~ ASH ~
When I reached our rooms that night, after teasing Stark because he'd insisted on being the one to read to the children before sleep, I found Lizbeth awake and up, but dressed for bed.
She stood in front of the fire, though the night wasn't cold, staring into the flames. I was struck once more by her.
From this angle, the fire rose in crackling flames behind her, haloing her in warm light and revealing her beautiful, lithe form under the thin cotton of the nightgown.
She had let her hair down and it fell in heavy, golden waves down her narrow back because she'd had it braided most of the day. Her maid had brushed it out, leaving it thick and shining. It rippled beautifully in the light from the candles on this side of the room.
I hesitated in the doorway, watching her for a moment when she didn't know I was there, letting my mind turn back to fully appreciate the beauty of my wife.
