“I’ll come with ye,” he repeated, in that tone that brooked no argument. “Ye’ll need help carryin’ yer things. And if this tavern master of yers gives ye any trouble about leavin’, it’ll be useful to have a laird there.”
Ava wanted to argue that she could handle it herself and didn’t need his help or protection. But the truth was, Malcolm at the tavernwouldprobably give her trouble. He always did when people quit.
“Fine,” she conceded. “But ye’re to let me handle it first. Only step in if I actually need ye.”
“Agreed.” Noah stood and collected the empty dishes. “And I’ll wash up. Ye cooked.”
Ava stared at him as she opened her mouth to protest. “Ye... what?”
“I said I’ll wash the dishes.” He was already carrying them to the basin. “It’s only fair.”
Who is this man, and what has he done with the scowlin’ brute from yesterday?
Esther giggled, a true bubbling sound, at Ava’s dumbfounded expression.
And despite all her warnings to herself, despite knowing better, Ava felt her foolish heart do something dangerously soft.
This was going to be a problem.
A very big problem indeed.
CHAPTER SIX
Noah plunged another dish into the wash basin, watching out of the corner of his eye as Ava bustled around the small kitchen, muttering to herself about everything she needed to accomplish that day.
She was... unexpected.
That was the word that kept circling through his mind. Unexpected.
He’d expected a simple village lass who’d be grateful for the chance to work at the castle. Instead, he’d gotten a woman who argued with him at every turn, who stood up to him without flinching, who’d literally positioned herself between him and Esther, as if she could somehow stop him if he meant harm.
It was infuriating.
It was also refreshing. Most people in his life either feared him or wanted something from him. The council members who constantly pushed for political marriages. The warriors who sought his approval. The servants who scurried out of his way with their eyes downcast.
But Ava? Ava looked him straight in the eye and told him he was a bastard. Called him out when she thought he was wrong. Didn’t seem to care one whit that he was a laird.
“—and then I’ll need to speak with Mrs. Crawford about who can take over me volunteer shifts, though Lord knows Agnes has been wantin’ more responsibility, so perhaps... are ye even listenin’ to me?”
Noah blinked.
Ava stood with her hands on her hips, one brow raised in defiance. Even when irritated, there was something magnetic about her—the way her green eyes flashed, the defiant set of her jaw, the wisps of hair slipping from her braid to frame her face.
“Ye were talkin’ about Agnes,” he said mildly, dragging his attention back to the dishes.
“I was talkin’ about Agnes five minutes ago! Just now I was askin’ if ye thought Esther needed new shoes before we leave!”
He looked down at his niece, who was sitting on the floor, playing with what seemed to be a collection of smooth stones. Her shoes were worn but still usable.
“She’s fine for now. We’ll have the cobbler at the castle make her new ones when we arrive.”
“Ye have a cobbler at the castle?” Ava blinked. “I suppose ye probably have everythin’ at the castle.”
“Nae everythin’.” Noah dried the last plate and set it aside. “But enough to be self-sufficient, aye.”
Ava shook her head, going back to her muttering and list-making.
Noah found himself watching the way she moved—quick and efficient, like someone used to getting a lot done in a short time. She kept shoving escaped hair back impatiently, her brow furrowed in concentration as she mentally catalogued everything that needed to be done.
