Page 33 of Royally Wed
He felt strangely hopeful today. And he was dreading rehearsal a little less now that he had something elseoccupying his thoughts. Someoneelse.
Princess Naughty.
“Your breakfast, sir.”
Asher jumped at the sound of James’s voiceand clicked the X in the corner of the browser window on his laptop. He didn’t particularly want to get caught Googling Amelia, although judging from the page’s narrowed gaze, that ship had already sailed.
Asher sighed. He really wished people would stop sneaking up on him in this place. “Good morning, James.”
“Good day, sir.” A sea of corgis swarmed around James’s feet. James navigated deftlythrough them and positioned the silver tray on the elegant dining table adjacent to Asher’s bed.
The table was large enough to seat twelve. Asher couldn’t fathom why a guest suite in Buckingham Palace would need such a large table. But frankly, that was the least of the palace’s nonsensical attributes. “You really don’t need to keep addressing me assir. Call me Asher, please. I’m not accustomedto being waited on.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m afraid I can’t. It’s protocol. I could be sacked for breaking the rules.” James uprighted a teacup and began to pour steaming liquid into it, while the dogs followed his every move.
They were no doubt hoping James would slip up and drop something. Good luck with that,Asher thought.
James shot a nervous glance at Asher and cleared his throat. Nowthat Asher looked more closely at him, he noticed that the page seemed rather pale. “You’re not accustomed to being waited on. May I ask if that’s why youwent in search of dinner on your own last night rather than ringing for help?”
“You heard about that?” For some reason, this seemed like a very bad sign.
“Yes sir, I did.” He unfolded the napkin beside Asher’s plate and placed it on Asher’slap. This seemed like overkill. Asher could unfold his own napkin.
He was beginning to feel underdressed in his pajama bottoms and old Juilliard sweatshirt, even though for all practical purposes, this meal was room service. But he figured the napkin thing and the overall formality of this in-room dining experience went along with being calledsir, so he didn’t protest. Besides, James hadn’tquite met Asher’s gaze when he’d asked about last night’s shenanigans, and that didn’t bode well.
Asher frowned. “What happened last night hasn’t gotten you into trouble, has it?”
James shook his head and said, “No,” in a quiet tone that indicated the exact opposite.
“I’m sorry. I...” Asher sighed and stared at his eggs, as if they could somehow help him explain. But there was no explanation.He’d seen the panic in Amelia’s luminous eyes and said the first thing that sprang to mind. “... I won’t let it happen again.”
“I appreciate that, sir. I’m available anytime you require assistance.” James’s gaze flitted toward the wall that divided the Blue Room from the princess’s bedroom. “With anything.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Asher frowned. Just how much did the page know?
He knows Amelia was in your room two mornings ago, and now he knows the queen found you alone with her last night, someplace you shouldn’t have been.
Asher could see how that might look bad. But whatever he had going on with the princess wasn’t like that.
Was it?
Of course not. Even if it were, Asher didn’t quite understand the meaning behind the page’s cryptic glance. Was he offering to helpAsher sneak around with Amelia?
“I’m at your service, sir.” James nodded.
“I see.” Asher didn’t see. He didn’t know what the hell was going on with any of the people under this gilded roof.
He almost wished he could check into a hotel. Or a bed and breakfast. Someplace where he didn’t feel like he was being watched like a hawk. Someplace where his room wasn’t a revolving door for entitled dogsand wayward princesses.
His gaze dropped to his eggs again. Leaving the palace wasn’t actually what he wanted. The truth of the matter was that Asher was beginning to want things he knew he couldn’t have. He might have even wanted them all along, since the moment he’d played Adagio for Strings in the Abbey.
His hands tightened into fists in his lap.What you want isn’t part of the equation.She’s gettingmarried, and she’s aprincess, for crying out loud.
“Anything you need. Anything at all,” James said. “I just ask that you use the call button. I need this job, sir.”
Perfect. He’d apparently nearly gotten the page fired. Yet another reason why he needed to steer clear of Amelia fromnow on.
