Page 87 of Royally Wed
Her mother squeezed her hand and nodded. “Yes, my darling. I will.”
The crowd was growing restless, and so was Amelia. She’dsaid her piece, and now it was time to walk away from her wedding once and for all.
She handed her bouquet to her mother. “I’ve got to go.”
Gregory threw up his hands. “Bloody hell. You’re running away?”
Amelia smiled. “No. I’m running toward something.”
Toward life.
Toward music.
Toward love.
IT TOOK ASHER Awhile to navigate his way through the mass of people who’d gathered outside WestminsterAbbey in hopes of a glimpse of the royal bride and groom. The wall of people seemed never-ending, and hordes of people lined the streets for as far as he could see. But once he’d managed to push through to the other side, London was a virtual ghost town.
The silence was astounding.
Asher’s head had been so full of noise that at first theserenity that settled over the outskirts of Central Londonwas a comfort. He’d emptied himself at the Abbey, and now it seemed only natural that he could make his way across one of the biggest cities in the world without speaking to another person.
The tube was running, but Asher was the only passenger on board. When he exited at the Regent’s Park station, the platform was empty. Desolate. There was no attendant at the ticket counter and no one workingat the underground shops. It was as if the entire city was holding its breath, waiting for Princess Amelia and Duke Holden to become man and wife.
Had it happened yet?
Asher didn’t know. He’d lost track of the time, and that was fine. Being in rehearsals for the past nine days had drilled the order of ceremony into his head. He knew the exact moment that everything was supposed to transpireinside the church, down to the finalI do’s. One glance at a clock or at the time display on his phone and it would be over. It would be real, and there’d be no escaping the knowledge that she’d done it. She’d given herself away.
Until death do them part.
He bowed his head and walked past the stately manors in Regent’s Park and the candy-colored townhomes of Primrose Hill—pink, yellow, mint,and robin’s-egg blue. Asher felt out of place in the middle of so much whimsy. He didn’t belong here, but this had been the plan. This had been the place—the place that was to become his and Amelia’s. And now he had nowhere else to go.
When he arrived at his destination, he reached into hispocket for a few bills, but the woman at the entrance waved him through. “No charge today, sir. The royalwedding is on! It’s a national holiday.”
A holiday. Right.
“Thank you,” he said.
She gave his tuxedo a curious glance, but then turned her attention back toward the iPad propped inside her Plexiglas booth without mentioning his odd state of dress.
Asher hastened his steps to prevent himself from glancing at the image of the ceremony on the small screen. He’d begun to believe it was requiredviewing in the entirety of the United Kingdom. Gravel crunched beneath his feet and colorful leaves danced and swirled in the air as he made his way down the shady path.
He settled on a park bench to wait. Surely it was almost time.
Minutes after he sat down, he heard the rattle of a chain. He sat up straighter and peered into the distance, but as the noise grew closer, he realized it wasn’tcoming from the direction of the horizon. The sound was coming from just down the path.
Asher squinted toward the sun-dappled trail, and drew in a sharp breath when he spied a corgi trotting toward him at the end of a leash. The dog’s tags were jangling and its mouth was drawn open wide. It looked so much like it was smiling that Asher’s heart seemed to freeze, then began to pound hard and fast.
He pushed to his feet and walked toward the dog, trying to catch a glimpse of the human on the other end of theleash, all the while telling himself not to hold out hope, not to believe. But when the white dress came into view, with its layers upon layers of cascading tulle and lace, he realized he’d been expecting her all along. His Amelia. His runaway bride. His princess.
He knew he was onlyimagining things, but he could have sworn he heard music—Chopin’s Nocturne in E-flat Major, opus 9 no. 2, a piece he’d always associated with intimacy. The quiet joy of the soul.
“Hello, Asher,” she said as Willow collided into his shins in an explosion of fur and happy barks. Amelia looked much less confident than the audacious dog. Her cheeks were tear-stained, and the zoo’s gravel path hadtaken a toll on the hem of her wedding gown. Asher had never seen her look quite so lost before, not even the night he found her crying in the Abbey. “I realize I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but here I am.”
“Here you are.” Asher’s hands were shoved deep inside his pockets, and he struggled to keep them there. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to touch her and never stop,but first they had things to say to each other. Things they’d been fighting to hold inside for what felt like years.
“You found me.” He glanced toward the wide, green space on the opposite side of the stone wall that lined the path as Willow settled on his foot to gnaw on his shoelace.
“James helped me,” Amelia said. “He was watching the wedding on the telly and when he realized I changed mymind, he came to get me. I found him waiting for me outside the Abbey. With Willow, obviously.”
