“Ye need to leave,” Ava said, her voice gentler now but no less firm. “Ye’re frightenin’ her. Come back tomorrow when she’s had time to calm down.”
“I’m nae leavin’ without me, niece.” Noah took another step forward, and Ava moved to block him more fully. “Get out of me way, lass. I’m warnin’ ye.”
“Or what? Ye’ll throw me in yer dungeons?” she said mockingly, as if the very idea was absurd.
Noah’s eyes darkened as he slowly closed the gap between them, deliberately moving at a measured pace until he was close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.
He was a full head taller, broader by half, and he used every inch of it. “I daenae ken about dungeons,” he said, his voice dropping low, intimate despite the threat. “But I could pick ye up and move ye meself if ye keep interferin’. Quite easily, in fact.”
Ava’s breath caught audibly, her eyes widening. “Ye wouldnae dare!”
“Wouldnae I?”
Noah let his gaze drop deliberately to where she barely came up to his shoulder, then back to her face. Close enough now that he could see the pulse hammering at her throat, could smell whatever soap she used—something clean and simple.
“Ye’re a wee thing, lass. I’ve moved hay bales heavier than ye.”
Her cheeks flushed pink, whether from outrage or something else, he couldn’t tell.
“That’s… Ye cannae just?—”
“Try me,” Noah said softly, and watched her pupils dilate.
For a heartbeat, they stood frozen, the air between them charged with something that had nothing to do with Esther and everything to do with the way Ava’s breath had gone shallow, and how neither of them was backing down.
Then, from behind Ava, came a small, trembling voice.
“D-daenae.”
Noah’s eyes flicked past Ava to where Esther stood, no longer hiding behind the chair but gripping its back with both hands. Her face was still pale, her eyes still frightened, but her jaw was clenched with determination that looked far too familiar.
“What did ye say, lass?” he asked, his voice unconsciously softening.
“D-daenae hurt her.” Esther’s words came out in a stutter, hesitant, as if each one cost her something. But she said them anyway. “P-please, Uncle Noah. D-daenae hurt Ava.”
“I’m nae goin’ to hurt anyone, Esther.”
The change in his voice was instant. The sharpness that had been there moments before softened into something gentler.
Ava’s eyes snapped to his face, startled. She watched as the harsh lines around his mouth eased, as his broad shoulders lost some of their rigid tension.
He kept his gaze fixed on his niece, but Ava could see it now, the careful way he held himself, like he was afraid one wrong move would shatter the fragile moment.
This was a man who cared. Deeply.
The realization struck her harder than she expected.
“I just want to take ye home.”
“I…” Esther’s voice cracked. “I want Ava t-to come.”
“What?”
“If...” She swallowed hard, her small throat working. “If I g-go, I want Ava to come, t-too.”
Noah looked from his niece to the woman who’d been watching over her. Ava appeared just as surprised, her mouth slightly parted.
“Sweetheart...” Ava said gently, turning to crouch beside Esther. “I cannae just leave the orphanage. The children here need me.”
