<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/54/21/19/542119af27b86b5be1e565be2cf2a8ad.jpg)<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: georgia;"><strong>Asher Bray</strong></span></div></div>Graham immediately took charge once they were home, and while his guardian did not openly refute any of the decisions he made — being the head of the house, as it were — Asher found himself feeling a bit apprehensive with the lady being housed just across the hall from Graham’s bedroom, even though he understood why it was necessary that they keep her close.  Easier to watch her under their cloak of protection.  His concern was less for the sake of propriety and more about protecting that noble neck he favored so much.  He didn’t believe Meg had any malicious intent toward his lord, but what about those who hunted her?  Of course, Asher knew that Amberthorne was reasonably guarded, even if he felt that there would never be enough trained bodies to properly sustain an organized attack.  Mouths would always be hungry, and the gold would eventually run out.<br/><br/>He only had himself to blame for inviting trouble to their door, but that did not cause him to regret saving her.  At the time she had no one to stand up for her and step between the bloodthirsty men and their hounds.  And, he convinced himself, it wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last, that Amberthorne faced strife.<br/><br/>With Graham’s silent indication that he was to participate escorting Meg to her room, Asher quietly fell into step behind the pair, and she was given a platform to tell her story.  He kept close, prepared to help catch her if she lost her balance so Graham wouldn’t have to on his own.  Those tender joints were likely singing with pain.  Nothing he could do about it until later.  For now, Meg was the focus.  And, thinking on her words, one thing he noticed immediately was her strength, and whether it was prior knowledge of how to care for herself in the woods or sheer determination to survive, she’d earned his respect.  She said she would not surrender at capture, and while a bold claim, he believed her.<br/><br/>They stopped in front of the door that was now hers for the time being, and she looked from one to the other, exposing just a crack of vulnerability in her fortress of fortitude.  Standing there before them, insect-bitten skin covered with mud and leaves stuck in her messy hair, with her dirty, shredded dress stubbornly clinging to her body, looking to lost and yet still unbroken, he affirmed that he could not regret his actions.  The instinct to protect surged forth, and he casually clasped his hands behind his back to fight off certain impulses... to maybe pluck the leaves that dared defile her hair, or worse, wrap her in his arms and become her shield.<br/><br/>Instead, he offered solace in his soft tone and accommodating words.  “Easy, my lady.  You need not push yourself for answers, and we will not pry anymore tonight.”  He quickly glanced at Graham, knowing his compliance would help put Meg at ease.<br/><br/>Down the hall from which they just traveled, something was making its way toward them with even, determined clicks.  Asher knew that stride from anywhere.  Sara, housekeeper of Amberthorne and wife to Ricard, carried herself with that same no-nonsense air that her husband did.  She was middle-aged, her dark hair streaked with gray pulled to the back of her head in a tight knot, making her expression appear all the more severe.  She carried her willowy frame with a straight back, refusing to bend from fatigue after a full day’s worth of work.  She was not alone.  Trying to keep up with her were several servants, sharing the load of carrying buckets filled with steaming water while Sara held an armful of towels and clean clothes.<br/><br/>By herself, she was a force to be reckoned with, and the men would be helpless to stop her from sweeping Meg away and helping her get situated.<br/><br/>Asher opened the door to the chamber, and Sara stopped before Meg to give her a lookover.  The scowl she wore coming down the hall was similar to her husband’s, but it softened as she took in the state of the young woman before her.  Many questions swarmed inside her, and she kept them locked up.  Her greatest concern was getting her charge bathed and rid of any blood-sucking vermin stuck to her skin.  “I can take it from here, my lord,” she nodded to Graham and Asher both, then let relief brush some of the tension away from her eyes.  “Welcome home.”  From there, she turned to Meg and gently coaxed the woman inside, offering assistance in case she lost her balance.  “My name is Sara, my lady.  Are you injured anywhere…”  Her voice faded as they went into the room, followed by the entourage.  The last servant offered a shy smile and closed the door behind her.<br/><br/>With Meg out of sight, he was able to relax.  “Been a while since we’ve had a lady present…,” Asher slid a hand across the base of his neck as that uncomfortable thought made a home inside his mind.