The Wild Heir(45)

“So he was the only guy you slept with?”

“Is this another question or are you just curious?”

“Just curious?”

“Then you can keep wondering,” she says, walking past me and plunking her empty glass down on the table. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Wait,” I call after her before she heads down the hall. “You have to ask me another one. It’s the rule.”

She looks utterly dejected as she pauses in the doorway, leaning against it. Then she straightens up and looks at me over her shoulder.

“Do you really think this marriage is ever going to happen?”

Damn. She’s caught me off-guard. I don’t even know if I have an answer for this one.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I guess I haven’t given much thought to what happens when the two weeks are over.” The truth is, sometimes it’s hard for me to concentrate on anything else except the here and now.

And all I see right here, right now, is her.

But she doesn’t object to my answer.

She just nods. “See you in the morning.”





Ten





Ella





I’ve been at Thornfield Hall for five days and I’m starting to lose my mind.

At first I thought it was poetic and romantic. I tried my best to fully immerse myself into the Jane Eyre atmosphere, picking up old books from the bookshelves and trying to read them by the fire until I realized I couldn’t read Norwegian, talking to Jane as if she were Mrs. Fairfax, and wandering the grounds as if they were the moors and I were awaiting Mr. Rochester’s lofty arrival.

Only there is no Mr. Rochester, and if there is he’s a lot more insufferable than the one in the book.

Magnus is everywhere I look, all the time, except when he’s not. He’s either purposely trying to annoy me or he’s gone, and I don’t really have a clue where he goes except he gets into the chauffeured car with Ottar and Einar and they disappear for a few hours. Usually this happens at night, and when Magnus comes back he’s good and drunk.

It pisses me right off. Mainly because I’m the one who is stuck in this place, and with the weather turning cold and spiteful, I feel especially imprisoned. Meanwhile Magnus is able to go out and do what he normally does. Or who he normally does, I would think.

It doesn’t bother me, that part. The fact that when he leaves at night I’m certain he’s going out in Oslo and getting laid. We don’t owe each other anything at all. He’s free to do what he wants, be who he is. Why should I stop any of that? If anything, this might be the last time he has to sow his wild oats, if wedding vows mean anything to him at all.

Except that the longer the days go by, the more I’m bothered by it.

Just a little.

The way he looks at me sometimes…

It does something to my stomach, turns it inside out and in knots.

I know he’s conscious of it. But it doesn’t stop his eyes from burning into mine, even when he doesn’t say anything.

Maybe especially when he doesn’t say anything.

That’s when I feel him the most.

But we do talk, and often it’s that fucking question time.

So far I haven’t instigated any of the sessions—it’s all been him.

And the questions for me have been all over the place.

Question: Have you ever shoplifted?

(No. But my friend did when I was seven and I didn’t stop her.) Question: Have you ever climbed a tree?

(Yes. Weirdo. I was young, and I can’t remember the age but my brothers were there giving me the leg up.) Question: What’s your favorite movie?

(The Princess Bride. I always wanted to be Princess Buttercup instead of Princess Isabella.) Question: Pet peeve?

(People who have false humility.) Question: Bucket list band or artist?

(Elton John, without a doubt.) Question: favorite drink?

(Chai tea latte.) Question: favorite alcoholic drink?

(Red wine—I’m not too picky about the variety.) Question: Have you ever had a threesome?

(What do you think?) And in return I had to volley questions back at him. Some I put little thought into because I just wanted things to be over with, others I was genuinely curious about.

I wanted to know what his worst subject in school was (math), which sister was his favorite (he didn’t hesitate, it was Mari, followed by Britt), what his favorite band was (Deftones), what his worst accident was (breaking his collarbone and arm during an ATV race), what his favorite dessert was (crème br?lée ), what his favorite vacation spot was (Azores), what his favorite thing about Norway was (the people, the history, the land…he wouldn’t shut up), who his first girlfriend was.

Interestingly enough, this question stumped him for a second. It’s not that he couldn’t remember her. It’s that I get the feeling she did a number on him. Her name was Lise and he was rather young, only twelve. He didn’t say anything more than that but it intrigued me that she might have gotten under his skin.

I’ll have a follow-up question for him later.

But today, the clouds have cleared and the sun is beaming down full-strength.

All of us—Jane, Ottar, Einar, the help, and Magnus, have all wandered outside at some point or another to soak up the morning sun and blink bleary-eyed into this clear October day.