Page 38 of Royal Heir (Westerly Billionaire 3)
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.”
She blinked back tears. For Magnus that was practically a declaration of love. “Me too.” She floated, not walked, with him to meet the next group of people.
A short while later, King Tadeas entered the room, and a hush of excitement ran through the crowd. He thanked all in attendance for coming and made special mention of several for exceptional dedication to the cause. When he finished speaking, Magnus brought Rachelle over to him.
Here, before his people, Magnus bowed his head to his king. “Father, it is my pleasure to officially present Miss Rachelle Westerly to you.”
His father smiled with approval, then turned his attention to Rachelle. “It is good to see my son with someone who is teaching him to smile again. You are always welcome in my home, Miss Westerly.”
Rachelle bowed her head, although she wasn’t sure if she should have curtsied. “Thank you, Your Majesty. The honor is mine for being included in a celebration for such a worthy cause. I did not expect to enjoy my visit as much as I have, but Vandorra is an easy country to fall in love with.”
“Easier than my son?” King Tadeas joked in a tone low enough for others not to hear.
Rachelle blushed and said as softly, “He’s growing on me as well.”
The king laughed and nodded with approval again. “Dine with me on Sunday, both of you. Something tells me we have much to talk about.”
“We do, Father. Sunday it is.”
With that, Magnus and Rachelle seemed to be released from official duties. All attention turned to the king. Rachelle searched the room, startled when she didn’t see Delinda. She was probably in the washroom. “Magnus, I’m going to slip out to speak to my grandmother now.”
“I’m here if you need me,” he said.
“I know, thank you.” The wonder of the man she tore herself away from was that he meant it when he said that. Never had she dared to imagine having someone in her life she could lean on, believe in. Love wasn’t supposed to be this good, was it?
And love was what Rachelle could no longer deny feeling for Magnus. Waking up in his arms made each day feel like a miracle on its own. Alisha had told her love changed everything, but she hadn’t believed her until Magnus. With him on her side, she felt like she could handle whatever life threw her way—even a lecture from Delinda.
When she di
dn’t immediately see Delinda, Rachelle made her way down the hallway to peer into the other rooms. She was about to step into one of the rooms when she heard a male voice say, “Prince Magnus is brilliant. You’ll never see Vandorra selling off palaces to the public.”
“But an American? And one that has been mocked on every website, in every newspaper? How desperate for money is he?” a female voice asked.
Rachelle’s chest tightened painfully. She wanted to walk away, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to hear what else they’d say, but part of her had to.
The man said, “Call her whatever you want, that woman is set to inherit billions when her grandmother kicks the bucket. Did you see the way he was fawning all over her? I wouldn’t be surprised if he rushes her to the altar. Hell, when a deal is that sweet, you close it fast.”
“Do you think she’s even his taste?”
“Prince Magnus is a pragmatist. A chinchilla would be his taste if it came with the dowry she has. Royal marriages are always business first, pleasure with lovers after she pops out a few children. Who cares if she’s angry then?”
“Must you be so crude, Joel?”
“Must you be so naïve, Tatiana? I almost feel bad for her. Unless she’s trading her freedom for a title. Some women are into that.”
Sick to her stomach, Rachelle forced herself to walk away then. She didn’t recognize their names, but that made it worse in a way. They were just voices in the night, slapping her in the face with a potentially ugly reality. All her earlier doubts came crashing back. From the first moment she’d seen Magnus walking down the red carpet toward her, she’d known he was out of her league. Except when it came to an inheritance bigger than his country’s GDP. Eric had warned her that once people knew she had money, she would never again be able to trust anyone.
Every relationship would be doubted, he’d said. Rachelle rushed blindly away from prying eyes. She needed air and a moment alone to think. She ran through the kitchen and out a side door.
