His jaw tightened. “I do what needs to be done.”
“Mm-hmm.” Ava stirred the porridge with perhaps more vigor than necessary, fighting a smile. “Terribly practical of ye. Like I said. More carin’ than ye look.”
She could sense him watching her, likely trying to determine if she was mocking him or not. The silence lingered so long that she was about to apologize when?—
“Uncle Noah?”
They both turned to see Esther standing in the doorway, rubbing her eyes with a small fist. Her dark hair was a tangled mess around her face, and she looked so young and vulnerable that Ava’s heart squeezed.
“Good mornin’, lass,” Noah said warmly, his voice softening. “Did ye sleep well?”
Esther nodded, then padded over to Ava and wrapped her arms around Ava’s waist from behind.
“Well, good mornin’ to ye too, wee one.” Ava reached down to pat Esther’s head, careful not to spill the porridge she was still stirring. “Breakfast is almost ready. Why daenae ye sit down?”
Esther reluctantly let go of her hold and sat down in one of the two chairs at Ava’s small table. Noah took the other seat, and Ava was struck by how absurd the scene was—this towering laird crammed into her rickety kitchen chair like some giant child.
She served them both—porridge with a drizzle of honey she’d been saving, thick slices of toasted bread, and eggs that were only slightly burnt around the edges. It wasn’t fancy, but it was hearty and warm, and it was the best she could do with what she had.
“This is good,” Noah said after his first bite, sounding almost surprised.
“Ye sound shocked that I can cook,” Ava observed, settling into her own seat with her portion.
She’d given them the larger servings, keeping just enough for herself, a habit she’d developed from too many lean times.
“I didnae mean...” He paused. “I just meant it’s well-prepared. Thank ye.”
Was that actual gratitude in his voice? Wonders never ceased.
“How do ye like it, Esther?” Ava asked, watching the girl carefully.
Esther smiled around a mouthful of porridge and gave an enthusiastic nod.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Ava found herself observing them both—how Noah kept glancing at his niece as if reassuring himself she was really there, and how Esther seemed to be relaxing more and more in her uncle’s presence.
This could work, she realized. The three of them at Castle MacGregor. Esther could have stability and proper care. Noah could learn to connect with his niece rather than just provide for her from a distance. And Ava... well, Ava could make enough money to actually help the orphanage instead of just keeping it limping along.
It was practical. Sensible.
So why did her chest feel so tight as she watched Noah reach over to wipe a smear of honey from Esther’s cheek, his large hand impossibly gentle?
This is what it could be like,a traitorous voice whispered in her mind.A family. A child to care for. A man who comes home to ye, who chops wood so ye’ll be warm, who sits at yer table and thanks ye for the meal.
Ava’s throat went tight.
This wasn’t her family. Noah wasn’t her husband. And even if he were interested in someone like her—which he certainly wasn’t, because she was common-born, poor, and completely unsuitable for a laird—she knew better than to hope for things that could never be.
Her father had made sure she understood her place in the world. Had made sure she knew that girls like her didn’t get fairy tale endings.
“Miss Harris? Are ye all right?”
Ava blinked and realized both Noah and Esther were staring at her with concern.
“Aye, sorry. Just... thinkin’ about everythin’ I need to do today.” She forced a bright smile. “I need to go to the tavern and tellthem I’m leavin’, and then there’s the orphanage to sort out, and?—”
“I’ll come with ye,” Noah interrupted.
“What? Nay, ye daenae have to.”
