If he wanted the money, he was going to have to compromise.
“Very well,” he said. “But if I am forced to fight any of The Guardians because you were not sufficient enough to draw them away, even with a forged note from the garrison, then I shall take some of your share. I am risking a great deal, you know. You will have your ship to flee in. I will have nothing, since you’ve taken my horse.”
King Dagda stared at him a moment, menacingly, before breaking down into soft laughter. “You may have your horse returned to you for this,” he said. “I should not expect you, of all people, to try to run. The Guardians would catch you and fillet your bones.”
“And it will be your fault if you do not give me my horse.”
King Dagda’s smile faded. “I told you I would,” he said. “But push me too far, little man, and we’ll see who shall fillet your bones. Am I understood?”
Ciaran hated being chastised like a child. He hated it when other men had dominion over him. “I know what I must do, and betraying you is not one of those things,” he said, avoiding agreeing with the man. “How long will it take you to reach the mouth of the river?”
King Dagda shrugged. “We are anchored to the south,” he said. “There is a little inlet near St. Thomas Head, and I pay the man well to hide my ships at the base of the cliffs below his house. It will take me at least a day or two to reach the ships and two or three days to sail to the mouth of the river. I would say that we shall be able to send the missive to The Guardians by the seventh day, so be prepared to move when you see them depart.Ifthey depart. If they are the only protection for The Feast, I cannot imagine that all of them will go. Some may remain behind. You must be prepared for that.”
Ciaran nodded. “I will,” he said. “Have faith that I shall get your money and then some.”
“And if you do not?”
Ciaran looked at him, his dark eyes a maelstrom of malevolence and determination. “My daughter will cooperate or there will be… consequences,” he said. “Desdra will do as she is told. And you shall have your money.”
King Dagda could match Ciaran’s malevolence and then some.
“I’d better.”
Ciaran didn’t doubt it for a moment. The stakes, this time, would be his life… or his daughter’s.
God help Desdra if she resisted him.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A week later
“Iwish youwould have let me bring the carriage for you,” Jareth said. “It would have been much more comfortable.”
A week after his arrival at Aphrodite’s Feast, Jareth was finally heading out to Portbury Castle to inspect his property, but he’d brought along an entourage that included the entire Guard of Six, Hugh, and Desdra. Since the day her father had been chased from The Feast, Jareth and Desdra had been inseparable, but only because circumstances dictated so. They’d gone over account after account. Desdra had indoctrinated Jareth into the world of his mother’s family, something not even Chester had ever done. She knew the details as if they were her own family, and there were times when Jareth saw a flash of longing in her features, as if she wished they were.
It made for an interesting few days.
But something else had made for an interesting few days. Jareth had never been strongly attracted to a woman in his life, mostly because he was very selective about the women he spent his time with. They had to be intelligent and they had to be pleasing to look at, and in London he could find one or the other,but rarely both. Compounding the problem was the fact that he hardly had time to hunt for such a woman if he were so inclined. But here in Bristol, he’d found all of those qualities in Desdra.
After the first couple of days, spending nearly every waking hour with her, he’d started to feel something more than politeness toward her. Days three and four and five crept upon him and he realized that not only had he spent most of his time with her, but he’d also eaten every meal with her. When he awoke in the morning, he was eager to see her, even if it was only to go over more ledgers. It didn’t even matter what they did, only that he did it with her.
It was the strangest thing he’d ever experienced.
He wasn’t the only one who was noticing how much time he spent with her. His friends were noticing, too, and by the expressions on their faces, they approved. Whenever Jareth was with them, he spent half the time denying that he was fond of her or that there was anything going on between them and the other half speaking about the things she’d educated him on. The more he denied his fondness of her, the more they teased him about it, and the angrier he became.
It was a vicious cycle.
Even as he was quite possibly becoming more interested in Desdra, Aidric told him that Orion was becoming quite attached to the widow of the knight who had been killed at the Battle of Lewes. Jareth knew who Anosia was because she had been the very first lady who had told him the story of her association with Aphrodite’s Feast. That elegant woman seemed out of place at what was essentially a brothel. But several days after his arrival, not even Jareth could call it a brothel any longer.
He’d seen the light.
Today, as they made their way to Portbury, the knights were mounted and in full armor while Desdra, astride a sturdy gray palfrey, was only protected by the traveling clothes she wore,dark green in color, woolen and durable. She looked like a queen with her magnificent hair in a braid that was longer than the horse’s tail. It had rained the night before, so the road was muddy and all of the horses were filthy up to their bellies from the slop that had been kicked around, hence the reason for Jareth’s statement.
I wish you would have let me bring the carriage for you.
Desdra wouldn’t hear of it.
“Completely unnecessary, my lord,” she said. “Although I appreciate your kind offer, I would rather ride. It is not often I have the chance to do so like this.”
