All that was forgotten, though, each afternoon when he held Rachelle in his arms again.
In a week that felt like he could do nothing right, she was his reason to keep trying. The more he got to know her, the more he could not imagine his life without her in it. Tonight at the orphan reception, he would present her to his father in an official capacity. Magnus had made his choice, and if their week together was anything to go by, Rachelle had made hers as well.
He had little experience with labeling his emotions, but the more time he spent with her, the less he wanted to be away from her. Often while he was sitting in a meeting, his mind would wander to her, and he ached for her. Ached. He hadn’t known something could feel so good and so bad at the same time.
As Magnus drove toward his palace and Rachelle, he decided he’d attempt to put that feeling into words for her. She’d like that.
Or she’ll tell me how I should have said it.
He hoped she never made things easy for him. She was perfect just the way she was.
And since there was very little chance that he would change, he saw a future full of fiery debates and passionate makeups. The images that followed that thought had him speeding back to her. If he played it right, there was time for one more argument before the reception.
Chapter Twenty-Two
That evening Rachelle and Magnus entered his father’s palace through the front gate, met by surprisingly respectful photographers. After she thought about it, she realized she should have expected nothing less. His family made the laws here.
A member of the royal household welcomed them into the palace and briefed them on the location of the guests as well as the order of the planned events. There would be time to mingle with the guests before the arrival of the king. King Tadeas would say a few words, then circulate as well. Dressed in a dark-blue suit, Magnus looked like the businessman she’d grown accustomed to him morphing into each morning, but he held himself differently in this space. He became who he needed to be—someone of sophisticated etiquette and composure.
The reception was not, as Rachelle had originally feared, an act of manipulation. Planning for the event had started months before she and Magnus had even met. This formal cocktail party honored those who had completed building several satellite orphanages in the rural communities of Vandorra. Magnus had explained to her that their ultimate goal was to keep children, unless there was a reason to remove them from the area, as much a part of their original community as possible. Their goal was to build networks of support around the most needy rather than yanking them away from everything they’d known because it was easier. Magnus never took the easy road, and he didn’t look away from those who needed him. One day he would be a hell of a king.
Being on the arm of such a man would have intimidated Rachelle a month ago. She would have wondered why he wasn’t with a more beautiful woman or someone with better social graces. She would have felt like a fraud had he draped her with diamonds, but she’d chosen a modest, long-sleeved, dark-floral dress from a department store and paired it with classic pointed designer pumps. Yes, it was more formal than what she normally wore, but enough of her personal style that she felt comfortable in it.
As they made their way into the reception area, Magnus lowered his head and said, “Your grandmother is likely already inside. If you wish to show her respect, we should start with her.”
Although Rachelle had done her best to avoid Delinda for the last week, not wanting to give her a chance to fill her head with negativity, she nodded. At the end of the day, Delinda was family. “I’d like that.”
Rachelle introduced herself to each of the staff she encountered until she caught Magnus watching her. Only then did she realize the staff looked surprised by her friendly greeting. “Was that wrong?”
He smiled. “No, it was pleasantly right.”
Upon their entry, the volume dropped significantly. No one rushed to greet their prince, but several looked as if they wanted to. Some of the house staff dispersed around the room, and Rachelle guessed they’d instructed the crowd to wait to be approached by Magnus.
As expected, Delinda was not standing alone. She was surrounded by a healthy number of men and women, both young and old. Even in Europe, Delinda’s name opened doors, and the flock around her seemed to understand that well.
Magnus greeted her warmly. “Mrs. Westerly, it is a pleasure to have you join us.”
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness. The pleasure is mine,” Delinda said with all the polished etiquette of a woman who was not new to attending such events. She turned her attention to Rachelle. “Rachelle, you look lovely in that dress.”
Rachelle stepped forward to kiss her grandmother’s cheek. “Thank you.” When she stepped back and took a closer look at her grandmother, she was surprised to see the circles beneath her eyes that makeup had not fully concealed. Her grandmother looked her age that evening, and Rachelle was filled with guilt for having avoided her. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy.”
In place of the cutting sarcasm Rachelle expected, Delinda smiled and gave her hand a pat of support. “And yet you made time to see me each day. No matter how short the visits were, they warmed my heart.”
Her comment confused Rachelle until she realized how many eyes and ears were focused on their conversation. We’re onstage. I can’t forget that. “I always have time for you, Grandmother. Always.”
Magnus greeted each of the people around Delinda. Although he introduced Rachelle by saying, “It is my pleasure to present Miss Rachelle Westerly,” and nothing more, it didn’t seem that more was needed. The mere fact that she was on his arm seemed to be a statement of its own.
After a few minutes, Magnus excused himself from the group and led Rachelle toward another. Once again, he presented her with simplicity, then spoke to each person in the cluster. Although several seemed nervous as he approached, he put them at ease. He had informed conversations, as if he knew a great deal about everyone in attendance, and expressed sincere gratitude to each in turn. Rachelle was impressed with how he left each of them feeling as if their presence that evening mattered more than his.
When they finally had a moment alone, Rachelle motioned for Magnus to bend so she could say something softly in his ear. “Magnus, I’m worried about my grandmother. She doesn’t look well. Will there be a break during the events tonight when I could take her aside and ask her how she’s feeling?”
His gaze flew to Delinda, who was now seated with a circle of people around her. “She does look tired. After my father speaks, he will do just as we did. It would be simple enough to slip away then. Should I accompany you?”
“No, she’ll be more honest without an audience.”
“Yes, I can see that.” He looked her over again. “If you are very concerned, take her aside now.”
As Rachelle watched Delinda holding court, she told herself she was worrying about nothing. Her grandmother was the strongest woman she knew and would probably be healthy as a bull until she was well over a hundred. “It can wait. She seems fine right now.”
“Come, then. There are more people for you to meet.” He took a step toward another group, but Rachelle halted him.
He looked down at her with concern.
She felt a bit silly but wanted to express what she was feeling. “I’m proud to be here with you. You’ve changed the way this American views royalty. Your people are lucky to have you.”
He didn’t bend to kiss her as he might have when they were in his hometown. His smile, though, also shone from his eyes and made her glad she’d told him. “And I am lucky to have you with me. I have attended hundreds of these events, but this is one I shall always remember.”