CHAPTER 13
The clash of steel rang through the morning air as Baldwin and Roland circled each other in the training yard. Sweat glistened on his brow despite the cool breeze that swept across Glenhaven’s walls. His dark hair, tied back with a leather cord, had come loose during their sparring, and several strands clung to his damp neck.
Beth watched from the edge of the yard, perched on a wooden bench with a small journal balanced on her knee. She’d taken to recording her observations of medieval life, partly as a scientific exercise and partly to maintain her sanity. The leather-bound book Eleanor had gifted her was already half-filled with notes on everything from cooking methods to weapon-making.
“Your mind wanders, my lord,” Roland called, his sword slicing through the air in a graceful arc. “I wonder what, or whom, occupies your thoughts this morn?”
Baldwin parried the blow with a grunt. “Focus on your footwork, Roland. Your left side remains vulnerable.”
Roland laughed, a rich sound that carried across the yard. “Perhaps ’tis your alchemist who distracts you.” He lowered his voice, though not enough to prevent Beth from catching hiswords. “Does she warm your bed as well as your thoughts? The servants say?—”
Baldwin’s sword flashed with sudden ferocity, driving Roland back three steps. “Mind your tongue.”
The knight grinned, undeterred. “She watches you now. See how her eyes follow your every move? ’Tis a waste to keep her at arm’s length when clearly?—”
Taking advantage of Baldwin’s momentary distraction, Roland swept his blade in a low arc, catching Baldwin’s ankle and sending him stumbling.
“First blood to me,” Roland declared triumphantly. “And proof that the lady occupies your thoughts more than you admit.”
Baldwin’s jaw tightened. “She is a guest in my home, nothing more. I have no time for such... distractions.”
Beth’s quill stilled on the page. The words struck like a physical blow, driving the air from her lungs.
A distraction. Nothing more.
She closed her journal with trembling fingers, suddenly eager to be anywhere but here.
As she rose to leave, his gaze caught hers across the yard. For a heartbeat, something vulnerable flickered in those gray eyes, then his expression hardened, and he turned away, raising his sword once more.
“Again,” he commanded Roland, his voice carrying on the wind.
Like a coward, she fled, clutching her journal to her chest like armor.
“He said that?”Eleanor gasped, her eyes widening as she set down her embroidery. “That you were nothing more than a distraction?”
They sat in Eleanor’s solar, a cozy chamber with tapestries depicting hunting scenes adorning the walls. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the narrow windows, casting golden patterns across the rushes strewn on the floor.
Beth paced the length of the room, her green kirtle swishing around her ankles. She’d grown accustomed to medieval clothing, though she still missed the practicality of jeans and sneakers. Her gown was simpler than Eleanor’s own azure blue creation, but the fabric was soft and the fit surprisingly comfortable.
“His exact words.” Beth pushed a strand of brown hair behind her ear. “After days of... I don’t know what to call it. We were growing closer. In the library, he showed me those star charts and our hands touched and he didn’t pull away. Then during the hunt, I thought he might...” She trailed off, cheeks warming at the memory of Baldwin’s intense gaze, his face lowering toward hers before that damned twig snapped.
“And now he treats you like a leper?” Eleanor shook her head, her delicate features hardening with indignation. “My brother has always been stubborn, but this surpasses even his usual foolishness.”
“He says he’s protecting me.” Beth sank onto a cushioned bench. “I don’t understand what changed. One moment he looks at me like...” She swallowed. “And the next, he can barely stand to be in the same room.”
Eleanor’s lips curved into a mischievous smile. “Perhaps he needs a reminder of what he’s denying himself.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sir Gareth arrives today. You recall the young knight who serves Lord Pembroke? He’s quite handsome, and more importantly, my brother despises him.”
Beth frowned. “I’m not going to use someone just to make him jealous. That’s childish.”
“Is it childish to make a man confront his feelings?” Eleanor raised a finely arched eyebrow. “Besides, Sir Gareth knows the game well enough. He enjoys any opportunity to nettle my brother.”
“I don’t know...”
“Consider it an experiment.” Eleanor’s eyes twinkled. “Isn’t that what you scientists do? Test hypotheses?”
