“Your face will freeze that way, you know.”
Baldwin turned to find Roland leaning against the doorframe, already dressed in hunting leathers, a half-smile playing on his lips. His sandy hair was combed back from his forehead, and his blue eyes sparkled with mischief.
“I wasn’t aware I’d summoned a jester this morning,” he replied dryly.
Roland stepped into the chamber, helping himself to an apple from Baldwin’s untouched breakfast tray. “No need for summons. Your brooding carries across the castle like thunder.” He took a bite, studying his friend. “This is about your woman, isn’t it?”
Baldwin’s jaw tightened. “Mistress Anderson is not my woman, nor is she an alchemist.”
“No?” Roland raised an eyebrow. “Then why does Lady Rivers seek a private audience with her by moonlight? The whole castle whispers of it.”
Baldwin cursed under his breath. Nothing remained secret at court for long. “Jacquetta’s curiosity is dangerous. Beth doesn’t understand the game she’s being drawn into.”
“Beth, is it?” Roland’s smile widened. “Not ‘Mistress Anderson’? How familiar we’ve become.”
Baldwin shot him a withering look as he shrugged into the green doublet, fastening the silver clasps with more force than necessary. “Have you nothing better to do than irritate me?”
“Not until the hunt begins.” Roland finished his apple and tossed the core out the open window. “Though I wonder? Is it Jacquetta’s interest that troubles you, or that others might claim what you’ve begun to think of as yours?”
Baldwin stilled, his hands frozen at his collar. “She is not mine.”
“Of course not,” Roland agreed, his tone suggesting the opposite. “Which is why you watch her like a hawk, growl at any man who approaches her, and pace the battlements when she’s summoned elsewhere.”
“She is my responsibility,” he insisted, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears.
“As you say.” Roland pushed away from the wall. “The king seemed rather taken with her wit last night. And Edward has a fondness for unusual women.”
The mention of the king’s notorious appetites made Baldwin’s blood run cold, then hot with an emotion he refused to name. His fingers curled into fists at his sides.
“I need you to do something for me,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “Tonight, when Beth meets Jacquetta by the lake. Follow them. Remain unseen, but near enough to intervene if necessary.”
Roland’s teasing smile faded. “You think she means her harm?”
“I think Jacquetta recognizes power when she sees it,” Baldwin replied. “And power recognized is power coveted.”
The lake shimmeredlike polished silver beneath the waning moon, its surface occasionally rippling in the breeze. Beth hugged her arms around herself, wishing she’d brought a heavier cloak. This one was lovely with the embroidered flowers but thin, and the night air carried a chill that penetrated to her bones.
She glanced over her shoulder at the dark outline of Glenhaven Castle, its windows gleaming with candlelight. Baldwin was up there somewhere, probably pacing and cursing her disobedience. The thought brought a small smile to her lips, despite her nervousness.
“You came alone. Good.”
Beth startled, turning to find Jacquetta emerging from the shadows of a willow tree. Lady Rivers wore a gown of midnight blue, so dark it seemed to absorb the moonlight rather than reflect it. A silver chain set with moonstones circled her throat, and her silver hair was bound in braids on either side of her head.
“My lady,” Beth managed, attempting a curtsy that was marginally less awkward than her previous efforts. “You wished to see me?”
Jacquetta’s gaze was penetrating, her eyes dark pools in the dim light. “Walk with me,” she commanded, setting off along the lakeshore.
Beth fell into step beside her, acutely aware of the strange tableau they must present. The royal and the time traveler, strolling beneath the stars like old friends.
“Do you know what I see when I look at you, Mistress Anderson?” Jacquetta asked after a moment of silence.
She swallowed, willing her hands to stop shaking as she grasped her skirts, twisting the material in her fists. “I’m afraid to guess.”
A smile touched Jacquetta’s lips. “I see a woman out of place. A woman carrying knowledge that does not belong to her time.” She paused, studying Beth’s face in the moonlight. “Or perhaps it is she who does not belong to this time.”
Beth’s heart hammered against her ribs. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you?” Jacquetta reached out, her cool fingers brushing Beth’s cheek. “Your speech, your manner, the strange words that fall from your lips when you forget yourself. ‘Science.’ ‘Physics.’ ‘Nobel Prize.’ These are not words of our England, are they?”
