Baldwin’s fingers tightened around his goblet. “Eleanor has shown little interest in marriage thus far, Lady Rivers.”
Jacquetta’s lips curved in a knowing smile. “Women often say one thing while their hearts whisper another.” Her gaze drifted to the hall entrance, where a commotion had erupted. “Ah, and who might this be?”
Baldwin turned, dread coiling in his stomach. There, being escorted by a flustered-looking guard, was Beth.
She wore one of the gowns that Eleanor had made for her. Deep blue with silver embroidery at the sleeves, her hair partially tamed into a simple braid. Yet she still moved with thatpeculiar confidence, her chin tilted at an angle that no properly raised medieval woman would dare.
“Forgive the interruption, my lord,” the guard stammered. “The lady insisted she had been summoned.”
Baldwin rose, his chair scraping against the dais. “I gave no such?—”
“I did,” Eleanor interjected smoothly. “I sent word that my companion should join us. For I have been weary, and I thought her presence might lift my spirits.”
Jacquetta’s eyes narrowed with interest. “Your companion? I was not aware you had taken another one.”
Baldwin’s mind raced for a plausible explanation. “A family friend and recent widow,” he said, the lie bitter on his tongue. “She arrived recently to... assist my sister with her studies.”
Beth approached the high table, and Baldwin watched in horror as she attempted a curtsy. Her movement was awkward, unpracticed as she wobbled, caught herself, then inexplicably directed the gesture toward a startled serving man rather than the royal guests.
A titter of laughter rippled through the hall. Baldwin pinched the bridge of his nose, willing the floor to open and swallow him whole.
“How charming,” Jacquetta said, though whether she meant it or was mocking remained unclear. “Come closer, child. Let me look upon you.”
Beth straightened, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and approached the high table. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Rivers?” The last word lilted upward as a question, and Baldwin felt a muscle twitch in his jaw.
Jacquetta studied Beth with the intensity of a hawk eyeing a field mouse. “Your accent is unusual. From where do you hail?”
“I’m from P—” Beth caught herself, glancing at Baldwin. “From far to the west. A small village you wouldn’t have heard of.”
“I have heard of many places,” Jacquetta countered, her smile not reaching her eyes. “And you have the look of one who has traveled far indeed. Perhaps farther than most can imagine.”
A chill ran down Baldwin’s spine. Jacquetta was too perceptive by half.
“Beth assists my sister with her studies of natural philosophy,” Baldwin interjected. “She has some knowledge of herbs and healing.”
“An alchemist, then?” Jacquetta’s interest sharpened visibly. “How fascinating. I myself have studied the properties of substances and the movement of the stars.”
Beth’s eyes lit up with dangerous enthusiasm. “Really? I’d love to discuss the convergence of ecclesiastical and secular influence on early scientific thought with you.”
The hall fell silent. Even the minstrels paused their playing. Baldwin fought the urge to drag Beth bodily from the room.
Elizabeth Woodville leaned forward, her golden hair catching the candlelight as it tumbled in elegant waves over a brocade gown of deep crimson. The heavy fabric shimmered faintly with threads of gold, and her sleeves, long and flowing, were lined with velvet the color of wine. A delicate circlet of pearls rested atop her head, just beneath the sheer veil draped over her shoulders. “What a curious turn of phrase. ‘Scientific.’ Is that a western term?”
Beth’s smile faltered. “It’s... yes. We use it to describe, um, natural philosophy.”
“You must join us later,” Jacquetta decided, her gaze never leaving Beth’s face. “I would hear more of your... western learning.”
Baldwin cleared his throat. “Perhaps tomorrow would be better. Mistress Anderson has been weary after her journey.”
“I’m fine,” Beth countered, then winced as Baldwin’s boot connected firmly with her ankle beneath the table.
“Tomorrow, then,” Jacquetta agreed, though her expression suggested she had already seen more than Baldwin would like. “After the hunt.”
As the meal resumed and Beth was seated further down the table beside Eleanor, Baldwin felt the weight of Jacquetta’s scrutiny.
“She is not what she seems,” Jacquetta of Luxembourg murmured, too low for others to hear.
Baldwin met her gaze steadily. “Few of us are, Lady Rivers.”
