Beth remained silent, unsure how much to reveal. Jacquetta seemed more curious than hostile, but Baldwin’s warnings echoed in her mind.
“I have studied the stars all my life,” Jacquetta continued, her voice soft. “I have read the ancient texts, traced the paths of planets, mixed potions that can heal or harm. But you—” Her eyes gleamed. “You speak of such things with the casual certainty of one who has seen them proved.”
“Where I come from,” Beth said carefully, “natural philosophy is... more advanced.”
“Where you come from,” Jacquetta repeated. “And where might that be, truly? Not the west, I think.”
It was now or never, and something told her this woman would see a lie. Beth took a deep breath. “Would you believe me if I said I came from the future?”
The words hung in the night air, dangerous and irrevocable. Jacquetta’s expression remained unreadable for a long moment. Then, to Beth’s surprise, her eyes lit with a fierce, hungry light.
“I knew it,” she breathed, gripping Beth’s wrist. “I sensed it the moment I saw you.” Her fingers tightened. “Tell me, will my Elizabeth keep her crown? Will her son’s rule after Edward?”
This was dangerous ground. What if she totally changed history? Beth swallowed hard and settled upon a little bit of what was to come without giving away too much. “Your daughter will have more children,” she offered carefully. “Eight more, including three boys.”
She didn’t notice the shadow that detached itself from the trees and followed at a discreet distance, nor the way Roland’s eyes narrowed as he watched the two women deep in conversation.
Jacquetta leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And these boys? They will be strong? They will survive?”
Beth felt cold despite the summer night. Images from history books flashed through her mind. Two pale princes, locked in the Tower, vanishing from the pages of history. She opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat.
“My lady,” she began, “I cannot?—”
“Cannot? Or will not?” Jacquetta’s eyes narrowed.
“Some knowledge is dangerous,” Beth said softly. “Some futures are better left?—”
The door behind them creaked open. A young boy stood there, nervous as he looked between them. Beth wanted to hug the kid.
“The king requests your presence, Lady Rivers,” he said.
Jacquetta straightened, composing herself with the ease of long practice. “We shall continue our conversation anon,” she murmured to Beth, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
For a while, she simply walked along the banks, wondering what she would say if she were pressed again about the future. She had revealed too much, perhaps, but there was no undoing it now.
The followingafternoon found Beth in the castle’s herb garden, carefully selecting ingredients for what she hoped would be a controlled demonstration. She had spent the morning rifling through the castle’s stores, finding copper sulfate among the alchemical supplies and vinegar in the kitchens. Now she needed something that would burn with a colorful flame, something impressive but not frightening.
She wore a simple gown, a deep rust color that complemented her dark hair, which was loosely braided and pinned at the nape of her neck. The garden smelled of lavender and rosemary, with hints of thyme and mint carried on the warm summer breeze.
“Planning another of your strange experiments?”
Beth looked up to find Cedric watching her from the garden entrance. His thin lips curved in a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He was dressed for court in a doublet of burgundy brocade, his dark hair slicked back from his forehead. He’d arrived yesterday with a small retinue after hearing the kingwas making his royal progress through the northern counties. Within a se’nnight of the news spreading, nobles from across the region had descended upon Glenhaven like ravens to carrion, each eager to curry royal favor.
Something about the man’s posture, the casual way he leaned against the stone archway, made her skin prickle with unease.
“Just gathering herbs,” she replied, straightening. “For Eleanor’s headache remedy.”
Cedric’s gaze flicked to the basket at her feet, which contained decidedly more than headache herbs.
“How dedicated you are to your mistress’s comfort. Though I hear you’ve found favor with an even higher lady now.”
She forced a neutral expression. “Lady Rivers has been kind.”
“Indeed.” Cedric stepped closer, his boots crushing thyme beneath his heels.
“The Duchess of Bedford has a keen interest in the unusual. Particularly those with... special talents.” His eyes glittered. “They say she dabbles in witchcraft herself.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Beth said, edging away.
