Despite herself, Beth felt a smile tugging at her lips. “That’s a gross oversimplification of the scientific method.”
“But accurate nonetheless.” Eleanor leaned forward, her voice dropping conspiratorially. “If my brother truly cares nothing for you, then your actions tonight will mean nothing to him. But if he does...” She grinned. “Well, that would be a hypothesis worth proving, wouldn’t it?”
Beth sighed, fingering the sleeve of her gown. “Fine. But I’m a terrible actress. Totally awkward. And an even worse flirt.”
Eleanor rose, moving to a large wooden chest in the corner. “Leave that to me. By tonight, every man in the hall will envy Sir Gareth, and my brother will be forced to recognize what stands before him.” She lifted the lid, revealing a shimmer of emerald fabric. “Starting with this gown from France.”
The great hallof Glenhaven blazed with torchlight. Servants moved among the trestle tables, bearing platters of roasted meats, freshly baked bread, and steaming vegetables harvestedfrom the castle gardens. The scent of woodsmoke mingled with the rich aromas of food and the sweeter notes of mead and wine.
Baldwin sat at the high table, fingers drumming restlessly on the polished wood. His black tunic, embroidered with silver thread at the collar and cuffs, made his eyes appear stormy in the flickering light. The silver circlet marking his lordship rested on his brow, a weight he felt keenly tonight.
His gaze swept the hall for the dozenth time, searching for a particular face. When the doors finally opened to admit her, his breath caught in his throat.
Beth entered on Sir Gareth’s arm, her head tilted toward something the knight was saying. She wore a gown of deep emerald that clung to her slender frame before flowing to the floor in graceful folds. Her hair, usually pulled back in a practical style, fell in soft waves past her shoulders, adorned with a simple silver circlet that matched the one at her throat.
She looked... transformed. Not because of the finery, though it suited her well, but because of the easy confidence in her bearing. She laughed at something Gareth said, the sound carrying across the hall, and Baldwin’s fingers tightened around his goblet.
“Your lady looks well tonight,” Roland observed from his place beside Baldwin. “The color suits her.”
“She is not my lady,” Baldwin replied automatically, though his eyes never left her.
“No?” Roland followed his gaze. “Then you won’t mind that Gareth seems quite taken with her.”
Indeed, the young knight was bending close to Beth’s ear, his hand resting lightly on her waist as he guided her to their seats. Baldwin’s jaw clenched as Gareth pulled out Beth’s chair with a flourish, earning another smile from her.
“Sir Gareth is welcome to court whomever he pleases,” Baldwin said stiffly. “Though I question his judgment inpursuing a woman who speaks in riddles and nearly burned down my stables with her experiments.”
Roland chuckled. “Is that what troubles you? Her peculiarities? Or is it that Gareth might actually appreciate them?”
Baldwin shot his friend a withering look, then turned his attention to the trencher before him, tearing a piece of bread with more force than necessary.
Across the hall, she was acutely aware of Baldwin’s gaze, though she carefully avoided meeting it. Instead, she focused on Sir Gareth, a handsome young knight with sandy hair and an easy smile. He was pleasant company, if somewhat dull compared to?—
No. Don’t think about him.
“So you truly mixed these substances and created fire without flint or steel?” Gareth was asking, his eyes wide with admiration. “Remarkable!”
Beth nodded, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s a simple chemical reaction. Um, alchemical, I mean.”
“You must show me sometime,” Gareth said, leaning closer. “I’ve always been fascinated by the mysteries of alchemy.”
Beth doubted that, but she smiled and touched his arm lightly. “Perhaps I will.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw Baldwin’s knuckles whiten around his knife handle. A small, petty part of her rejoiced at the sight.Good. Let him see what he’s dismissing so easily.
She laughed a bit too loudly at Gareth’s next jest, drawing glances from nearby diners. The wine was making her bolder than usual, warming her blood and loosening her tongue. Never in her life had Beth experienced two men interested in her simultaneously, especially not men like these. Gareth with his easy charm and Baldwin with his brooding intensity. It made herfeel powerful. Pretty, even. The novelty of it tingled through her veins, more intoxicating than the wine itself.
“You know,” she said, leaning toward Gareth conspiratorially, “fermentation is actually one of the oldest chemical processes known to humanity. The bubbles in your ale? That’s carbon dioxide being released as yeast consumes sugar.”
Gareth blinked, clearly bewildered, but gamely played along. “Is it indeed? How... fascinating?”
“It is!” Beth warmed to her subject, momentarily forgetting her purpose. “And the same process that makes bread rise. The ancient Egyptians discovered it thousands of years ago, though they didn’t understand the science behind it.”
“You are remarkably learned for a lady,” Gareth observed, recovering his composure. “Though I confess, your beauty distracts me from your wisdom.” He reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips.
Baldwin’s goblet hit the table with a thud that echoed through the hall. Conversation faltered as heads turned toward the high table.
“More wine,” he commanded a nearby servant, his voice carrying in the sudden quiet.
