“London can do that also,” Jareth said. “Have you ever been to London?”
“Nay,” Desdra said. “I should like to see it someday, though.”
“I will take you,” he said, looking at her with a glimmer in his eye. “I shall take you to every fine place London has to offer. I shall introduce you to the finest people.”
She smiled in return, somewhat bashfully. “Do you have your own house in London?”
He shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “I live at Westminster. But when we marry, I shall buy you any house you like.”
“We are already marrying? I thought we were just courting.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What do you think courting is?” he said. “It is the prelude to the feast—it is still part of the feast, just not the main portion of it.”
She chuckled. “You certainly have a way with words,” she said. “So eloquent.”
“I can speak the goodest of anyone you know.”
That set her off laughing with his made-up word. They had reached the door that led to the garderobe by that time, and she let him go in alone. He handled himself well, as she had expected, and at least hadn’t fallen down the hole that dumped into a small channel that led to the river. They’d had one or twodrunken clients do that. But not Jareth. He made it out of the garderobe alive and Desdra took him on a small walk around the floor, just to stretch his legs, before it was back to bed for him again. Then, and only then, did she notice his fever.
It all happened quite innocently. She had only been holding his arm, which was wrapped in a tunic, all the way to the garderobe and back, but when he went to sit on the bed, she grasped his hands to help him.
His palms were on fire.
That made her touch his face to see if he had a fever and, indeed, he had a raging one going. There was no outward indication that he had a fever because he wasn’t pale or clammy. He looked normal.
But he wasn’t.
“How long have you had this fever?” she demanded, forcing him to lie down.
He went down easily because even the walk to the garderobe had been exhausting. “I think I woke up with it,” he said. “It is not bad. I’ve had these before. It will pass.”
Desdra wasn’t taking any chances. She rushed to the chamber door and sent a servant to fetch Orion, who was undoubtedly with Anosia, somewhere. Those two had become inseparable. Once she sent the servant for Orion, she sent another one for cold water and rags.
“Desdra?” Jareth said from the bed. “Desdra, love, you needn’t go through such trouble. This will pass, I promise. It is just a little fever. That happens when things pierce the body. It is the body’s way of reacting to it.”
“Be quiet,” she said sternly. “Any fever must be taken seriously.”
He grunted, a smile playing on his lips, knowing there would be no discouraging her. When the water and rags came, she forced him to remove his tunic so she could bathe his skin andcool him down, something he was most agreeable to. With her tender touch, he was actually enjoying it quite a bit, and when she came to his neck and head, she was close enough that he could steal a kiss or two from her. He watched her flush bright red when it did it, and he laughed.
It felt good to laugh.
Jareth was quite enjoying the attention as Desdra fussed over him. But Orion arrived and spoiled it all, sending for a physic because he thought the fever was worse than Jareth was letting on. That nearly sent Desdra into a panic, but the physic used by The Feast arrived shortly thereafter and forced Jareth to drink a concoction of willow bark powder and a tea brewed from mold found on bread, something that had been brought back from the crusades to the Levant. It was a medicine that helped heal injuries and fever, but it tasted like death.
That was when Jareth stopped enjoying the fact that people were fussing over him, but worse still, both the physic and Orion decided that it was the wound at Jareth’s back causing the problem and it needed to be cleaned out. It was one of the more painful things Jareth had ever endured, and when it was over, the physic gave him a sleeping potion that put him out within a few minutes of drinking it.A brewed flower,the physic said. Whatever it was, Jareth was snoring in little time.
And with that, his care was over for the moment.
“What do I do now?” Desdra asked softly, pulling a coverlet over Jareth. “Is there anything he needs?”
“Just let him sleep,” the old physic, a tall man named Willow, said as he put things away into his medicament bag. “We’ve done all we can for now. The next few hours should tell if it is going to get worse or better.”
Desdra nodded, standing at Jareth’s bedside with a worried look on her face. “What shall I feed him when he awakens?”
“Anything he wants.”
That seemed to settle it. Orion took one last feel of Jareth’s forehead before escorting the physic down to the entry level, where Heracles and Orpheus were on their regular shift at the entry. Zeus was having his usual sleeping period and men were coming in and out of Aphrodite’s Feast, conducting business with their lady of choice.
It was just another normal day.
