Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Now, Esther. Ye have nice writin’, but ye have to curve yer letters better so they are clearer to read. See? This word right here is ‘G-R-E-A-T.’ Can ye trace the first letter with yer finger? Just follow the curve, then go up...”
Ava watched as Esther’s small finger carefully traced the letter on the slate board, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration.
Two days had passed since that mortifying evening in the library, two days of avoiding Noah’s eyes at meals and pretending she didn’t remember telling him he was handsome while drunk on his dram.
She remembered every humiliating word. But right now, she needed to focus on Esther, not her own embarrassment.
“That’s perfect!” Ava encouraged. “Now try writin’ it yerself. Remember to do it the way I taught ye so yer letters are neat and clear.”
Esther picked up the chalk with trembling fingers. She made the curve easily enough, and soon her ‘G’ was done. But when she tried to write the letter ‘R’, her hand slipped. The letter came out crooked, lopsided.
Esther’s whole body stiffened. Her shoulders curled in, her breath quickened, and Ava saw fear cross her small face.
“I... I’m s-sorry,” Esther whispered, her voice shaking. “I didnae... I’ll do it again, I’ll do it again.”
She was already reaching to wipe the slate clean, her hands shaking so badly the chalk clattered to the table.
“Esther, sweetheart, it’s all right.”
“I’m s-sorry!” Esther’s voice climbed higher, tears welling in her eyes. “I’ll... I’ll do better, I p-promise, please daenae hit me.”
“Esther, stop.” Ava gently caught the child’s hands, holding them still. “Look at me, sweet girl. Look at me.”
Esther’s eyes met hers, wide and terrified, tears already streaming down her cheeks.
“Ye did nothin’ wrong,” Ava said firmly but gently. “Do ye hear me? Nothin’ wrong at all.”
“But... but the letter, it’s ugly, I m-messed it up.”
“Ye’ve nae been practicin’. Of course it’s nae perfect.
” Ava squeezed Esther’s hands. “Learnin’ takes time.
It takes practice. And it takes making mistakes.
That’s how we learn, aye? Remember when ye told me yer name by writin’ it?
Ye ken ye’ve been writin’ ‘R’ longer than ye realize because it’s in yer name. ”
“Aye. It is. But I cannae write it now the way ye taught me. And… and what if… what if ye get angry?” Esther’s voice was barely a whisper now, her whole body trembling. “What if I’m... I’m too stupid to learn and ye... ye leave like…like M-Margaret did?”
Ava’s heart shattered. She pulled Esther into her arms, holding the sobbing child close.
“I’m nae goin’ anywhere,” she said fiercely. “Do ye hear me? I’m nae leavin’. Nae because of crooked letters or mistakes or anythin’ else. And I’m especially nae leavin’ because ye’re learnin’ at yer own pace.”
“Me... me da said I was s-stupid,” Esther hiccupped against Ava’s shoulder. “Said I c-couldnae learn nothin’ right. Said I was... was worthless.”
“Yer da was wrong.” Ava pulled back just enough to look Esther in the eyes, brushing away her tears with gentle fingers. “Ye’re one of the smartest wee lasses I’ve ever met. And do ye ken how I know that?”
Esther shook her head, still crying.
“Because ye’ve already learned all yer letters in just a few days.
Because ye’re brilliant at numbers, ye counted all the way to fifty yesterday without any help.
Because ye remembered every single plant I showed ye in the garden.
” Ava cupped Esther’s face gently. “Ye’re nae stupid, Esther.
Ye’re wonderful. And I’m so proud of ye. ”
“Really?” Esther’s voice was small, uncertain.
“Really and truly.” Ava wiped away more tears. “Now, I want ye to listen very carefully to me, aye? When ye make a mistake during our lessons, I’m nae goin’ to get angry. I’m nae goin’ to yell. I’m nae goin’ to hurt ye or tell ye ye’re stupid. Do ye ken why?”
“Why?”
“Because mistakes are how we learn. Every single person who’s ever learned to write made crooked letters at first. Every person who learned to read got words wrong. That’s normal. That’s expected.”
Esther studied Ava’s face for a long moment, as if trying to figure out if she was telling the truth. Gradually, the tension started to leave her small body.
“I’m... I’m sorry I cried,” she whispered.
“Daenae apologize for yer feelings, sweetheart. If ye need to cry, ye can cry. I’ll be right here.” Ava pressed a kiss to Esther’s forehead. “Now, do ye want to try that letter again? And this time, we’ll do it together. I’ll guide yer hand, aye?”
