Anticipation moved through her, quiet and unbidden.
Thatwas the part she didn’t know what to do with.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Me Laird! Ye’re back!”
The shout came from the courtyard as they rode through the castle gates. Noah dismounted from Shadow, his injured arm protesting the movement, though he kept his expression neutral.
Around him, servants and guards gathered, relief evident on their faces.
“Is that... is that wee Esther?” someone called out.
“Aye, she’s safe,” Noah confirmed, moving toward the carriage. “Fetch the healer to me chambers. And someone stable Shadow, he’s had a hard ride.”
“Right away, me Laird!”
Noah opened the carriage door himself, offering his good hand to help Ava down. She took it with a slight blush, and Noah noticed. He observed it the way he’d been noticing too many things about her since the forest road—the warmth in her cheeks, the way her eyes avoided his, and the fact that her hand fit in his as naturally as if it had no business fitting anywhere else.
Stop it.
He had a courtyard full of people watching him, an arm that needed stitching, and a clan that had spent three days in disruption because of one lost child. He did not have time to stand here cataloguing the colour of her blush.
The irritation that moved through him was directed entirely at himself.
He turned to lift Esther out instead.
“Welcome home, lass,” Noah said softly to his niece. “I?—”
“Esther!”
The sharp voice cut through the courtyard like a blade. Noah’s jaw clenched as he recognized it.
Margaret, Esther’s nanny, hurried across the cobblestones, her face flushed and her expression furious.
She’d been released from the dungeons that morning and apparently wasted no time inserting herself back into matters that no longer concerned her.
“Where have ye been?” Margaret demanded, charging at them like a charging bull. “Do ye have any idea what ye’ve put us through? Three days of searchin’, and for what? Because ye couldnae stay where ye were told?”
Esther’s face drained of color. She backed away quickly, her small body shaking, and immediately huddled behind Ava’s skirts.
Noah felt fury ignite in his chest. He opened his mouth to intervene, to tell Margaret exactly what he thought of her approach, but?—
“How dare ye.”
Ava’s voice echoed across the courtyard, cold as winter steel and twice as sharp. She stepped forward, intentionally placing herself between Margaret and Esther, her green eyes blazing with a fury that made the older woman stop in her tracks.
“How dare ye speak to her like that?” Ava continued, her voice shaking with barely controlled rage. “A child who’s been lost and frightened for days, and the first thing ye do is scold her?”
“I… Who do ye think ye are to talk to me that way!” Margaret said, her face reddening.
“I’m someone who actually cares about this child’s wellbein’!” Ava’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Ye want to talk about what’s happened? Let’s talk about how ye lost track of an eight-year-old lass! How ye were so irresponsible that she wandered off under yer watch!”
“The child is willful! She doesnae listen, she doesnae speak when spoken to.”
“She’s traumatized!” Ava’s voice cracked like a whip. “And maybe if ye’d spent more time carin’ for her and less time makin’ excuses, she wouldnae have wandered off in the first place!”
Noah watched intently. He had been about to step in and take charge as Laird, but Ava’s fury was incredible. Every word landed like a blow, and Margaret was actually backing away under the attack.
