Chapter Twenty-One #2
That seemed to please Marston immensely. “I should be happy to, young lord,” he said. “May I ask how Lady Desdra is? We heard terrible things had happened.”
The warmth faded from Jareth’s eyes. “What did you hear?”
“That there had been a fight,” Marston said, lowering his voice.
“Some of the fishermen saw The Guardians bring a dead man to the riverbank and put him upon a vessel. One of them said that the man had harmed Lady Desdra and was paying the price. Some say she is near death. That is all anyone really knows. But that is why we came to pay our respects, to show those at The Feast what it means to us. What she means to us.”
Jareth felt as if he could trust the man because of his longstanding relationship with Chester. “Her father tried to kill her,” he said quietly. “She fell from a window in the process and her injuries are severe. We are hoping for the best.”
Marston closed his eyes briefly, sickened by the news. “I am very sorry to hear that,” he said. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Pray,” Jareth said softly. “I think that is all any of us can do.”
Marston understood. As he turned to others standing behind him, people of the community, to relay the request for prayers, Anosia came up behind Jareth.
“My lord,” she said quietly, “Orion says you must come. Quickly.”
A bolt of fear shot through Jareth, as strongly as an archer releasing his bow.
It was quick and jolting. He ran back to The Feast as fast as his legs would carry him, rushing up the stairs to Desdra’s chamber.
By the time he hit the chamber, he could see that Melaina and Limenia were in there as well as Orion.
He could hear Orion speaking as he entered.
“You see?” he was saying. “Jareth is here. He’s right here. He’s not left you, I promise. Jareth?”
Jareth stumbled over to the bed, astonished to realize that Desdra was awake. She was pale, and had evidently been crying, because there were tears on her face. Jareth dropped to his knees beside the bed, taking Desdra’s fingers in his big, strong right hand.
“I am here, love,” he said, kissing her hand. “I’ve been here the entire time. How do you feel?”
Desdra gazed at him. When she blinked, more tears fell. “I thought you had left me,” she sobbed softly. “I awoke and you were gone.”
He leaned forward, sweetly kissing her forehead. “Nay, sweetheart, I have not left you,” he said. “I simply stepped out for a moment. Never were you alone, I swear it.”
She sniffled, letting him wipe the tears from your face. “What happened to me?” she said. “Everything hurts. I cannot move.”
The warm expression faded from Jareth’s face. “You had a fall,” he said simply. “Your left arm is broken. That is why it hurts. Can you move your toes and your legs?”
She did, a little, bringing a huge amount of relief all around. “It hurts,” she said again.
“I know,” Jareth said, kissing her cheek this time. “It will probably hurt for a while, but you are going to heal, I promise. Do you remember how you fell?”
She seemed to be calming now that he was there and she knew what had happened. She blinked at him, still groggy and dazed. “My father came to see me,” she said, then suddenly stiffened. “Where is he? He tried to kill me! I fought him and fought him, but he was too strong!”
Jareth tried to ease her. “You will never have to worry about him again,” he said. “He will never again be any trouble.”
“Is he dead?”
“What makes you ask that?”
“Because I cannot imagine you would let him live after he threatened me.”
Jareth smiled faintly. “You would be correct, madam,” he said, winking at her. “No man threatens the woman I love and lives to tell the tale.”
Desdra stared at him. She was still groggy and her head hurt, but she was far more aware than she had been even moments earlier, so his words had an impact on her. Words she’d never thought she’d hear, ever. It was like a dream.
The woman I love.
She was in awe.
“You… you love me?” she managed to say.
“Of course I love you,” he said, gently stroking her head. “You love me, so, of course, I was compelled to love you in return.”
A slow smile spread across her lips. “How did you guess?”
He laughed softly. “I did not guess, I knew,” he said. “One never guesses when it comes to love. One just knows. And I knew within a few days of knowing you that I loved you. That will never change.”
She sighed faintly. “Nor will my love for you,” she murmured. “Until the ending of the world and beyond, it will never change. But what happens now? Will I live?”
Jareth struggled to keep a positive attitude. “Of course you will,” he said. “You will live and we shall be married. Uncle Chester will have a great legacy in us and our children.”
“Children?” she repeated, closing her eyes because the mere act of speaking jostled her broken ribs. “I never thought I would have children.”
“We will have a dozen.”
