Page 42 of Royally Wed
Too late.Here I am.
She glanced around, and realized the three of them were standing inside some kind of supply closet. Odd.
“Can I help you with something, Your Royal Highness?” the conductor asked.
“Yes.” She took a deep breath. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed rehearsal today, particularly the cello solo.”
Over Mr. March’s shoulder, she could see Asherscrubbing a hand over his face and sighing. Whatever was going on, it didn’t seem as though she was helping.
“Oh.” The composer’s brows crept up his forehead. “That’s... ah... marvelous. This is the cello soloist right here, actually. Mr. Asher Reed.”
He gestured toward Asher, whose suddenly tense jaw and razor-sharp eyes made him look somewhere between angryand mortified. Possibly both.
“Yes, I remember.” Amelia nodded. If he’d been anyone else, she would’ve offered her hand again. Given his a shake.
She didn’t dare. The air in the room was already thick with unspoken emotion. She was certain Mr. March could tell that she and Asher knew one another. If not, he was as blind as he was deaf.
Amelia smiled at Asher. Her lips twitched, the way they usually did when she realizedshe’d said something indiscreet to the press. “Your playing is exquisite, Mr. Reed. It means a lot to me that you’re here.”
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness. I’m honored to play for you.” He dipped his head, and when he looked up, his gaze softened. Just a little, but enough to make Amelia feel warm all over, like she’d just stepped into the sun after a dreary London winter.
Then she blinked,and in a flash, his expression was neutral again. Amelia thought that maybe it had never changed to begin with.
