Jareth wasn’t pleased that she had denied him, yet again, and made a face to reflect that displeasure. “Stubborn wench,” he muttered.
“What did you say?”
He fought off a grin. That was the kind of relationship they’d developed as of late, where he could insult her and get away with it. Truth be told, she’d done plenty of insulting herself, and he’d found it the most charming thing about her.
“I said that you would have been more comfortable on… on a bench,” he said, feigning innocence in his dastardly comment. “You know, the bench of the carriage. Sitting on it. A bench.”
Her eyes were narrowed as she looked at him. “A bench?” she asked.
“Aye, a bench.”
She was well aware that wasn’t what he’d said. So was everyone else. She looked at Aidric, at Britt, riding closest to her.
“Is that what you two heard?” she asked. “That I would be more comfortable on a bench?”
Aidric and Britt were part of the game. “I think so,” Aidric said. “But I actually thought he said fence.”
“Fence?”
“Aye.”
“That I would be more comfortable on a fence?”
“I think he said dense,” Britt said. He was usually a man without humor, so his comment was surprising. “He said you were dense.”
“He did, did he?” Desdra said in outrage, her head snapping to Jareth. “Did you say I was dense?”
Jareth found himself scrambling as his entire group of friends snorted at his predicament. “I said no such thing,” he insisted firmly. “Britt has hearing like de Lohr. He cannot hear a damn thing.”
“What’s that?” Stefan said from behind Jareth. “Do I hear my name taken in vain?”
“Oh, do shut up,” Jareth said. “No one is talking to you.”
“Iam taking to him,” Desdra said, slowing her horse so she came in alongside Stefan. “Well? You were closest to him. Did he say that I was dense?”
Stefan shook his head. “He called you a wench.”
The entire group burst into laughter except for Jareth. He rolled his eyes and shook a fist at Stefan, but Desdra was onto him. She had a riding crop in her hand because the palfrey sometimes needed a little encouragement, so she took the crop and slapped the big rump of Jareth’s warhorse. The animal would have bolted had Jareth not been strong enough to hold him back. But the animal was quite excited, and Desdra smacked the crop against her hand, making the sharp and smacking sound again, and the animal began to dance and kick a little.
Jareth had a hell of a time holding it steady.
Everyone thought it was hilarious.
“That is punishment for your slander,” Desdra called after him as he struggled with his horse. “Let that be a lesson to you.”
“A lesson for what?” he said, grunting as he brought the horse under control. “A lesson in the wickedness that strikes awoman when it suits her? A lesson in how truly awful you are? Pray, tell me what lesson I am to learn.”
Desdra fought off a grin. “A lesson that you should always be polite to a woman who is smarter than you are,” she said. “Otherwise, your life will be misery.”
“It is already misery,” he grumbled. “With you, it could be nothing else.”
“What’s that you say?” she said, pretending to cock an ear in his direction. “That you’re not miserable enough? I’ll see what I can do about that.”
Next to Desdra, Stefan laughed in support. He was always in support if it put Jareth in a bad light. But riding at the head of the column, Orion groaned loudly.
“Christ, de Leybourne,” he said. “Kiss the woman already. Stop with all of this foolish flirting and get on with it!”
Jareth was trying to move his horse forward, to get to Orion, but the animal was still skittish. Without hesitation, Desdra spurred her little horse forward, got in behind Orion, and whacked his horse right on its big rump.
