Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Noah was still fuming as he made his way back through the village streets.
MacTavish, the landlord. Malcolm at the tavern. How many others in his territory were exploiting people they saw as powerless? How many young women like Ava were being taken advantage of simply because they had no one to defend them?
I’d thought me clan was better than this.
Had prided himself on managing fair lands and ensuring his people were protected and treated justly. But clearly, he’d been too focused on bigger issues—border disputes, trade agreements, council politics—while small injustices grew unnoticed in the villages.
Noah was so lost in his dark thoughts that he almost walked past the market stall. It was the flash of color that caught his eye—ribbons, dozens of them, in every shade imaginable, fluttering in the afternoon breeze.
Esther would like those.
The thought came unbidden but certain. His niece had so few pretty things, and after the terror of the past few days, she deserved something bright and cheerful. Something that would make her smile.
Noah approached the stall, where an elderly woman was arranging her wares. “How much for the ribbons?”
“Depends on which ones ye want, me Laird.” The woman’s eyes widened in recognition, but she didn’t curtsy—too old for such things, probably. “The silk ones are dearer, but the cotton will hold up better for a wee lass who plays hard.”
“Show me the blue ones. Cotton.”
The woman held up several, and Noah pointed to one, the color of a summer sky. “That one. And the green one there.” He indicated a deeper shade, like pine needles.
“Good choices, me Laird. Will there be anythin’ else?”
Noah’s eyes drifted across the display, and he found himself pausing on a ribbon of pale green—not the deep forest shade he’d just selected, but something lighter and more delicate.
The color of new leaves in spring. The exact shade of Ava’s eyes.
He had no logical reason to buy it. Ava hadn’t asked for anything. Hell, she’d probably scold him for wasting money on frivolous things when the orphanage needed supplies.
But his hand was already reaching for it.
“This one too,” he heard himself say.
The woman’s weathered face creased into a knowing smile as she carefully wrapped all three ribbons. “Someone’s lucky, gettin’ such fine gifts.”
“It’s only a ribbon, not a crown.” Noah paid her and tucked the small package into his coat.
It was nothing. A simple gesture. The kind of thing any employer might do for someone who’d gone out of their way to help.
Except he’d never bought his stable master ribbons.
Noah pushed that thought aside and headed toward Ava’s cottage. The sun was sinking lower in the sky, painting everything in shades of gold and amber. He could hear voices as he approached—Ava’s clear and melodic, Esther’s low and light, punctuated by giggles.
He paused at the door, listening.
“—and then the selkie said, ‘If ye want me to stay, ye must never hide me skin. I must ken where it is always.’” Ava’s voice was animated, bringing the old tale to life. “But the fisherman was afraid she’d leave him, so he hid it anyway. Do ye ken what happened next?”
A pause, then Esther’s excited voice: “She... she found it!”
“Aye, she did! Right clever lass, that selkie. She searched and searched, and finally found her skin hidden in the rafters. And what do ye think she did?”
“She l-left!” Esther sounded both triumphant and sad. “She went b-back to the sea.”
“She did. Because he’d lied to her, ye see. Even though he loved her, he didnae trust her enough to let her choose to stay.” Ava’s voice softened. “The moral of the story is that ye cannae keep someone by takin’ away their freedom. Love has to be freely given, or it’s nae love at all.”
Noah felt something twist in his chest.
Was that story meant for Esther? Or was Ava making a point about her own situation, being brought to the castle whether she liked it or not?
He pushed open the door before he could dwell on it further.
Ava stood at the hearth, stirring something in a pot that smelled of herbs and vegetables. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, her braid coming loose again in that way that seemed perpetual.
And beside her, standing on a small stool so she could reach the work table, was Esther.
His niece was chopping vegetables—carefully, with a knife much too large for her small hands, but with intense focus. And she was laughing. Not just smiling, but genuinely laughing at something Ava had said, her whole face bright with joy.
“Uncle Noah!” Esther spotted him and waved enthusiastically, nearly dropping her knife in the process. “I’m... I’m helpin’ cook!”
“I can see that, lass.” Noah moved closer, watching Ava’s hand hover near Esther’s. “Ye’re doin’ a fine job.”
“She’s a natural,” Ava said, smiling at Esther with such genuine warmth it made Noah’s chest feel tight. “Few more years and she’ll be cookin’ circles around me.”
“That wouldnae be hard, from what I’ve tasted so far,” Noah said before he could stop himself.
Ava’s head whipped around, eyes narrowed. “Oi! I’ll have ye ken me cookin’ is perfectly adequate!”
