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The courtyard fell silent. Baldwin’s face went still, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he stared at Jacquetta’s hand on Beth’s arm. When had he picked up the goblet he held? It dented slightly beneath the pressure of his fingers.

“Mistress Anderson is under my protection,” he said, each word measured and precise. “I would prefer she remains at Glenhaven.”

Jacquetta’s eyebrows rose. “Is that so? I was not aware she was your prisoner.”

“Not prisoner,” Baldwin countered. “Guest.”

“Then surely the guest may choose where she wishes to go,” Jacquetta pressed, her dark eyes glittering. “Unless there is some other reason you wish to keep her close?”

The implication hung in the air, heavy with suggestion. Baldwin’s knuckles whitened around the goblet.

“I believe,” King Edward interjected, his voice rich with amusement, “that Lord Baldwin has grown fond of his unusual guest. And who could blame him?” His gaze swept over Beth appreciatively. “A woman who brings fire from water is worth keeping, I’d say.”

Laughter rippled through the courtyard. Beth felt heat rise to her cheeks, both from the king’s obvious admiration and from Baldwin’s thunderous expression. The blue flames had died down, leaving only the orange glow of torches to illuminate the growing tension.

“Your Majesty honors me,” Beth managed, attempting to diffuse the situation. “But I’m just a teacher showing simple natural phenomena. Nothing magical or mystical.”

“Teacher,” Cedric repeated, stepping forward from the shadows. “And what exactly do you teach, Mistress Anderson? Certainly not the womanly arts taught in convents.”

His tone made the question an accusation. Several nobles shifted uncomfortably, and Beth saw one or two make the sign of the cross.

Before she could respond, Baldwin moved to stand between her and Cedric, his broad shoulders blocking her from view.

“Mistress Anderson’s knowledge of healing herbs and natural properties has been invaluable to Glenhaven,” he said coldly.

“I would thank you not to question what is not your concern.”

“But it is all our concern,” Cedric replied smoothly, “when strange arts are practiced in the presence of our sovereign. Some might call such displays witchcraft.”

A murmur ran through the crowd. Beth felt the blood drain from her face.

“Enough!” the king’s voice boomed across the courtyard, silencing everyone instantly. He leaned forward in his chair, wine sloshing in his goblet, his face flushed with good humor. “Your envy grows tedious, Cedric. First Glenhaven Castle, now its fair alchemist?”

Laughter rippled through the gathering. Cedric’s face darkened to a mottled crimson.

“Your Grace, I merely?—”

“You merely wish what you cannot have,” the king interrupted, taking another deep draught of wine. “Baldwin keeps the finest castle and now the most intriguing mind in my realm. ’Tis not witchcraft but clever science that entertains us tonight.”

The king gestured expansively toward Beth. “Continue, Mistress Anderson. Show us more of your wonders.”

Baldwin’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though his eyes remained vigilant. Beth caught Jacquetta’s approving nod and Eleanor’s relieved smile.

Cedric retreated, jaw tight with fury, while the courtiers pressed closer, eager for more demonstrations now that royal approval had been granted.

Beth smiled graciously, but felt her fingers trembling as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

The crowd finally dispersed when King Edward called for wine and music, leaving her momentarily alone.

Baldwin materialized at her side like a storm cloud, his cloak swirling around him as he gripped her elbow and steered her toward an alcove behind a tapestry. His face was thunderous, eyes flashing like steel.

“Have you lost your senses?” he finally demanded, turning to face her. “Blue flame? In front of the entire court?”

Beth crossed her arms. “It worked, didn’t it? Jacquetta is intrigued, not suspicious. The king was entertained. I controlled the narrative.”

“And my cousin?” Baldwin challenged. “Did you control his narrative, too? He all but accused you of witchcraft!”

“Cedric is a problem,” Beth admitted. “But running and hiding won’t solve it. I need to show that what I’m doing is natural, not supernatural.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “You don’t understand. One whisper of witchcraft is enough to condemn you. And now Jacquetta wants to take you to court, where you’ll be surrounded by enemies and intrigues you cannot begin to comprehend.”

“I’m not going to court,” Beth said softly. “I’m staying here.”

Something flickered in his eyes, relief, perhaps, or something warmer. “Good,” he said gruffly. “Glenhaven needs you, though we must be careful in how we refuse.”

“Glenhaven?” Beth took a step closer. “Or you?”

Baldwin’s breath caught visibly. In the moonlight, his face was all planes and shadows, his gray eyes darkened to storm-cloud intensity. “I am Glenhaven,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Its needs are mine.”

“And what do you need?” She pressed her heart hammering against her ribs. She was close enough now to see the pulse beating in his throat, to smell the clean scent of soap and leather that clung to him.

His gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes. For a moment, Beth thought he might close the distance between them. Instead, he stepped back, his expression shuttering.

“I need you to be safe,” he said. “And demonstrations like tonight only put you in danger.”

Disappointment washed over her, followed quickly by frustration. “I can take care of myself. I’m not some medieval damsel who needs a knight to protect her virtue and her life.”

“No,” he agreed, his mouth twisting in a bitter smile. “You’re a woman from centuries yet to come, with knowledge that could see you burned as a witch. Forgive me if that concerns me.”

“Worried about me?” Beth challenged, unable to keep the edge from her voice.

Baldwin’s jaw tightened. “Yes,” he admitted, the single word seeming to cost him greatly. “More than is wise.”

The confession hung between them, charged with unspoken meaning. Her anger faltered, replaced by a softer emotion she wasn’t ready to name.

Before she could respond, a page appeared at the gallery entrance. “My lord,” he said, bowing. “The king requests your presence. The hunt departs at dawn tomorrow, and His Grace wishes to discuss the route.”

Baldwin nodded, his expression closing like a door. “Tell His Grace I come directly.” As the page departed, he turned back to Beth. “We will continue this discussion later.”

From the shadows of the courtyard, Cedric watched as the servants cleared away the remnants of Beth’s demonstration. The blue flames had long since died, but their ghostly impression remained in his mind’s eye.

She was dangerous, this strange woman with her foreign knowledge and her hold over Baldwin. But she was also an opportunity. A weapon he could use to bring down the lord of Glenhaven once and for all.

“Impressive display, was it not?” Sir Barnaby Skeffington, Cedric’s cousin, sidled up beside him. “Though some might call it unnatural.”

Cedric smiled slowly. “Oh, it was unnatural indeed. She can bring fire without flint, speak with queens, interest the king, and beguile Baldwin.” His fingers traced the hilt of his dagger. “All the justification I’ll need.”

“For what?” Barnaby asked, his eyes narrowing.

Cedric’s smile widened, cold and calculating in the torchlight. “Why, to save Glenhaven from the witch in its midst, of course. And if Baldwin falls defending her...” He shrugged. “Then the king will need a new lord for these lands.”

As he turned away, Cedric’s gaze lifted to the gallery where Baldwin and Beth had disappeared. The hunt tomorrow would provide the perfect opportunity. In the chaos of hooves and horns, accidents happened all the time.

And he would be there to ensure they did.