Page 72 of Wicked Rivals
Ashton looked over the heads of the reunited couple to see Rosalind, her face pale as she coughed a little herself. He stood and came over to her, lifting her gently to her feet.
“Are you hurt?” he asked, studying her face for signs of distress. He could barely think, barely breathe after the fear and panic he’d endured the last few seconds when he thought he wouldn’t find her in time.
She shook her head. “No.”
Anger swept through him. She could have died. What the blazes had she been thinking to go in after a man when she might drown herself?
“Good. Because when we get home I have a mind to put my hand to your backside. How could you scare my mother and sister like that?” He’d almost admitted that he’d been the one most terrified. The thought of her lost in the river—it was too close to the past. He shut his eyes, trying to hold the memories at bay.
Icy water, the screams of young men, a struggling body bound in ropes, shouts of rage fighting with shouts of reason. Three men had gone under that night, and one had never come back up. Charles and Hugo had resurfaced, and all of them had searched for a young man who would never be seen again. Hugo had crawled onto the opposite bank on his hands and knees, his voice filled with anguish and then rage as he cursed Charles and all those who had stood with him to hell.
Ashton opened his eyes. “It was a brave thing you did, saving Stadley. But swear to me you will never do something so foolish again. I cannot lose you, do you understand?”
A strange emotion filled her eyes, but she did not speak right away. She must have seen something of his pain and fear because she slowly nodded.
“I’m sorry,” Rosalind whispered.
“Come, we must get back to the coach.”
Relief began to overwhelm his anger, and Ashton was feeling closer to his usual self. Rosalind was halfway up the riverbank when he noticed she was in her underthings. Her gown and petticoats lay clumped in a pile by the coach. He’d forgotten that in his panic, and so had she apparently, because she would have been scrambling for her dress had she remembered.
“Rosalind, wait.” He caught up with her and placed a hand on her back. “You’re painting far too tempting a picture for the men, sweetheart. Stay here.” He waved for her to remain ducked down behind the sloping bank while he called to the driver.
“Fetch my coat, but remove the papers from the inside pocket.” He waited for the man to do as he asked, and then he carried it back down the bank.
“Put this on. It will cover you enough to keep you warm.”
Shivering, she let him slide the coat over her body. A sudden flash of a memory from last year almost made him smile. He’d helped Godric protect Emily when Godric had fallen off his horse into a lake and she’d chased in after him.Now it is my woman I’m protecting.
“Ashton, are you well, my boy?” His mother and Joanna were staring at him.
“I’m fine. We’re all fine. Just had a bit of a fright.” They had no idea how true that was.
“Have the driver tie Ashton’s horse to the back of the coach,” his mother told Joanna. Then she ushered him and Rosalind into the vehicle.
His mother patted his shoulder and touched Rosalind’s cheek. “You’ll both need hot baths and soup. I want you to stay by the fire in your room until dinner. We do not need anyone taking ill due to the chill.”
Ashton sat beside Rosalind, and before she could protest, he lifted her onto his lap and tucked her body close to his, not caring if his mother considered it scandalous.
His fiancée struggled, but he held fast and put his lips to her ear. “Rest and take my body heat. Fight me later once you’re warm and dry.”
After a moment, her body relaxed and all of the tension seemed to flow out of her at last. Ashton ignored the worried glances of his mother and sister.
“That was a very brave thing you did, my dear.” His mother leaned over and patted Rosalind’s hand. “Very brave.” As she said this her voice had a slight tremor to it.
Ashton bit back a snarl. “She risked her bloody neck!”
“And saved Mr. Stadley’s life,” Joanna cut in.
He waited, expecting Rosalind to come to her own defense, but she said nothing. Instead she remained still in his arms, and every now and then a little shiver rippled from her. It only made him hold her tighter.
She sat on his lap, a determined set to her chin.
“I’ll not let you lay a hand on me,” she warned quietly.
“What?” He didn’t follow her remark.
Fire flashed in her eyes. “You said you’d take a hand to my backside before. I won’t let you. Not for any reason. Certainly not for doing what was right.”
