Page 49 of Royally Wed
Amelia’s mum shook her head. “Not quite. Can we see whatthis one would look like paired with the longer train?”
“Certainly, ma’am.” The designer scurried off to retrieve the sweeping, cathedral-length train that had already been fastened to the gown she would actually wear on her wedding day.
Once she was out of earshot, Amelia fixed her gaze with the queen’s in the mirror. “Was that really necessary? I think they’re confused enough. I’m not surewe need to go any further to make it look like this is the real dress.”
The monarch arched a brow. “How do you know it’s not?”
“Because the dress with the gold trim and the glass beading is the one I’m actually going to wear.” They’d settled on that one two weeks ago. It had a huge tulle skirt that made Amelia look like she was floating when she walked. If she were blonde, the dress would makeher a dead ringer for Cinderella.
“Perhaps.” Her mother pursed her lips. “Perhaps not.”
Amelia stared. Her stomach clenched, as if she’d been physically struck. “What are you talking about?”
“Amelia, you know how important it is that everything go according to plan on Saturday.”
Of course she knew. If the wedding hadn’t been so important, she never would have agreed to it to begin with. “Whatare you saying? You think I’m going to leak the design of my own wedding gown?”
“Not intentionally.” The queen lifted a knowing brow. “But accidents happen. I’m simply protecting you from yourself, darling.”
Amelia didn’t know whether to feel furious or ashamed. She had a right to choose her own wedding gown. She was a grown woman, and she was saving the family crown. Her mum should be thankingher right now, not doing her best to remind Amelia of her past mistakes.
But she sort of deserved it, didn’t she? She’d been playing with fire all week, since the moment she’d first set eyes on Asher Reed.
“I need a minute,” she blurted, gathering her voluminous skirt in her hands and climbing down from the pedestal.
Amelia’s hands were shaking, and she couldn’t quite catch her breath. If shetook one look at her mother, she’d burst into tears. She refused to cry. If she broke down in front of the entire design team from London’s most prestigious atelier, she’d only prove the queen right. Everyone would know she was a train wreck. The illusion would be shattered, and it would be all her fault.
“Where do you think you’re going?” her mother hissed.
“I don’t feel well all of a sudden.I think I just need some air.” Her eyes burned. She blinked furiously and headed for the door.
The designer who’d gone to retrieve the train returned with it folded neatly in her arms and stopped in her tracks. She glanced from Amelia to the queen and back again, seemingly unsure whether or not she should follow the runaway bride.
“My daughter will be right back.” The queen’s voice was smoothand serene. Overly so. “Amelia darling, don’t keep us waiting long.”
AMELIA DIDN’T REALIZE WILLOWhad followed her hasty retreat until she’d reached her suite and turned around to shut the door behind her. The dog stared at her, wide-eyed.Amelia stared back. She needed to be alone for a minute. Truly alone. No stylists fluttering around her, going on about what a beautiful bride she was. Noqueen reminding her how she always managed to screw things up. No dogs.
Willow’s ears swiveled back, and she gave Amelia her best pitiful puppy look.
“Faker,” Amelia muttered. The corgi was a bigger drama queen than the monarch herself. “Fine. Come on in.”
If Amelia didn’t let Willow in, she’d just burst through the dog door. She held the door open until the dog waddled her way inside, andthen she slammed it closed.
She couldn’t believe she was getting ready to walk down the aisle at Westminster Abbey, and she didn’t know what she’d be wearing. Her frustration wasn’t about the dress, though. It was about so much more, mainly the fact that she was beginning to realize that what she was about to do wouldn’t change her place in the family at all. She was just a body they needed toprop up at the altar and exchange vows with one of the Becketts. If there’d been someone else—anyoneelse—who could have done it, Amelia wouldn’t have been asked. She knew as much without a doubt.
“What am I doing, Willow? Am I making a mistake?”
Willow cocked her head at the sound of her name. Unfortunately, that was her only commentary on the subject.
Amelia sighed. She couldn’t questionher decision now. It was too late. Besides, whether her mother believed in her or not no longer mattered. Because Amelia believed in herself. She believed in the crown, and she would do whatever she had to do to protect her family’s legacy.
She just wished there were a better way.
Oh, how she wished.
Keep dreaming. Have you forgotten that you’re wearing a wedding gown right now?
She triedto sit down on the purple velvet sofa at the foot of her bed, but the dress puffed up around her in an explosion of lace and tulle. She couldn’t seem to see straight either. No matter where she turned, things looked fuzzy around the edges, not quite in focus. She blinked—hard—convinced she was losing it. Then she reached up to rub her eyes and realized there was a wedding veil pinned to her upswepthair.
