Page 75 of Royally Wed
“Holden has it, darling.” The queen glanced at the opened diary on her desk. “The hairdressers are due to arrive in five minutes. Go along now. You don’t want to keep them waiting.”
Amelia couldn’t move.She couldn’t speak. The world was crashing down around her feet.
Her mother frowned at her. “Amelia, what’s gotten intoyou this morning? You’re not still upset about the watch, are you? I thought you would have calmed down by now. I spoke to Holden personally, and he assured me that it was a simple token of friendship. There’s nothing at all to worry about.”
Nothing at all to worry about.
Except that yesterday Holden and Lady Wentworth had been busy shagging in the bathroom at Westminster Abbey.
But she couldn’t say that, could she? She had no proof. Not one shred of evidence. It would be her word against Holden’s. The Beckett diaries against the crown.
She was right back to square one, just like a month ago when she’d gotten engaged.
“Mum, I...” She swallowed.I want to calloff the wedding.“I’m just not sure he’s telling the truth.”
“It’s a little late to worry about that now, don’t you think? Darling, the archbishop is waiting. A billion people all over the world are sitting in front of the telly waiting for you to walk down the aisle. You’re getting married.”
Today.
She was getting marriedtoday.
ASHER HAD STOPPED GLANCINGat the clock.
Every time he did,he felt as if it shaved years off his life. And there was something wrong with the way the timepieces in the palace worked... the hands on the clocks were all moving at warp speed today. Too fucking fast.
Where was she?
Was she withhim?
He hated himself for contemplating that question. Holden was no threat to what Amelia and Asher shared. She didn’t love him. She never had. When she’d learnedabout his affair, her first reaction had been relief. Not hurt, not devastation. Just the sweet assurance that she hadn’t been imagining things after all.
It matters because she could still marry him.
She wouldn’t, though. Right?
Asher wouldn’t let her. He’d storm the Abbey if necessary. He’d confront her lying, cheating fiancé himself if he had to.
Except it wasn’t his choice to make. Itwas Amelia’s. He’d made love to her. Once. That didn’t make them engaged. It didn’t even make them lovers. Maybe the only thing it meant was that his chest would feel like it had a gaping hole in it while he watched Holden Beckett put a ring on Amelia’s finger.
The doorknob to the Blue Room twisted, and Asher died a thousand deaths in the time it took the door to open and reveal James on theother side of the threshold. He didn’t even try to mask his disappointment. He stayed seated at the foot of the unmade bed and dropped his head into his hands.
James cleared his throat. “Mr. Reed, would you like some help getting dressed for the ceremony?”
Asher looked up. “Do me a favor today, will you? Nosirs, noMr. Reeds. Call me Asher. Please.”
If James was going to see him in his weakest,most vulnerable moment, he could at least call Asher by his name.
Besides, Asher needed a friend. He may never have needed one quite as much as he did now.
“As you wish, Asher.” James smiled, but beneath the friendly expression there was a sadness that cut Asher bone deep.
James’s gaze flitted to the unmade bed and its pale blue tangle of sheets. He knew. Asher didn’t know how, but he knew.
“Give it to me straight, James. Do I really need to put on a tuxedo right now? Will that be necessary?” Asher focused on the floor and the plush blue carpet. He didn’t want to see the look on James’s face when he gave him the bad news.
He’d known it was coming the moment she’d left. She’d taken everything good out of the room with her. She’d taken the music. The silence had been unbearable.
“The queen has called for the coach,” James said gently. “I’m afraid the coach only comes out for coronations, the opening of Parliament, and royal weddings.”
Asher stared at that godforsaken carpet so hard that it began to blur before his eyes. “So she’s going through with it.”
James sighed and came to sit down at the foot of the bed beside Asher. “It appears so. I’m sorry, Asher.”
“So am I,friend,” Asher said. “So am I.”
They sat in silence for several long minutes, until Willow slipped quietly through the dog door and curled into a dejected pile at Asher’s feet.
Then they all sat just a few minutes more.
