Page 81 of Royally Wed
Or maybe those stern warnings are actually meant for me.
Be quiet.
Behave.
She let out a hysterical noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
Her father shot her a sideways glance as they entered the building, just out of sight of photographers. He whispered, “Take deep breaths, Amelia. This will all be over before you know it.”
But it would never be over. This was her life now. Her future.
She should’ve never slept with Asher. If she hadn’t, maybe she would havebeen able to hold her head up high and walk into the nave like a real bride, even knowing what she did about Holden and Wilhelmina. At least then she would’ve only been betraying herself.
Now she was betraying Asher, too. She felt as if he were still moving inside her, still running his hands through her hair and pressing his lips to the hollow of her throat. She should have kissed him more whenshe had the chance. She should have told him again how much his music meant to her.
She should have said good-bye.
But she didn’t, and now she was betraying them both.
Amelia looked up at her father and searched his gaze. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for—a sign ofsome sort. Some kind of assurance that Asher had been wrong. There was a simple explanation for the watch, the incidentat the Abbey... for everything. It was a silly thing to hope for. Asher hadn’t been mistaken. She knew that, and if she hadn’t, her father’s reluctance to meet her gaze would have convinced her.
Did he know about Holden and Wilhelmina?
Dideveryoneknow?
“I’ll be right back, darling.” Her father gave her arm a pat and headed toward the corner of the church where Holden’s brother Gregorystood, beaming as if he’d just won the lottery.
For all practical purposes, he had. He’d managed to take a rumor from an old diary and spin it into a place in the line of succession for his family. History would be made here today.
Amelia’s bouquet began to tremble in her grasp. It shook so hard that one of the English tea roses fell out of place. Amelia caught it before it hit the floor andtucked it back inside the arrangement.
As she did, she caught sight of the little lace square Eleanor had given her back at the palace. She’d forgotten all about it.
“Your Royal Highness, it’s time.”
Amelia looked up. The officer who’d helped her out of the coach nodded toward the sanctuary.
“I can’t... the sixpence...” She shook her head. Panic gathered in a tight knot in her chest.
The officer gave her a tight smile. “The ceremony has begun. It’s time for you to walk down the aisle.”
“Wait just a second,” she said as she tugged on the end of the slender blue ribbon that held the small lace bundle together.
“But there’s no time, Your Royal Highness. The music has already started.”
He was right. Amelia could already hear the opening bars of the anthem. Her father was walkingstraight toward her with his arm bent, ready to escort her into the nave.
Oh God, it’s really time.
She thought about Asher sitting alongside the other musicians, waiting for his solo. What was he thinking right then? Was he remembering their night together—the things they’d said, the things they’d done? Was he dwelling on the memories, holding them tight, lest they slip away?
She doubted it.
He was probably furious with her. Furious and hurt. With good reason.
She’d tried to tell him, but deep down she knew she hadn’t tried hard enough. James could have helped her. If she’d insisted, he could’ve helped her find a way to say good-bye. She just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t look Asher in the eyes and tell him she was going through with the wedding. It would have killed her.
Forgethim.
