bit even. And when Evan had suggested he appeal directly, his father had shot him down, hard.
    “Not worth the bother!” Sebastian Michaelson had thrust his hands into his hair and shoved back so hard Evan was certain the scalp would begin to bleed. “I have tried, and tried, and the...the cur will not speak with me!”
    “Father!”
    “Oh, stop. You’ve heard the words before. You’ve been to war, for God’s sake.”
    “I went to war for my sake, not God’s.”
    “Well, right now Landsdown thinks he is God. Or, at any rate, a Queenmaker. He truly believes he will have three daughters as queens and grandsons as kings! Mad!” Sebastian had smacked the heel of his hand against the edge of his thick oak desk.
    “Let me talk with him,” Evan had pleaded. Why had he asked permission? He should have just gone. The spell Father had over him sometimes made him question his own judgment. Leading men in battle had been no problem. Making instant decisions that led to lives being sacrificed had not made him falter.
    Here? Now? He felt like a ten year old.
    Extinguishing that feeling was critical as the seconds passed and his father pondered. A slow dawning peeled back Evan’s hesitation. Being at war hadn’t made him a man. This moment, though, would.
    “No! I still manage some of his money. Losing his daughter is a sad, infuriating turn of events. Losing his money – that would put me into mourning.”
    Had Evan actually opened his mouth and responded instantly, profanity worse than any sailor’s would have spewed out of his mouth like vomit. Instead, he waited, watching the clock over Father’s head as it ticked off fifteen seconds.
    Finally, he spoke. “I will speak with Landsdown, Father. Just because you failed does not mean that the same fate holds true for me.”
    As he left and heard his father’s angry mutterings, he was grateful for his own paper-thin restraint.
    On the ride to the Hanscombe estate, though, the horse heard what was meant for his father, seeming to take the insults personally as he sputtered and walked along slowly, maliciously obeying his master – but on his own terms.

    “Bavaria? What is Bavaria? It sounds like a disease a cow might contract,” Claire declared, crinkling her nose in disgust.
    “It is a kingdom,” her father puffed. “While quite new, and just established a few years ago, the king has a son who shall rise to be king himself one day. And you, my dear, would make a perfect Queen of Bavaria.”
    “I should sooner be Queen of the Fairies, father, and eat their droppings on my morning toast.”
    “Claire!” he shouted.
    She had let her mouth get the better of her and bowed her head in deference. “I apologize, Papa.”
    His lips pressed together in anger, he nodded curtly. A cold dread seeped into her bones; this was real. Papa had sent inquiries. Bavaria? Was that even in Europe?
    As if reading her mind, Papa said, “It is south of Prussia. A perfectly fine state. Maxmillian I is the current king and his son, Ludwig, seeks a wife. You might find him to be a good match,” he sniffed, as if she had said otherwise.
    Truth be told, she didn’t care if Ludwig was seven feet tall and made of gold. She wanted Evan, sweet, tempting Evan, and being married off to some new prince wasn’t going to get her closer to her true love.
    “When will you hear more, Papa?” she asked, keeping her head bowed.
    Dismissive wave. “Weeks, my dear. I will keep you informed.” His clipped tone told her to leave; she slipped out of the library and fairly ran