“Berate him for not notifying us that he was coming,” she said as she took the stairs too fast. “Then I shall invite him in and introduce him to Lord Chester’s grand holding.”
At the base of the stairs was a door, one that could be locked from the inside, and she opened it, spilling out into the grand entry of the building. The entry, in fact, was three stories tall, with the first and second floors having some of the remnants of the Roman pillars from so long ago. The floor was not mosaic in the entry, but rather rough-cut stone that had been smoothed until it created a level floor. There were marble statues that had been brought all the way from Rome, not in the best repair, but a de Long ancestor had paid a craftsman to smooth them down and make them positively glow. Heads were missing, hands were missing, but it didn’t matter.
The statues were magnificent.
As Desdra headed for the entry door, she passed by tapestries with silk tassels and chairs made from wood with gold leaf and expensive velvet cushions. Velvets were nearly unheard of except to royalty, but through their shipping business, Chesterhad managed to get his hands on a stretch of the fabric, which he’d promptly had fashioned into cushions for the impressive entry and a tunic he was buried in.
But Desdra didn’t pay attention to the riches. She was used to seeing them. When she came to the entry, she was greeted by the commander of The Guardians, a man who called himself Zeus.
“I’m told Lord Chester’s nephew has arrived,” she said.
Zeus, with his long, graying hair and broad shoulders, resembled the historical descriptions of his namesake. “Aye,” he said, his gaze moving to the street beyond the door. “I was shown the missive with Lord Chester’s seal on it, and the garrison commander from Bristol Castle also confirmed his identity. It is he.”
Desdra realized that she was disappointed to hear that. “I see,” she said. “I suppose I should get this over with, then.”
With that, she stepped through the doorway, onto the white marble walkway that led from the front door to the street. It was Italian marble, something that Chester had shipped all the way from Rome. As she drew close to the group of men standing on the avenue, looking up at the creation that was Aphrodite’s Feast, she took a moment to look them over. Surprisingly, it was a collection of exceptionally handsome men, all of them, and that included Hugh de Winter, whom she recognized. At least four of the men were quite tall, with blond hair in varying shades, and then there was a big man with auburn hair. Standing over near the corner of the building was Hugh, pointing up at the structure and speaking to the man next to him. When Hugh moved out of the way to comment on the stone in front of the building, Desdra got a good look at the man he’d been speaking to.
He wasn’t as tall as some of the others in the group, but he was still head and shoulders taller than her average height, and powerfully built. His shoulders were quite broad, his armsenormous, and his hands large. He had brown hair that he kept closely cropped except around the crown, which was neatly combed back, and a dark beard that embraced his square jaw. When he turned to look at her, she swore that she saw Chester in the shape of his brown eyes.
The nephew.
Something about the man made her suck in her breath. He was quite perfect looking, in her opinion, and she was surrounded by men on a daily basis. He seemed so clean and neat. Virtue seemed to radiate from him, and she had no idea why she should think that simply by looking at him. When Hugh caught sight of her, he grabbed the man by the arm and began to pull him in her direction.
The introduction between them was something she would remember for the rest of her life.
*
This is Desdra?
Jareth wasn’t exactly sure what he had been expecting, but it wasn’t this. He’d never expected this. The legendary woman who seemed to hold all of the information he was eager for turned out to be a goddess of sorts.
For a moment, he was actually stunned silent.
For starters, she was young and beautiful.Quitebeautiful, if he were to admit it. She had light brown hair that had a tight wave to it, indicative of hair that was probably quite curly on occasion. It was very long, past her buttocks, and the ends of it had been bleached blonde by the sun and elements and age. She’d probably never cut it in her life, so all that fine blonde hair at the end was here from her youth, more than likely. She had it pulled back and secured at the nape of her neck, but she made no move to secure it other than that. Even as he walked towardher, he could see that long hair behind her blowing gently in the breeze.
But the hair wasn’t the only thing that had his attention. She had an oval face with a delicately square jaw, beautifully shaped lips, and an upturned nose. Her eyes were the same color as the dress she wore, a dark blue gown that displayed her lovely neck.
Truly, he was astonished.
“Jareth? Did you hear me?”
It was Hugh. Jareth had been staring at Desdra so intently that he hadn’t really heard what the man had said, but he didn’t want to admit it. He had to think quickly, suspecting that Hugh had said nothing more than her name.
Desdra le Daire.
“I did,” he said stiffly, tearing his gaze away from Desdra. “Thank you for the introduction. Lady Desdra, I am Jareth de Leybourne. Chester was my uncle.”
Desdra curtsied, a practiced gesture. “Welcome to Bristol, my lord,” she said. “And welcome to Aphrodite’s Feast. Please accept my condolences on the passing of your uncle. He was well loved here. We miss him greatly.”
Jareth nodded faintly, unable to tear his gaze away from her this time. She had a sweet voice, soft yet firm, and the tone and timbre perfectly reflected her physical appearance.
“Thank you,” he said. “I have come to speak to you about his estate. I understand that you can tell me everything I need to know.”
Desdra nodded quickly. “Of course, my lord,” she said. “If you and your men will come with me, I will show you everything.”
Jareth didn’t even bother to motion to the others to follow him. He simply followed Desdra as she turned back for the structure. That beautiful hair and the curve of her torso had his attention as she walked in front of him. He wasn’t about to takehis eyes off her and look at the men around him because he might miss something. The way she moved was fluid. As they walked on the marble, he heard footsteps behind him but didn’t turn to see who it was.
He just kept following.
