Page 35 of Royally Wed
It wasn’t entirely horrible. Not the opera part, anyway. The performance was quite beautiful, actually. Lush and heartbreaking. Amelia keptcatching herself craning her neck in the royal box, searching for a glimpse of the cello players in the orchestra pit. There were so many of them—twelve, in all. She liked watching the sweeping movements of their bows, gliding in unison as the music swelled around her. She wondered if Asher was back at the palace, practicing. Thenshe wondered why on earth she cared.
“What do you think? Are youenjoyingMadame Butterfly?” Holden handed Amelia a champagne flute.
The lights had just gone up in the middle of the second act, during Butterfly’s vigil as she waited for her long-lost husband to return. It seemed like a cruel place for an intermission. Amelia had a lump in her throat, and she couldn’t seem to swallow it down as the royal party made its way to the private dining room connectedto the royal box.
She paused to answer Holden’s question before taking a sip of her Dom Perignon, until she realized the comment hadn’t been aimed at her.
“Lovely! The duet was breathtaking. Absolutely exquisite,” Lady Wentworth, situated directly opposite Amelia, gushed. “The best so far this season, wouldn’t you agree?”
Holden nodded. “Perhaps, althoughFideliowas excellent.”
Amelia hadnever heard ofFideliobefore. Maybe she should ask Asher about it the next time she saw him.
Because that makes so much more sense than asking one of the people right here.
She bit the inside of her cheek as a form of self-punishment. She really needed to stop thinking about Asher Reed. Their little leopard hunt was meant to be a distraction from the stress surrounding the wedding. Somehow,Asher himself had become a distraction... right around the time he’d kissed her. And again when he’d lied to the queen so she wouldn’t get in trouble.
No one lied to her mother. Asher was either crazy or themost confident man Amelia had ever come across. Either way, she liked it. She liked it a great deal more than she should have.
Focus. You’re here with your future husband. Remember?
Even worse, Gregory was in the royal box right alongside them. Was it Amelia’s imagination, or had he been staring at her all night?
She turned slightly to her left and sure enough, there he was.
“You look lovely, Amelia.” Gregory’s gaze swept her from top to bottom. Amelia somehow managed not to gag. “Almost like a glowing bride-to-be.”
She smiled sweetly at him. “Exactlylike a glowing bride-to-be.”
“Apologies. Just a slip of the tongue.” He shrugged one of his hideous shoulders.
In actuality, Gregory wasn’t terrible-looking. Once upon a time, Amelia had actually considered him to be quite handsome. Oh, how times had changed.
He swirled his glass. “Have I mentioned that the editor in chief of theDaily Mailis a good friend of mine?”
He had indeed. Countless times.
“Is he now? How fascinating,”she said flatly.
God, she despised him. He was all but threatening her while she was on a date with his brother.
“Nice old chap. We went to Eton together,” he said.
Amelia took a gulp of champagne. Not a dainty, princess-like sip. A gulp. “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to find Holden. It’s been lovely chatting with you.”
She turned her back before he could respond, stood, and made a beelinefor Holden.
Technically, this was the first actual date of their courtship. They’d made a few public appearances, of course. But those occasions had all involved events that were part of the court calendar.Madame Butterflywas not. This was their first night on the town as a couple. The fact that it came less than a week before their wedding might have been odd, if not for the fact that they’dbeen engaged for a whopping twenty-five days or so.
Holden had a very devoted circle of friends. Thanks to her friendship with Eleanor, Amelia knew all of them. Some better than others.
With the notable exception of Gregory, the entourage was a comforting presence. She wasn’t ready for a romantic evening with Holden, and his friends provided a convenient buffer.
“Amelia, that’s a stunning dressyou’re wearing. You look beautiful, dear.” Lady Wilhelmina Wentworth leaned over and brushed her fingertips on the satin skirt of Amelia’s crimson ball gown.
It was a motherly gesture, and it made Amelia smile. Lady and Lord Wentworth had been close friends of Eleanor’s family for as long as she could remember, especially in the years following her mother’s death. Lady Wentworth was practicallyEleanor’s surrogate mother.
“Thank you.” Amelia stood a little straighter and returned the compliment. “You look lovely as well. Is that a locket you’re wearing?”
