Chapter 17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
“How often do ye come up here?”
Ava’s voice was soft, reverent almost, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the beauty of the moment.
Above them, the stars wheeled in their eternal dance, and below, the castle grounds stretched out in moonlit silence.
“Every night, usually.” Noah moved to stand beside her at the tower’s edge, his hands resting on the stone battlements. “After everyone’s abed, when the castle is quiet. I come up here to think. To breathe.”
“It must be lonely,” Ava observed. “Carryin’ all those responsibilities by yerself.”
“Aye, sometimes.” Noah’s profile was sharp in the moonlight, all strong lines and shadows. “But it’s the price of leadership. A laird cannae afford to show weakness, cannae afford to let others see when he’s strugglin’. So I come here instead, where nay one can see.”
“I can see,” Ava pointed out gently.
Noah turned to look at her, something unreadable in his dark eyes. “Aye. Ye can.”
The moment stretched between them, heavy with meaning, but Ava wasn’t quite ready to analyze it. She looked away first, focusing on the stars.
“Tell me about a stressful day,” she said. “That would bring ye up here.”
“Council disputes. Border concerns. Trade agreements that fall through.” Noah sighed. “The constant weight of knowin’ that every decision I make affects hundreds of people. That one wrong choice could mean death or hardship for those who depend on me.”
“That’s a heavy burden.”
“It’s the burden I was born to carry,” he said matter-of-factly, without self-pity. “Me father prepared me for it from childhood. Told me that a MacGregor Laird puts his clan before everythin’ else. Before personal desires, before happiness, before—” He cut himself off.
“Before what?”
“Before love,” Noah finished quietly. “He said love makes men weak. It causes them to choose poorly, puttin’ individuals before the good of the many.”
Ava’s chest tightened. “And do ye believe that?”
“I used to.” Noah’s gaze was distant now, focused on something she couldn’t see. “But then Esther came, and I realized that carin’ for one person, protectin’ one person, doesnae make ye weaker. Sometimes it makes ye stronger. Gives ye somethin’ worth fightin’ for.”
Ava took a breath, gathering her courage.
“Then why daenae ye spend more time with her?”
Noah’s head turned sharply. “What?”
“With Esther. Ye care for her; that much is obvious to anyone with eyes. But ye barely speak to her outside of meals. Ye daenae join us for lessons or walks in the garden. Ye keep yer distance.” Ava’s voice was gentle but persistent. “Why?”
Noah’s jaw clenched. “It’s complicated.”
“Is it? Or are ye just afraid?”
“I’m nae afraid of anythin’,” Noah said, but there was no conviction in his voice.
“Everyone’s afraid of somethin’.” Ava moved closer, close enough to see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands gripped the stone. “Talk to me, Noah. Help me understand.”
For a long moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer.
“I daenae ken how to talk to her,” he admitted, his voice rough.
“I daenae ken how to communicate with a child who’s been hurt the way she has.
Every time I try, I feel like I’m sayin’ the wrong thing, doin’ the wrong thing.
Like I’m goin’ to damage her more with me clumsy words and lack of. .. of gentleness.”
Ava’s heart ached at the raw vulnerability in his voice. “Noah.”
“Me brother did enough damage already. Beat her for stutterin’, made her feel worthless, abandoned her when she became inconvenient.” Noah’s hands clenched into fists. “I cannae add to that. Better to keep me distance than to hurt her with me ignorance.”
“That’s the fear talkin’,” Ava said softly. “The fear that ye’ll fail her the way William did. But Noah, ye’re nothin’ like yer brother.”
“How do ye ken that?” Noah turned to face her fully, and the anguish in his eyes nearly broke her. “How do ye ken I willnae say somethin’ cruel without meanin’ to? That I willnae make her feel small or stupid or unwanted?”
“Because ye care.” Ava reached out, her hand covering his clenched fist. “Because ye’re worried about hurtin’ her. William never worried about that; he just did it, again and again, because he didnae care. But ye? Ye care so much it terrifies ye. And that’s exactly why ye willnae hurt her.”
Noah stared down at their joined hands. “I daenae ken what to say to her. What to talk about. She’s so small, so fragile.”
“She’s stronger than ye think. And she doesnae need ye to be perfect.” Ava squeezed his hand gently. “She just needs ye to be there. To show up. To let her see that ye care about her, that ye’re nae goin’ to leave her.”
“I would never.”
“I ken that. But does she?” Ava’s voice was gentle but insistent. “Have ye told her? Have ye spent time with her, shown her through yer actions that she matters to ye? Or have ye kept yer distance and hoped she’d somehow just... ken?”
