“Does that mean you apologized to your sister?” I ask in surprise. Honestly, Magnus seemed like the type to stubbornly dig his heels in.
“No.”
“Magnus,” I say, hearing my own disappointment.
The doors open, and he lets me walk in first.
I think about it for exactly two seconds before speaking. “I get it, you’re a control freak.”
The look he gives me is mildly admonishing, but with a hint of mocking to it.
“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘if you love something, set it free?’ Yes, it’s trite to the point of being nauseating, but there’s a reason it’s quoted so often. Because it’s true. If she loves you, she’ll still want you in her life even after you give her freedom to operate how she wants to. What you’re doing? It’s a sure way to drive her away forever.”
“Thank you, oh wise one.”
I laugh and shake my head. “You’re right, it’s none of my business.”
“I wasn’t criticizing you, Sloane. You have a point. Besides, it’s time I start treating her like the adult she is. I do have to say, I was impressed that Giorgio Conti came to see me personally to make his case.”
“Really? That was sweet of him. So refreshingly old fashioned. Did he sell you on himself?”
Magnus looks thoughtful for a moment. “I think it was the way he said he loved her. A man willing to confess that so publicly, or at least with an audience, in such a heartfelt way means it’s real.”
I stare at him, wondering when he became such a romantic. I remember Estelle flinging it at him that he had never been in love before. Was that true?
The elevator arrives, and Magnus crooks his arm for me again. I take it with a smile and allow him to lead me out into the lobby of the hotel.
“Is that what your family is like? Old fashioned?”
I turn to find Magnus staring straight ahead, his face a mask of impassiveness. Still, there’s something in his eyes that has my stomach doing flip-flops. That idle question, combined with what he said before that, is almost enough to make me heady with hope. Maybe I’m not the only one who has enjoyed this past week.
“You mean, would a man have to ask my father for permission?” I ask with a laugh. “No, my dad would probably wonder what kind of woman I’ve allowed myself to become. That’s not to say he wouldn’t want me to marry someone he didn’t approve of.”
Why are we even discussing this?
Now that I’m past the swoony stage, I’m too practical to be hopeful that this is an indication of Magnus’s feelings for me.
What are his feelings for me?
More importantly, what exactly are my feelings for him?
“Interesting,” I hear him mutter.
Now, my head is even more filled with questions.
What’s going on here?
Chapter Fifty Magnus
We arrive at Mona’s apartment to pick her up. She doesn’t even have a doorman, so I do the honors of ringing her from the ground floor. I have a key but, out of respect for her, I always call up first.
Above the mailboxes is a picture of Prince Albert II and Princess Charlene. When I first moved in with Mona it was still Prince Rainier III and the lovely Princess Grace. It’s one of the quirky laws of this country that I find amusing; the royal couple hangs in almost every establishment.
When we arrive at her apartment, Mona has the door open before I can even knock. Everything about this is so different from the opulence and luxury of my daily life that it’s almost refreshing. She refused to be driven to the hotel “like a piece of cattle for sale,” so here I am.
She looks so much like my mother that a dagger of pain cuts me every time I see her. Especially now that she’s older and all I can do is imagine the similarities as to what my mother would have looked like. Would she have allowed that gloriously thick, dark hair to have so many streaks of white? Would her laugh lines match those surrounding the green eyes we all inherited from my grandfather? Would that generous mouth still so easily spread into a smile?
Mona is wearing a long-sleeved, red beaded gown on her petite figure. Even in her short heels, she’s almost a foot shorter than me. This is the one time of year she allows herself to dress up, so she makes a point of going all out. The ruby earrings I bought her a few years ago—a “pointless extravagance” that she couldn’t “imagine where she’d wear them”—hang from her ears with pride.
“Magnus,” Mona greets with a smile, accepting the kiss on the cheek that I bend down to give her. She looks past me at Sloane, and her smile broadens. “And this must be our third for the night?”
I answer in English for Sloane’s benefit. “This is my date, Sloane Alexander.”
Mona’s eyes sparkle as she takes her in. She turns to me with a conspiratorial look and says, “She looks so regal.”
When she turns back to Sloane, she switches to English. “It’s very nice to meet you, Sloane.”
“Very nice to meet you as well, Mrs., I mean Madame…um…” Sloane turns to me with a wrinkle in her brow, unsure of how to finish that.
Mona laughs and waves it away. “You may call me Mona. I am not very fancy, as Magnus will tell you.”
Sloane relaxes with a grateful smile. “Very nice to meet you, Mona.”
“Well, let’s go! I want to make sure I get a chance to see the princess!”
I escort both ladies down the hall toward the elevator but switch back to French as I talk to Mona.
“Are Estelle and Giorgio still staying with you?”
“Of course not, Magnus. They are young and easily bored with someone like me. They are staying with friends.” She turns to me with one eyebrow raised in admonition. “Are you planning on apologizing to her?”
I look ahead to stare at the
