Page 8 of Royally Wed
CHAPTER
THREE
Asher had no idea whether or not he should bow. He remembered reading something about proper royal protocol in the informational packet the palace had emailed to him before his flight, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall what it said.
The packet had been seven pages long, single-spaced, and covered everything, from when to speak to a royal—only after being spoken to first—tothe queen’s preference for self-tying bow ties. Supposedly, the monarch could spot a pretied one at twenty paces. Asher was wearing a traditional necktie, no bow in sight. But he’d knotted his silk Hermès himself, and he figured that had to count for something.
Still, he was drawing a complete blank when it came to whether or not he should bow to the princess. He went ahead and did it. If anything,it’d buy him some time to try to figure out what to say.
Bowing was the wrong move, though, and the princess didn’t hesitate to let him know. “You don’t need to do that, Mr. Reed. I’m a princess, not a queen. And you’re American.”
Asher straightened. “Right.”
He stopped short of apologizing. That seemed like overkill. He’d been hoping for the opportunity to see her again before the wedding.He’d thought about it quite a lot, actually. More than he wanted to admit.
She’d intrigued him.
But as many times as he’d contemplated a situation exactly like this one, it never crossed his mind that the first words out of her mouth would be a criticism of his etiquette.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Reed.” She gazed at him impassively and extended her hand.
He took it, convinced shemust not remember him. The Abbey had been dark. Even if she’d gotten a good view of him, why would she recognize him now? From the little he knew of her, he didn’t think the princess was a classical-music fan. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Royal Highness.”
Upon closer inspection, Asher realized she wasn’t meeting his gaze. She wasn’t focusing on his face at all. Rather, her attention seemedto be fixed squarely on the knot in his tie.
He cleared his throat, and her cheeks grew pink, but her gaze didn’t stray from his half Windsor knot.
Interesting.
Either she was purposely avoiding his gaze, or her mother wasn’t the only member of the family who had some serious feelings when it came to neckties.
“Amelia, Mr. Reed has just arrived from the States,” the queen said. At the soundof the monarch’s voice, the dogs at his feet swiveled their heads in her direction in unison. “Mr.Reed is a soloist with the New York Philharmonic and will be performing at the wedding ceremony.”
Formerlywith the New York Philharmonic. But Asher wasn’t about to correct her. Instead, he glanced at the princess and at last, she met his gaze.
He smiled.
Her flush promptly deepened at least threeshades. So she remembered him, after all. “Of course I’ve heard of you, Mr. Reed. You’re a virtuoso. But I don’t understand. The orchestra has been rehearsing for weeks, and I was under the impression Yo-Yo Ma was performing the cello solo.”
Again Asher got the impression she was waiting for him to apologize, this time for his failure to be Yo-Yo Ma.
“Mr. Ma has fallen ill. I’m his replacement,”Asher said.
Why did he get the feeling she wouldn’t consider this good news?
“I see.” She swallowed, drawing Asher’s attention to the slender elegance of her throat.
He fought the urge to stare. In the bright light of day, she was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. Dazzling. Regal. Yet, there was a wildness about her that he’d never expect of a princess. It was most alluring.
Last nighthad been strange and surprising in all the best ways. As much as he’d hated hearing her cry, Princess Amelia had worn her sadness like a crown. Once she’d revealed herself, he realized why. Then she’d glided past him, leaving him with the eerie sensation that their meeting had been meaningful in some way.
Special.
In the past twelve hours, he’d managed to convince himself it hadn’t been anythingof the sort. He’d just fallen under the spell of the Abbey’s ghosts. Surely the moment hadn’t been as profound as he remembered.
He was wrong about that. Their brief encounter had meant something. If it hadn’t, the princess wouldn’t have so much trouble looking him in the eye.
He also wouldn’t feel as awkward as he did right then.