“I didnae said adequate, did I?”
“Ye implied it!”
Esther giggled, smiling as she looked back and forth at them, and Noah realized they were arguing. Like... like a married couple might. The thought should have alarmed him. Instead, it felt strangely comforting.
“How did it go with MacTavish?” Ava asked, turning back to her pot.
“Fine. Ye’re settled. He willnae be botherin’ ye for more money.”
Ava’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “Thank ye. I ken ye probably terrified the poor man.”
“The poor man has been overchargin’ ye for years and lettin’ yer cottage fall apart while collectin’ rent for maintenance that was never done.” Noah’s voice hardened. “So no, I daenae feel particularly sympathetic to his plight.”
Ava’s hand stilled on her spoon. “How did ye—”
“The contract was shite. Exploitative. Designed to trap ye.” He pulled out the small package of ribbons, needing something to do with his hands. “I paid what was actually owed and nae a penny more. He wasnae happy, but he’ll survive.”
“Ye didnae have to do that.”
“Aye, I did.” Noah held out the blue ribbon to Esther. “Here, lass. For ye.”
Esther’s eyes went wide. She carefully set down her knife and took the ribbon with reverent fingers, as if it were made of spun gold rather than simple cotton. “For... for me?”
“Aye. Thought it might look bonnie in yer hair.”
“It’s beautiful!” Esther held it up to the fading light, watching it shimmer. “Thank ye, Uncle Noah!”
She wrapped her arms around his waist in an impulsive hug that caught him completely off guard. Noah froze for a moment, then carefully and gently rested one hand on her head.
“Ye’re welcome, wee one.”
When Esther stepped back, she was smiling brightly. Noah cleared his throat and extended the other ribbon, the pale green one, to Ava.
“This is for ye.”
Ava blinked at it. “Ye bought me a ribbon?”
“Aye. To match yer eyes.” The words came out more intimate than he’d intended, and he saw color rise in Ava’s cheeks.
“I... That’s generous, thank ye.”
“Ye are welcome.” He pressed it into her hand, his fingers brushing hers for just a moment. “Consider it payment for puttin’ up with me interference today.”
Ava looked down at the ribbon. “It’s lovely. Thank ye.”
The moment lingered between them, filled with something Noah preferred not to examine too much. Then Esther tugged on Ava’s skirt, breaking the spell.
“Is dinner ready? I’m hungry!”
“Almost, sweetheart. Why daenae ye and yer uncle set the table?”
They ate together as the sun set beyond the window, casting the small cottage in warm amber light.
Esther chattered subtly about her day—the children she played with, the games they created, and the story Ava told her. Noah listened, watching his niece’s lively face, amazed at her transformation.
This is the child she could have been all along, he realized. If I’d known how to reach her. If I’d understood what she needed.
Ava had done in days what he’d failed to do in two years.
After dinner, Ava took Esther upstairs to get ready for bed, her voice drifting down as she started another story—this one about a brave selkie warrior who had saved her pod from a great shark.
Noah cleaned up the dishes, strangely content with the domestic task, listening to Esther’s occasional questions and Ava’s patient answers.
By the time Ava came back down, the kitchen was clean, and Noah had settled into the worn chair in the sitting room, his mind already on tomorrow’s journey.
“She’s asleep,” Ava said softly, moving to the small chest against the wall. She began pulling out clothing, folding it carefully. “I need to finish packin’ me things.”
Noah watched her work, noting the sparse collection of her belongings. A few dresses, all well-worn and carefully mended. A hairbrush with missing bristles. A shawl so threadbare it probably offered little warmth. This was everything she owned in the world, and it barely filled half the chest.
“Did ye say goodbye to yer family today?” The question came out before he’d fully formed it. “I didnae see ye visit anyone.”
Ava’s hands stilled on the dress she was folding. Her spine went rigid.
“Nay.”
“Nay family at all? No parents, siblings?”
“Nay.” The word was abrupt and final. She continued folding with swift, angry movements.
“Ava—”
“I said nay.” She didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes fixed on the dress in her hands, her fingers gripping the fabric too tightly. “There’s nay need to say goodbye to people who daenae care for ye.”
Noah stood, moving closer.
“What happened?”
“Nothin’ that concerns ye.” Ava shoved the folded dress into her pack with unnecessary force.
“If ye’re comin’ to live at me castle, under me protection, it concerns me.” Noah stopped a few feet away, watching her carefully. “What happened with yer family?”
“I left. That’s all ye need to ken.”