Esther nodded, still sniffling but calmer now. Ava positioned herself behind her, wrapping her hand gently around Esther’s smaller one.
“Ready? Up... and curve. There! See? Perfect.”
“It’s still a wee bit crooked,” Esther observed, her voice steadier now.
“Aye, it is. And that’s perfectly fine. Let’s try another one.”
They practiced for another ten minutes, Ava guiding Esther’s hand through each letter. Gradually, Esther’s confidence returned, though Ava noticed she still tensed every time she made a mistake, still glanced up anxiously to check Ava’s reaction.
“I think that’s enough writin’ for today,” Ava said finally. “Yer hand must be gettin’ tired. Should we move on to numbers?”
Esther brightened immediately. “Aye! I like numbers.”
“I noticed.” Ava smiled, pulling out a small basket of smooth stones she’d collected from the garden. “All right, let’s start with somethin’ simple. If I have ten stones, and I give ye two, how many do I have left?”
Esther’s brow furrowed in concentration, but this time there was no fear in her expression. Just focus.
“Eight,” she said confidently.
“Exactly right! Ye’re so good at this.” Ava added more stones to the pile. “Now, what if I have seven stones, and I take away four...”
They worked through various problems, Esther’s enthusiasm growing with each correct answer.
This was where she truly shined; numbers made sense to her in a way that letters sometimes didn’t. They followed a logic, a predictability that seemed to comfort her.
By the time they finished, Esther was smiling again, the earlier tears forgotten.
“Can we go to the gardens again?” she asked hopefully. “I want to show ye somethin’ I found yesterday.”
“Of course we can. Just let me put these away, and—”
A knock at the study door interrupted her. Caitlin poked her head in, her usual cheerful smile in place.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, Miss Harris, but the Laird is askin’ for ye. Says it’s important.”
Ava’s stomach did an uncomfortable flip. She hadn’t been alone with Noah since the library incident, had made sure to always have Esther with her at meals, and had found excuses to avoid his study when he’d sent for her before.
“Did he say what it was about?” Ava asked, hating how her voice wavered slightly.
“Nae, just that he needs to speak with ye.” Caitlin’s eyes sparkled with barely suppressed curiosity. “But he seemed quite... determined.”
Of course he did.
“All right.” Ava stood, smoothing down her skirts. “Esther, why daenae ye go play in yer room for a bit? I’ll come find ye when I’m done, and we can go to the gardens together. Aye?”
Esther nodded, though anxiety flickered across her face. “Ye... ye’re comin’ back?”
“Always,” Ava promised, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll always come back.”
“Ye’re certain it’s him?”
Noah stared at the map spread across his desk, at the spot Elliot had marked with a small X. The edge of MacGregor territory, where the land turned wild and rocky before bleeding into neutral ground.
“Aye, I’m certain.” Elliot leaned against the desk, his expression grim. “Three different scouts confirmed it. William camped out there, drunk more often than nae, rantin’ to anyone who’ll listen about how ye stole his birthright.”
“His birthright.” Noah’s jaw clenched. “I’m the eldest. The lairdship was never his to begin with.”
“Aye, well, logic hasnae ever been William’s strong suit.” Elliot crossed his arms. “He’s also been spreadin’ rumors about ye. Sayin’ ye’re unfit to lead, that ye drove him away, that ye’re...” he hesitated.
“What?”
“That ye’re keepin’ his daughter prisoner. That he wants her back, but ye willnae allow it.”
Noah’s hands flattened on the desk, his knuckles going white. “He abandoned her. Left her on me doorstep. Now he wants her back?”
“I daenae think he actually does. I think he’s just tryin’ to stir up trouble, make ye look bad.
” Elliot’s voice was careful. “Most people arenae listenin’ to him.
They ken what happened two years ago. But there are always those who’ll listen to a discontented man with grievances, real or imagined. ”
“How many?”
“Nae enough to be a real threat. Yet.” Elliot straightened. “Do ye want me to bring him in? We could lock him up, keep him from causin’ more problems.”
Every instinct Noah had screamed yes. Bring William in, make him answer for what he’d done to Esther, make him pay for every bruise, every moment of fear, every tear his daughter had shed. But…
“Nay,” Noah said finally. “Keep watchin’ him, but daenae bring him in. Nae yet.”
“Why nae?”
“Because if William comes here, Esther will ken about it. She’ll see him or hear about him, or sense somethin’ is wrong.” Noah’s voice was rough. “And I willnae, I cannae, subject her to that. Nae when she’s just startin’ to feel safe. Nae when she’s finally beginnin’ to heal.”