Noah’s throat worked. “I daenae want to make things worse.”
“Then let me help ye make them better.” Ava moved closer, looking up at him earnestly.
“I’ll teach ye how to talk to her, how to connect with her.
We’ll do it together. I’ll be there to guide ye, to step in if things get difficult.
But Noah, she needs her uncle. She needs to ken that she has family who loves her. ”
“I daenae ken if I can.”
“Ye can.” Ava’s voice was firm. “I’ve seen ye lead men into battle formations on a chessboard. I’ve seen ye command respect from every person in this castle. I’ve seen ye face down bandits without flinchin’. Ye can do this too. Ye just have to try.”
Noah looked at her for a long moment, something shifting in his expression. “Why are ye doin’ this? Goin’ so far to help me connect with Esther?”
Because of Esther. Because that child deserves better. Because I ken what it is to grow up feelin’ like a burden and I willnae let her feel that way if I can help it.
That was true. All of it was true.
But Noah was still watching her, waiting, and something made her pause on the truth she’d just put together so neatly. She turned it over, examined it because it was complete, and it was honest, but it still didn’t feel like the whole story.
Why are ye so determined?
Ye’ve gone further than the job asks. Further than Esther needs. Stayed longer in rooms ye had no reason to stay in. Pushed harder than any minder would push.
She didn’t have an answer for that.
“Because...” she said instead, her voice thick with emotion. “I daenae want Esther to have a childhood like mine. To be unwanted, abandoned, and lonely.”
The words hung in the air between them. Noah’s expression transformed from vulnerable to furious in a heartbeat.
“Yer father,” he growled. “Tell me his name, Ava. Tell me where to find him.”
“It doesnae matter.”
“It matters to me!” Noah’s voice rose, echoing off the stones. “It matters that someone hurt ye. That someone made ye feel unwanted and abandoned. That someone...” He stopped, his chest heaving. “Tell me his name.”
“Why?” Ava’s own anger flared. “So ye can ride out and punish him? Make yerself feel better about somethin’ that happened years ago? It’s done, Noah. It’s in the past. It doesnae matter.”
“It matters to me.” The words came out low and furious. “It matters that someone put their hands on ye. That someone made ye believe ye were worthless, made ye walk around this castle like ye’re waitin’ to be thrown out, like ye daenae deserve to take up space.”
“I...”
He stepped closer, his jaw tight. “Ye’re nae unwanted, Ava. Nay matter what he made ye believe.”
“Ye daenae ken what ye’re talkin’ about.”
“Then tell me I’m wrong.” His eyes were burning. “Tell me ye daenae still believe it or think about it. That ye daenae still hear his voice every time somethin’ good happens to ye, tellin’ ye it willnae last. That ye’re nae standin’ here right now waitin’ for me to prove him right.”
Ava’s throat closed. She couldn’t.
“Aye,” Noah said, quiet and fierce. “That’s what I thought.”
His hands lifted to her shoulders, gently holding her in place. Something in his expression cracked open in a way she had never seen from him before.
“I want ye.” The words slipped out like they had been yanked from some place he hadn’t meant to open.
“That’s what I should have said. Nae that ye’re worthy of bein’ cared for.
I want ye. I’ve wanted ye since that first night in the cottage, and I’ve been tryin’ to talk meself out of it ever since, and I cannae. ”
His grip on her shoulders tightened slightly. “So nae, it isnae in the past. And nae, it doesnae matter, except that someone made ye think ye’re less than what ye are, and I cannae...” His jaw worked. “I cannae stand it.”
He stepped closer, the heat of his body cutting through the night’s chill before he even touched her.
And then his mouth was on hers.
This kiss was different from the first one. That had been rough, driven by frustration and desire. This one was... more. Deeper.
His lips moved against hers with a tenderness that made her chest ache, one hand sliding up to cup her face while the other remained on her shoulder, anchoring her.
Ava gasped against his mouth, and Noah took advantage, deepening the kiss. His tongue swept against hers, and heat flooded through her body like wildfire.
Her hands came up to grip his shirt, holding on as her knees threatened to give out.
“Ye’re nae unwanted.”
A laugh had bubbled up before she could stop it, sharp and disbelieving.
“Prove it,” she snapped, expecting him to back down, to shrug it off with that infuriating half-smirk of his.
But he didn’t.
The wind carried the scent of heather from the moors, along with the faint mineral tang of the nearby river. She took a deep breath, the cool air filling her lungs and steadying her. Noah looked at her, his shadow sharp against the starlight, and she realized just how truly alone they were.