The fire burned low, casting their shadows against the wall as they sealed their bargain with touches and whispers meant only for each other. And when Baldwin finally pulled the coverlet over them both, Beth curled against his side, her head resting on his chest, where she could hear the steady beat of his heart.
“You have bewitched me,” he murmured into her hair, his arm tightening around her.
Beth smiled against his skin. “Not witchcraft,” she corrected sleepily. “Just chemistry.”
Baldwin’s soft laugh rumbled beneath her ear, the last sound she heard before drifting into the first peaceful sleep she had known since arriving in his time.
Outside, the storm gathered strength, lightning flashing in the distance. But neither of them noticed, lost as they were in the shelter they had found in each other’s arms.
CHAPTER 24
Thunder rolled across the heavens, a deep, primal growl that made the stone walls of Glenhaven vibrate beneath Beth’s fingertips. She stood at the narrow window of her workroom, watching dark clouds gather over the lake, swallowing the afternoon light. The air felt heavy, charged, like the moment before a chemical reaction ignites.
Her heart quickened. This wasn’t just any storm.
Her gaze darted to her journal, its pages worn from constant handling. She crossed the room in three quick strides, her simple blue kirtle swishing around her ankles as she flipped through the parchment, finding the passage she’d written months ago.
Lightning, electrical discharge, possibly triggered the portal. Atmospheric conditions similar to those in my lab when...
She traced the words with her finger, a scientist even now, her mind racing through calculations and possibilities.
“What if this is my last chance?” she whispered to the empty room.
Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the wooden shutters. Beth moved with sudden purpose, gathering components she’dbeen collecting ever since she’d arrived in the past. Iron rods, sulfur compound, a small candle, a few other items, and a knife to prick her finger. Her hands trembled as she packed them into a leather satchel.
She pulled Baldwin’s cloak around her shoulders. The deep blue one he’d draped over her that night in the chapel when she’d fallen asleep reading. As she stepped into the corridor, Father Gregory emerged from the shadows, his kind eyes troubled.
“The storm approaches quickly,” he said, glancing at her satchel. “What mischief are you about, child?”
Beth clutched the bag tighter. “I need to test something... with the lightning.”
Understanding dawned in his weathered face. “Would you leave, if you could?”
The question hung between them. Beth looked away, unable to answer.
“Sometimes,” Father Gregory said gently, “God gives us not what we seek, but what we need.”
Beth nodded, her throat tight, and continued down the corridor.
The battlements wereslick with rain by the time Beth reached them. Wind lashed at her face, plastering tendrils of dark hair to her cheeks. Below, the courtyard was deserted, servants and knights alike having sought shelter from the storm.
Perfect. No witnesses.
She set her components on a relatively dry section of covered stone. The iron rod would serve as a conductor. The mixture ofchemicals, primitive yet effective, would create the reaction she needed. Thunder cracked overhead, closer now.
“The electrical discharge should catalyze the copper-blood mixture,” she muttered, falling into the comfort of scientific terminology. “If my hypothesis is correct, the electromagnetic field will temporarily destabilize the temporal barrier...”
Lightning split the sky, illuminating the lake below in stark white. Beth counted. One, two, three, before thunder followed. The storm was nearly overhead.
She positioned the rod, then knelt to prepare the chemical mixture, her fingers quick and sure. Rain soaked through her kirtle, but she barely noticed. This was science, this was certainty in a world where she’d been adrift.
“You would risk your life for a chance to return to your own time?”
The deep voice cut through the storm’s fury. Beth whirled around, nearly upsetting her careful arrangement.
Baldwin stood ten paces away, his broad shoulders tense beneath his sodden tunic. Rain streamed down his face, darkening his hair to black. His gray eyes held no accusation, only a pain so raw it stole her breath.
“Baldwin—” she began, but words failed her.
