With a sigh, she pushed back the heavy coverlet and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The stone floor was coldbeneath her bare feet, but she welcomed the sensation. It anchored her to this place, this time.
She reached for the woolen cloak hanging by her bed and wrapped it around her thin chemise, the fabric soft against her skin. Her hair, longer now than she had ever worn it in her own time, hung loose past her shoulders in waves that Eleanor insisted made her look like a “proper lady” rather than the “disheveled scholar” she had been upon her arrival.
Beth smiled at the thought as she slipped from her chamber, intent on a walk to clear her head. The corridor was lit only by the occasional wall sconce, flames dancing in the draft that perpetually haunted the castle’s passages. She moved silently, enjoying the rare stillness of Glenhaven at night.
As she passed Baldwin’s chamber, a soft glow seeped from beneath his door. He was awake, too. She hesitated, her hand half-raised to knock, when she heard his voice. So quiet she might have imagined it, had she not seen his shadow move across the strip of light.
She leaned closer, drawn by the raw emotion in his tone.
“... cannot bear to lose her.”
The words froze her in place, her heart suddenly too large for her chest. She had never heard Baldwin so unguarded, so vulnerable. This was not the stern lord who commanded respect with a glance, nor the careful diplomat who measured every word at court. This was simply a man, afraid of losing something precious.
Before she could consider the wisdom of her actions, Beth pushed the door open just enough to slip inside.
Baldwin knelt by the window, his broad shoulders tense, head bowed as if in prayer. The dying fire cast golden light across the planes of his face, softening the hard angles that intimidated so many. At the sound of the door, he turned sharply, gray eyes widening at the sight of her.
“Beth.” Her name was barely a breath on his lips as he rose to his full height. In the firelight, with his dark hair tousled and his feet bare, he looked younger, more vulnerable.
“You prayed,” she said, her voice unsteady. “And I heard you.”
Baldwin felt exposed,more naked in this moment than if she had found him without a stitch of clothing. He had been caught in an act more intimate than any physical encounter, baring his soul to God and the empty room. Now she stood before him, wrapped in a cloak that couldn’t quite hide the thin chemise beneath, her hair tumbling around her shoulders like a curtain of silk.
“You should not be here,” he said, but there was no force behind the words.
Beth took a step forward, then another, until she stood close enough that he could see the flecks of gold in her green eyes. “I haven’t known peace since I arrived here,” she admitted. “Everything has been confusion and fear and wonder.” A small smile touched her lips. “But I’ve never once felt unwanted.”
Baldwin’s throat tightened. “You were never meant to stay.” The words scraped his throat raw. “Even the stars chart a different course for you.”
“Then I’ll rewrite the stars.”
Something broke inside him at her words, some final wall he had built to protect himself from the inevitable pain of losing her. He reached toward her face, then faltered, his hand hovering in the space between them.
Beth caught his wrist, her touch gentle but insistent as she guided his palm to her cheek. Her skin was warm against his,soft in a way that made his chest ache. “I want to stay,” she whispered.
“For how long?” The question escaped before he could stop it.
“For as long as you’ll have me.”
Baldwin’s thumb traced the curve of her cheekbone, memorizing the feel of her. “Every day without you would be a year,” he confessed, the words torn from somewhere deep inside him.
“Then make a life with me in this one.” Beth stepped closer until he could feel the warmth of her body through the thin layers separating them. “Here. Now.”
“I do not know how to love you without breaking,” Baldwin admitted, his voice rough with emotion he had never allowed himself to show another living soul.
Beth’s smile was radiant, despite the tears that shimmered in her eyes. “Then let’s break together.”
The last of his resistance crumbled. Baldwin drew her to him, one hand cradling the back of her head as his lips found hers. This was a promise, a covenant between them.
Beth’s hands slid up his chest to twine around his neck, her body melting against his as if she belonged there, had always belonged there. Baldwin deepened the kiss, tasting the salt of tears, hers or his, he could not tell, and something sweeter that was uniquely Beth.
When they finally broke apart, both breathless, he rested his forehead against hers. “Stay,” he whispered. Not a command, but a prayer.
“I’m here,” she answered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Outside, the rain fell harder, drumming against the stone walls of Glenhaven. Inside, in the warm circle of Baldwin’s arms,Beth found the peace that had eluded her since she first opened her eyes in this strange, beautiful world.
As Baldwin drew her toward the bed, his eyes never leaving hers, Beth knew with absolute certainty that she had made her choice. The future, her future, was here, with this man who looked at her as if she were more precious than all the knowledge in both their worlds combined.