But as she said it, her right hand moved unconsciously to her left arm, rubbing at a spot just above her elbow. The gesture was instinctive.
Noah’s eyes tracked the movement. Watched her fingers press against that specific spot, saw the way her jaw clenched as she did it. A scar. She was rubbing an old scar.
And Noah’s blood went cold.
Someone had put their hands on her, left a mark, and made her flinch at the mere mention of family. And now, years later, she still reached for that spot whenever memories surfaced.
“Did someone hurt ye?” His voice dropped to something dangerous.
“It’s none of yer business.”
“Did. Someone. Hurt. Ye.”
Ava finally turned to face him, her eyes blazing. “What does it matter? It was years ago! I left when I was sixteen, and I’ve nae looked back since.”
“Who was it?” Noah took a step closer, his hands clenching into fists. “Yer father? Brother? Tell me their names.”
“Why?” Ava laughed, but there was no humor in it. “So ye can ride off and avenge me honor like some hero from a ballad? I daenae need yer protection, me Laird. I’ve been protectin’ meself just fine for years.”
“Ye shouldnae have had to.” They were close now, close enough that he could see the gold flecks in her green eyes, the faint scar on her chin he’d never noticed before. “Ye work for me now. Ye’re under me protection. That means anyone who’s hurt ye answers to me.”
“I daenae belong to ye,” Ava shot back, lifting her chin defiantly. “I’m yer employee, nae yer property.”
“Ye’re one of mine.” Noah’s voice dropped to a growl. “The moment I claimed ye as part of me household, ye became mine to protect. And anyone who harms what’s mine dies.”
“That’s... Ye cannae just say things like that,” Ava sputtered, caught between outrage and something else. “I’m nae some possession ye can claim!”
“Too late, lass.” Noah stepped even closer, invading her space. “The claim’s already been made. There’s nay turnin’ back from it.”
“Ye’re mad,” Ava whispered, but she didn’t step back. Didn’t look away. “Completely mad.”
“Tell me who hurt ye.” It wasn’t a request. It was a command, spoken in the voice of a laird who expected to be obeyed.
“Nay.”
“Tell me.”
“Nay!” Ava’s voice rose, her chest heaving. “Ye have nay right to demand that! Ye have nay right to any of it! I’m nae yers to command, nae yers to protect, nae yers at all!”
“Ye’re wrong.”
Noah stepped closer.
The tension between them crackled with something dangerous, something that made his pulse pound in his ears. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest and how her pupils dilated as she looked up at him.
Ava’s breath hitched—a sharp, audible intake that made him freeze.
Noah’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
He should step back. Should put distance between them before he did something they’d both regret. This woman had been hurt before, had run from someone who’d used their strength against her, and here he was, towering over her, using his size to—
“I... I daenae understand.”
“I’ll make ye understand,” Noah growled, his voice dropping to something rough and raw.
His hand came up slowly, giving her time to pull away, to refuse, and cupped her jaw. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his calloused palm.
“I’ll make ye see that ye’re mine now. Mine to protect. Mine to defend. Mine.”
Ava’s eyes fluttered shut for just a heartbeat, and when they opened again, they burned with an intensity that matched the fire in his own blood.
“Then prove it,” she whispered.
Noah claimed her mouth.
It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t the sweet, careful kiss of courtship. It was rough, demanding, and possessive, with his mouth capturing hers with an intensity that even surprised him.
His other hand came up to tangle in her hair, pulling her closer, angling her head so he could deepen the kiss.
And Ava—fierce, stubborn, impossible Ava—kissed him back.
Her hands clenched in his shirt, not to push him away but to pull him closer, holding on as if he were the only steady thing in a world that had tilted sideways.
She made a sound, need or surrender, he couldn’t tell, and opened for him when his tongue traced the seam of her lips.
This was madness. He knew it was madness. But he couldn’t stop.
Ava was his. His to protect, his to keep safe, his to—
What? What am I doin’?
With tremendous effort, Noah pulled back, breaking the kiss. They were both breathing hard, Ava’s face flushed, and her eyes glazed with shock.
“That...” she started, her voice shaking. “That was...”
“A mistake,” Noah finished, though the words tasted like lies. He released her, stepping back and trying to ignore how empty his hands felt. “I shouldnae have done that.”
“Nay,” Ava agreed faintly. “Ye shouldnae have.”
But neither of them looked away. Neither of them moved.
And Noah knew, with absolute certainty, that he was in serious trouble. Because kissing Ava Harris hadn’t felt like a mistake at all.