As You Are by Sarah M. Eden Page B

funny.
    “Shall I take you home?” Corbin asked Alice, knowing he needed to but beginning to seriously question the intelligence of his reinvention.
    She shook her head no rather vehemently. Corbin watched her, puzzled. Alice pulled the brim of Corbin’s hat over his eyes, then pulled it up again. Her eyes widened, her grin enormous. She repeated the gesture, acting surprised each time she lifted the brim and met his eyes.
    “Edmund is worried about you, sweetheart,” Corbin said quietly and continued walking toward the clearing, cursing the pebble that rubbed at the arch of his left foot, though knowing its presence was entirely his own doing.
    Alice obviously knew where he was headed. She began to squirm and fuss. “No, Mister! I is hiding.”
    Afraid she’d slip into the forest again, Corbin held her tighter.
    “Alice!” Edmund’s voice cracked through the air.
    Corbin caught sight of him running toward them. His infernal hat brim slid over his eyes again. He tried to push it back without letting go of Alice.
    This wasn’t happening right. His swagger had turned to a limp. He could hardly see around his hat. He knew he was filthy.
    Alice fought tooth and nail to be let down, but Corbin knew she’d run back into the trees and probably right back to Elf. “No, Alice,” he quietly implored. “You cannot hide in the trees.”
    She pointed to Edmund as he hurried toward them. She twisted harder, pulling at Corbin’s hands.
    “Put her down!” Edmund shouted. Corbin could hear him, but couldn’t spot him. Infernal hat!
    Something was hitting him. Someone , he guessed. Someone with small fists. Edmund? Then Alice started hitting him too, squealing so loudly Corbin couldn’t make out Edmund’s frantic words.
    Corbin tipped his head from one side to the other, trying to get a look at his attackers. From the corner of his eye, he saw Clara.
    That is a very large frying pan , was the last lucid thought he had before everything around him went black.
    * * *
    “Did you kill him?” Edmund asked.
    Clara fervently hoped she had. She reached for the children, determined to pull them away. If Mr. Bentford had sent a ruffian after them, they had to run before he awoke. They had to get as far from him as possible.
    “Mister!” Alice cried out, throwing herself on top of the inert man.
    “Alice,” Clara corrected, “this is not—” But she stopped and looked more closely. His hat had fallen back from his face. “Merciful heavens.” She dropped to her knees on the ground beside him. It was Corbin. She hadn’t even recognized him, hadn’t been able to see his face. He was smudged with dirt, his hair disheveled, his clothing rough and worn. He’d been walking strangely.
    “Mr. Jonquil?” Edmund asked in obvious alarm, sudden emotion in his voice. “He’s dead!” Edmund wailed, tears surging down his face.
    “He is not dead,” Clara answered authoritatively. He wasn’t dead, was he?
    “You broke his face.” Edmund continued his sobbing.
    Corbin was already swelling. Good heavens, I broke his face. She reached out and gently touched the spreading redness. He winced, and Clara breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t dead. Probably not even unconscious. He had likely only had the air knocked out of him.
    “Broke face,” Alice said sadly, scooting up Corbin’s chest and touching his face with her tiny fingers. She leaned over and gingerly kissed his swelling cheek. Alice looked up at Clara and offered a proud smile.
    “Yes, Alice, that will make the hurt better.” She recognized Alice’s imitation of her own cure for all ailments.
    “Mama kiss,” Alice instructed.
    “No, Alice.”
    “You broke his face.” Alice’s tone felt like an accusation.
    Edmund was looking at her in precisely the same way. Why shouldn’t he? She’d single-handedly knocked Edmund’s hero out cold.
    Clara glanced warily down at Corbin, who still hadn’t opened his eyes, though he appeared to be stirring. She wondered why