Her eyes flew open. “A dozen children?” she said, mildly aghast. “We must discuss this, Jareth. That is a lot of children for a woman to bear.”
He leaned over, his mouth next to her ear. “Given how often I plan to bed you, I would say it is a low number.”
As predicted, her pale face flushed. He laughed, she laughed, and soon they were laughing together, only she couldn’t laugh too much because her ribs hurt so.
He kissed her on the lips once, twice, laying his forehead against hers as he reveled in the reality that she was awake and talking.
She sounded like herself. He knew she wasn’t on her way to a complete recovery yet, but the signs were positive.
He would take what he could get, when he could get it.
For the moment, she was his and he was hers.
All was right in the world.
“You should also know that the entire town turned out to bring you gifts when they heard of your misfortune,” he said. “It seems that many, many people have been touched by Aphrodite’s Feast, and when they heard about your injury, they came to show you their support for a full recovery.”
Her expression washed with surprise. “Me?” she said. “But I have done nothing.”
Eyes twinkling, Jareth turned to Melaina, who still had the basket of kittens. “Untrue,” she said, coming around the side of the bed. “You have helped many people, Desi. Goodwife Aames brought you this because she knows you missed the cat you left behind at Ridlaw. Look at these beauties.”
She set the basket down carefully next to Desdra, lifting a sweet white kitten out of the basket and showing it to Desdra, who was immediately smitten.
She then put the kitten down on Desdra’s chest so the woman could pet it a little, followed by another white kitten and then an orange-striped one.
Desdra was thrilled with the little creatures, and Jareth backed away so Limenia and Anosia could come alongside the bed and admire them.
He stood back, watching, as Desdra’s friends gingerly hugged her, so very glad that she was alive.
So was Jareth.
“Do you remember when you first came to Bristol and I had to talk you into at least inspecting your acquisition before denying it?”
Jareth looked over his right shoulder to see Hugh standing there, smiling at him. A very knowing smile that was quite annoying, but also triumphant in a sense. Triumphant in that Jareth saw the value of a place he’d originally thought to be simply a brothel.
Jareth couldn’t argue with him.
“You were right,” he said, watching one of the white kittens walk on Desdra’s neck and cheek as she giggled. “You were absolutely right. I’m very glad I listened to you.”
Hugh chuckled. “Always listen to your friends, Jareth,” he said. “You are almost always the smartest man in the room, but sometimes, we know better than you do.”
“You certainly did this time,” Jareth agreed. “What I saw today… people bringing tribute to give back to the place that had given them so much… I’ve never seen anything like it. It was truly remarkable.”
Hugh nodded. “That is what I was trying to tell you,” he said. “Aphrodite’s Feast isn’t a brothel. It’s so much more than that. The question now is if you are going to let it continue on with what it does best.”
“And what’s that?”
“Generating money, of course,” Hugh said as if Jareth were an idiot. “The gambling was halted when Lord Chester died. Are you going to resume it?”
Jareth shrugged. “I do not see why not,” he said. “It generates more money to be used for good.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Hugh said, putting a hand on Jareth’s good shoulder. “The community depends on the donations, the alms. Do you want my advice?”
“Probably not, but speak.”
Hugh snorted. “Talk to the Pope,” he said. “That priest who visits here disguised as someone else. He knows this community. I’ve heard rumors that he wants to start a foundling home, so that might be the next good thing this place does for the community.”
Jareth thought on that. “Desdra and I would have to oversee it,” he said. “I’ve heard horror stories about those places and I would not allow that with anything I put my name or money behind.”
“Good man,” Hugh said, giving his shoulder a pat. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Chester was right to leave this to you. He knew it would be in good hands.”
Jareth simply smiled. He thought on his uncle, leaving him an empire that was so much more in reality than it was on paper.
He watched Desdra with her friends, the women of The Feast, women who had come here to seek a way to survive.
But they did more than survive—they thrived.
Jareth was going to make sure they continued to do so.
That inheritance he didn’t want?
He wanted it now.
As Desdra petted her kittens and relished in the care and love of her friends, Jareth realized that it wasn’t simply the money he had inherited, but the wealth of friendship and love that one couldn’t put a price on.
He had so much in life. For the second son of a man who had hardly given him the time of day, it was the first time he realized that he didn’t need his father or any approval, from anyone.
He had everything he needed, right here at Aphrodite’s Feast.
Finally, Jareth de Leybourne had a home.
And he was damn proud of it.