“Don’t feel like talking, wife?” Brant slurred against her silence. “I have never seen you lacking poisonous barbs. Come, where is my Ice Princess?”
“I told you once not to call me that,” she whispered, hurt by the deliberately rude nickname.
“Why not? Is it not the truth? Have you not hardened yourself to me?” Brant laughed humorlessly as he leaned back. His arms loosened only slightly to allow room between their bodies. “Isn’t it true, Ice Princess, that you do not feel?”
“I’m not an Ice Princess. I have feelings, feelings that you should respect. But instead, I find you fornicating in the front hall with a whore. You disrespect me and most of all you disrespect Strathfeld. And you let your men dirty my hall!” Della pushed away from his chest, her heated whisper not appearing to affect him in the slightest. Unable to break his embrace, she knew she only extended as far as she did because he chose to let her, just as he could choose to pull her back. His strength both frightened and excited her.
“You could have fooled me,” Brant snorted. “Methinks you do not feel at all.”
“Stop it!” Della tried to hide the tears that brimmed in her eyes. “You’re being cruel and for naught.”
“But is that not my nature? The nature of my people? We are naught but Viking barbarians. Murderers. Ravishers. Savage pillagers.” Brant suddenly stood, drawing her up with him so she was trapped against his chest. With each word his voice got lower and harder to resist. “What says you wife? Care for a dance?”
“What? You drunken lout! You speak nonsense and then wish to dance? You make no sense.” Della tried again to pull away from him. She’d missed him, but not like this, not being intentionally cruel.
Brant laughed and pulled her toward the dancing couples. They twirled in circles to the fast paced beat of the music. Tilting his head to the musicians, he laughed again. The beat stopped, only to immediately begin once more at a slower tempo. The hall cheered their approval as Brant lifted his arm to Della in the first position of the dance.
“Methinks we didn’t have time for this the eve we were wed. What say you we dance in celebration of that day now?” Brant asked in low, mocking tones.
Della had no choice but to lift her arm to join his at the wrist. Couples linked around them to do the same. Slowly, Brant circled her in one direction, his movements like a stalking beast, before turning to walk around her the opposite way. They touched only by their wrists, but Della felt his fire through her entire length.
The warmth of his hand moved to close over hers in a hard grasp. “This is the first time I have danced with you. As I remember, you were too anxious to get to the marriage bed at our wedding celebration.”
“That isn’t how it happened and you know it. My father was dying.”
“Yea, and methinks all kind thoughts you had for men died with him.” He turned her in the other direction, releasing her only long enough to switch.
“Nay, I like Rab.”
“He is a child. I speak of men.” Brant said. “Ice Princess.”
“Stop.” Tears threatened her eyes at his intentional barbarity.
Brant bowed mockingly toward her in time with the dance steps. “As you wish, lady wife.”
They danced in silence for a moment, joined at not only the wrist, but also the eyes. A silent battle brewed between them.
“Why?” Della asked, thinking of Serilda. She lifted her chin proudly, as if the gesture might help. It didn’t.
“Why not?” He knew instantly to what she referred. “Did you not say I had your blessing to take a mistress?”
“But why her?” Della whispered, disappointed in his choice. It was true that at one time she’d have welcomed him to find another, but now…? Now was different. “Why Serilda?”
“Why, are you keeping Serilda for yourself? Are you upset that I didn’t ask you to join us? Is that what you like lady wife? You wish to have another woman in our bed? Why did you not say so? Leastways, you both could ravish me at the same time.” Brant’s smile widened. “Who should I ask?”
“I-I-ah,” Della stuttered, not knowing how to respond. The idea that one could do the marital act with more than one person at a time confounded her. It wasn’t a prospect she’d thought of before and she found she didn’t like the idea of sharing her husband.
“I had no idea you were so unconventional in your lovemaking tastes. You should have told me. I’m your husband. I’m well experienced and could teach you things you never dreamed possible.” Brant’s expression was serious, but Della thought to detect a teasing light to his eyes.