So I turned to her and said, “If you’re curious about your cousin, which would be repulsive but…” I hesitated, “to each their own, then yes, I greatly enjoy connubial bliss, frequently and vigorously.”
I knew my mistake at falling to her level when she smiled with sheer pleasure.
Damn, I’d given her exactly what she wanted.
Then she turned her head, her eyes moving as if she was looking for something, she found it and tipped up her chin.
“Champagne,” she muttered, her eyes still aimed elsewhere, I looked where they were aimed and my stomach clutched when I saw Viola nodding her head then moving swiftly toward us with a tray holding two champagne glasses. “We’ll toast your marriage,” Franka suggested.
I did not want to toast my marriage with Franka Drakkar and I did not want to be confronted with Viola, who had not, since that first night, attended our table. What she did, I didn’t know. I didn’t let her go because it wasn’t her fault Frey had enjoyed her. Unlike me (in both worlds), she had to earn a living. But I did have a quiet word with Jocelyn, who had one with the housekeeper, and I saw Viola no more.
Until now.
I tried not to look at her as she approached then I couldn’t tear my eyes away for she was aiming a look of pure venom at me, hatred clear and openly read in her eyes.
That was when I decided, perhaps upon my return, I would have a word myself with the housekeeper to see about Viola moving on to other employment or perhaps being reassigned to do the laundry.
She bobbed a curtsy and held up the tray.
I wanted champagne and that was the only reason I took a glass after Franka took hers and without a backward glance, Viola expertly and swiftly melted into the crowd.
“To marriage,” Franka lifted her glass and, eyes on me over the rim, she took a sip.
I wanted a sip, actually, I wanted to down the whole glass but instead I studied her and didn’t take one.
Then I asked straight out, “Tell me, Franka, are you genuinely pleased your cousin has found someone who makes him happy or are you just having some fun?”
She tipped her head to the side and asked back, “Has my handsome cousin found someone who makes him happy?”
Actually, it hit me right then, he had. And he made no bones about it.
And that someone was me.
And at that thought, that quicksand slurped up another foot.
“Yes,” I whispered. “We’re both very happy,” I told her honestly and slurp! up another foot I went.
Franka didn’t speak. She inspected my face and she did it closely.
Then she whispered back, “Gods, you don’t jest.”
“And why would I jest?” I returned.
She took another sip of champagne. Then she moved slightly closer and I stiffened but held my ground.
Then she spoke, “I am not of that bent, my princess, although I must admit I’ve dabbled and, since I’ve dabbled, and enjoyed it when I did, you must know there are those of that bent who feel quite certain you are too. And, I must say, my curiosity for coming here was to gaze upon your beauty and, perhaps, see about, as you put it, having some fun.”
I stared at her a second before it hit me.
Hells bells, she thought I was a lesbian.
Shit.
“Of course,” she said quietly, her eyes warming, her face showing hunger, “if Frey is dipping into that honey, I know him enough to know he’ll not share so, alas, although you are everything they say you are, I will stand down.”
Seriously, the Drakkars. I had never, in all my travels, met anyone like them. Not even close. No wonder Frey got the hell out of there as soon as he could.
“That would please me,” I told her firmly then stressed, “tremendously. But I will say that it is unfortunate for those who are of that bent, as you put it, that you cast your lures as you do. I don’t wish to be offensive but you must know, it’s inelegant and lacks panache.”