Elliot studied him for a long moment. “Yer heart’s gettin’ soft, Noah.”
“Me heart kens what’s right. William abandoned his daughter.
He lost any claim to her the moment he rode away.
” Noah straightened, rolling up the map with sharp, angry movements.
“If he wants to drink himself to death on the edge of me territory while spreadin’ lies, let him.
As long as he stays away from the castle, away from Esther, he can rot out there for all I care. ”
“And if he doesnae stay away?”
“Then I’ll deal with him.” Noah’s voice carried the weight of absolute certainty. “Permanently.”
Elliot nodded slowly. “I’ll keep the scouts on him. Make sure we ken if he moves.”
“Good. And Elliot? Nay one should tell Esther about this. Or Ava. I daenae want either of them worried.”
“Ava’s goin’ to figure it out eventually. The lass is sharp.”
“Aye, probably. But I’ll tell her meself when the time is right. Nae before.” Noah moved to the window, staring out at the darkening sky. “Is there anythin’ else?”
“Just one thing.” Elliot’s tone shifted. “The entire castle is takin’ bets on when ye’re goin’ to do somethin’ about Miss Harris.”
Noah went very still. “What do ye mean?”
“Ye ken what I mean.”
“It’s nothin’ that concerns any of ye.”
“So ye admit it.”
“I admit she’s…” Noah stopped.
Started again. “She’s under me roof. She’s Esther’s minder. And aye, I’m aware of her. In the way a man is aware of a woman who…” He made a short, frustrated gesture. “It’s desire. That’s all it is. It isnae what the castle seems to think it is.”
Elliot studied him for a long moment, the amusement gone. “Aye,” he said finally, something careful in his voice. “If ye say so.”
“I do say so. Now get out.”
Elliot went, pulling the door shut behind him.
Noah stood at the window until his footsteps faded.
It’s desire. That’s all it is.
He believed that, and he was certain of it—the same way he had been certain the night he stood in her doorway watching her sleep, and every meal he sat through, tracking the exact moment her eyes would meet his across the table.
He rolled up the map and went back to work.
Hours later, after a tedious supper and even more tedious council reports, Noah finally gave up trying to work. His mind kept circling back to William, to Esther, to Ava.
Always to Ava.
He left his study, intending to head to his chambers, but movement in the corridor caught his eye.
Ava was in the corridor past midnight, wearing nothing but a nightgown and a shawl that had slipped off one shoulder. Her hair was loose and unbraided, and her feet were bare on the cold stone floor.
Noah stopped walking.
She hadn’t seen him yet. She was moving slowly. Her expression was far away, and the moonlight coming through the corridor window caught the thin fabric of the nightgown, making him suddenly very aware that there was almost nothing between her and the dark.
Christ.
He should call out to her. Give her a warning. Instead, he stood there for one suspended moment, his jaw tight, doing something he would not have called staring.
“Miss Harris.”
She spun, her hand flying to her chest, the shawl slipping further. “Noah! Ye startled me!”
“Sorry.” He moved closer. “What are ye doin’ up? It’s past midnight.”
“I couldnae sleep.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, not meeting his eyes. “I was just... walkin’. Tryin’ to tire meself out.”
Noah made a decision. “Come with me.”
“What? Where?”
“Somewhere that might help.” He held out his hand. “Trust me?”
Ava stared at his hand for a long moment. Then, slowly, she placed hers in it.
“Aye,” she whispered. “I trust ye.”
Noah led her through the castle, up stairs and down corridors, until they reached a narrow door he had to unlock with a key from his belt.
“Where are we goin’?” Ava asked as they climbed a spiral staircase.
“Ye’ll see.”
The staircase led to the top of the castle’s highest tower. The night air was cool and crisp, and above them, the stars spread across the sky like diamonds scattered on black velvet.
Thousands of them, maybe millions, more than could ever be counted. The moon hung low and full, painting everything in silver light.
“It’s beautiful,” Ava whispered, moving to the edge of the tower. “I’ve never seen so many stars.”
“This is where I come when I need to think,” Noah said quietly. “When the weight of bein’ a laird gets too heavy, I come up here and remember how small I am. How small all of us are.”
Ava turned to look at him, the moonlight painting her face in shades of silver and shadow. “Thank ye. For sharin’ this with me.”
Noah watched her look at the stars. The tilt of her head, the moonlight moving across her face, her lips slightly parted, and he felt the wanting settle in his chest like something permanent.
This is a problem.