Page 76 of Royally Wed
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Amelia stared at her reflection in the gilded, full-length mirror in her suite’s dressing room and tried not to cry. “What do you think?”
Willow blinked, then walked away without commenting.
The dog was judging her. It seemed like a ridiculous concept, but Amelia was sure of it.
“This is precisely why I chose to get dressed on my own,” she muttered to the corgi’s retreatingbackside.
She deserved Willow’s disdain. She deserved far worse. After she left the queen’s sitting room, she’d gone back to her suite and tried to come up with a way to stop the wedding without jeopardizing her family’s place on the throne. She’d gone over everything over and over again, but couldn’t come up with a plan. When she realized she couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer, she’dreturned to Asher’s room to tell him good-bye.
But she’d been too late.
He’d already left for the church.
The hairdresser had arrived at the palace only minutesafter Amelia left Asher’s empty room, and once her royal updo was complete, she’d sent the stylist packing. Same with the trio of makeup artists. Three of them. Really? Was she so bad off that she’d needed an entire team of professionalsfrom Bobbi Brown?
Yes. Amelia couldn’t exactly deny it. Her eyes were swollen, and her complexion was a blotchy mess. She suspected she was also nursing a hangover, but she wasn’t sure if the pounding in her temples was due to the alcohol, stress, or her frequent bouts of crying.
After the beauty team left, two stylists from Alexander McQueen showed up. Amelia politely declined their assistance.She could get dressed on her own. Mainly, she didn’t want to have to feign excitement.
She’d be doing enough pretending once she climbed into the glass coach that would take her and her father to Westminster Abbey. Amelia would be required to smile and wave for the duration of the twenty-minute ride from the palace to the church. Her stomach churned just thinking about it.
You can do this.
She could. Pretending to be a blissful bride would be torturous when she could practically still feel Asher moving inside her, but she could. She had to. For her family. For the crown.
But she wouldn’t pretend a second longer than she absolutely had to, so she’d put a stop to the revolving door of people entering her suite and shut herself inside, all alone.
Asher had given up on her. He’d left.
That’s not true. You’re the one who’s giving up.
She inhaled a ragged breath.No more crying.It was almost time to leave for the Abbey. She was nearly ready, but she needed a little help with the seventy-plus tiny buttons that ran up her spine, so she’d called for James.
Ever the professional, he managed to button her up without mentioning Asher’s name.
Amelia was certain James knew what hadtranspired between the two of them, although she was equally sure Asher hadn’t told him about their night together. James and Asher had become friends, though. And James was no idiot. He’d worked in the palace long enough to develop a keen sense of observation. He knew.
When he finished fastening the last button, he met her gaze in the mirror. “You look beautiful, Your Royal Highness.”
“Thankyou,” Amelia said, earnestly avoiding her own reflection.
Her wedding gown reminded her of Asher now. Everything did. She couldn’t shake the memory of his smile, his voice, his touch. Ofhim.He was everywhere, it seemed. He’d kissed her the last time she’d worn this dress. The folds of delicate lace at her waist had been balled in his fists as he’d pressed her against the wall and kissed herand touched her as if she belonged to him. As if he would be the one waiting for her at the altar.
She couldn’t look at the dress without wondering what it would be like if that were true. It hurt so much she could barely breathe.
She squeezed her eyes closed tight.
“Your Royal Highness,” James said softly. “Mr. Reed is a good man. You don’t need to worry about whether or not he’ll speak tothe press. He won’t.”
She nodded. “I know he won’t.”
Asher could be trusted. Amelia was the dishonest one. She was the one who was about to lie to the entire world.
“His bags are packed, and they’ll be taken directly to Heathrow after the ceremony. He won’t be back.” James’s left eyebrow lifted, ever so slightly. “That is, unless...”
