Chapter 131

Poor creature.

Ashton paused in the doorway between his bedchamber and the dressing room, a full jug of water in his hand. From where he stood, he could see Rosalind fast asleep in the chair by the fire.

After tonight's events, she was worn out. It was a miracle she'd held out as long as she had. He set the jug of water down on the dresser and walked over to her chair. She did not stir as he cradled her in his arms and carried her to his bed. He set her down long enough to pull back the covers on one side, then picked her up again and placed her under them.

When he tried to tuck her hands under to keep them warm, she grasped his fingers and wouldn't let go. The connection sent soft warmth through his chest. He didn't want to let go of her hand. He pulled off his boots, then scooted her over in the bed so he could lie down beside her, still holding her hand in his. He lay there, watching the firelight play across her face and the shadows under her eyes.

He had learned much about his