Page 19

J acquetta of Luxembourg, mother to the Queen of England, walked alongside her daughter by the shimmering waters of the lake.

The morning mist still clung to the surface, though the summer sun had risen high enough to warm their shoulders.

Her crimson velvet gown rustled against the dewy grass, its sleeves trimmed with ermine and gold thread that caught the light.

Around her neck hung a heavy pendant of polished amber, and her fingers glittered with rings set with rubies and pearls as she gestured toward the castle.

“The air here is sweet,” Jacquetta remarked, her accent still carrying traces of her homeland despite decades in England. “I can see why Edward was eager to visit. Though I suspect it had more to do with the hunting than the scenery.”

Her daughter smiled, her golden hair gleaming in the sunlight. She paused to rest a hand against the trunk of an ancient oak tree. “Baldwin has been a loyal subject. Edward enjoys rewarding those who serve him well.”

She studied her daughter’s face, her keen eyes missing nothing. “You are with child again.”

Elizabeth’s hand flew to her stomach. “Mother! How did you—” Her sapphire blue gown rustled with the sudden movement, its velvet bodice adorned with delicate silver embroidery that caught the afternoon light.

The queen’s slender fingers, weighted with gold rings set with emeralds and rubies, pressed against the rich fabric as if to protect the secret within.

Her golden hair was braided down her back, and around her neck hung a heavy gold pendant bearing Edward’s insignia.

“I knew before you did,” Jacquetta said with a small smile. “A mother always knows. And I have other ways of knowing things, as you well remember.”

Elizabeth glanced around to ensure they were alone. “I have not even told Edward yet.”

“You should tell him today. ’Twill be good luck that you conceived while visiting Glenhaven. The child will be strong.” Jacquetta bent to pick a small white flower growing near the water’s edge. “You will have seven more children after this one.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Seven! Mother, you jest. I already have my two boys and my two girls from Edward.” She touched her stomach. “And this one, hopefully a son.”

“I do not jest about such matters.” Jacquetta tucked the flower into her daughter’s hair. “Your line will be strong, though not without its trials.”

They walked in silence for a moment, the hem of their gowns brushing through the dewy grass.

“What think you of Baldwin’s strange guest?” Elizabeth asked.

“The woman called Beth?” Jacquetta’s expression remained carefully neutral. “She is... unusual.”

“Father Gregory says she has knowledge of herbs and healing. Perhaps she could be useful at court.”

Jacquetta raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps. Though I wonder if she would flourish there as well as she does here.” She paused, looking back toward Glenhaven Castle. “Some flowers bloom best in their own soil.”

“You speak in riddles again, Mother.”

“Do I?” Jacquetta smiled. “I merely observe that Baldwin seems quite taken with her, though he tries to hide it. And she with him.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Truly? I had not noticed.”

“You have been distracted with your own concerns. But I have seen how they look at each other when they think no one watches.” Jacquetta’s gaze grew distant. “There is something about her that reminds me of... well, it matters not. But I believe we should invite them both to court. Soon.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I shall speak to Edward about it.” She placed a hand on her still-flat stomach. “I should tell him about the child now. He will be pleased.”

“Yes,” Jacquetta agreed. “And I suspect he will wish to return to London sooner rather than later, once he knows.”

Edward IV, King of England, sat at the high table in Glenhaven’s great hall, tearing into a joint of venison with evident pleasure.

He drank deeply from his goblet, youth and vitality evident in every movement as wine glistened briefly on his lips before he wiped them clean with a practiced gesture.

“Magnificent hunt yesterday, Baldwin!” he boomed. “I’ve not seen such fine deer since we rode in the royal forests at Windsor.”

Baldwin inclined his head. “Your Grace honors me. Glenhaven’s forests have always been blessed with abundant game.”

Beth sat further down the table, watching the interaction with fascination. She still couldn’t quite believe she was dining with a king. An actual fifteenth-century king who would father the princes that would later disappear in the Tower, presumably murdered by their uncle Richard.

The knowledge sat heavy in her chest. Should she warn them?

Could she? The faces around her weren’t historical figures anymore, but real people with beating hearts and futures she could alter with a few words.

If she prevented Richard’s rise to power, what else would change?

Elizabeth might never come to power. How many lives?

How many deaths? History would unravel like a poorly knitted sweater, leaving nothing but chaos in its wake.

Her gaze lingered on the royal couple. Elizabeth Woodville’s beauty was legendary, but seeing it in person made Beth’s breath catch.

The White Queen radiated quiet power beside her husband.

These weren’t just names in history books anymore.

Their children would vanish, their dynasty would fall, and here she sat, breaking bread with them, the only person who knew what was to come.

Later that evening, Elizabeth dismissed her ladies with a wave of her hand, her heart fluttering beneath her ribs like a caged bird.

The chamber assigned to them at Glenhaven was much smaller than their royal apartments but comfortable, with tapestries warming the stone walls and a fire crackling in the hearth.

Edward stood by the window, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the night sky. He’d removed his heavy court garments, and in his linen shirt, he looked almost like the young knight who’d stolen her heart years ago rather than the King of England.

“Husband,” she called softly.

He turned, his face softening, as it always did when they were alone. “Wife,” he answered, crossing the room to take her hands. “You’ve been quiet this eve.”

Elizabeth drew a steadying breath. She’d suspected for a fortnight now, but Jacquetta had confirmed it during their walk by the lake that afternoon.

“I carry your child,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Another York prince grows beneath my heart.”

She watched his face transform. First confusion, then comprehension dawning, like the sun breaking through clouds. His eyes widened before a broad smile split his beard.

“By Saint George!” Edward exclaimed, pulling her into his arms with such force that her feet left the rushes. His embrace was crushing, yet she laughed against his chest, breathing in his scent of leather and spice. “Another prince for England!”

When he set her down, his hand rested on her still-flat stomach with surprising tenderness. “We must return to London,” he said, his voice rumbling through her. “You must not travel in your condition once the babe quickens.”

Elizabeth nodded, though she felt a pang at cutting their progress short. “We depart on the morrow?”

“Aye.” Edward kissed her forehead. “I’ll announce it in the morn.”

As he pulled her toward their bed, Elizabeth smiled. Seven more children after this one, her mother had predicted. Perhaps this one would be a son, with Edward’s golden hair and her own determined spirit.

The courtyard bustled with activity as servants loaded trunks onto carts and stableboys prepared the royal horses. Knights in polished armor formed an honor guard, their pennants fluttering in the morning breeze.

Beth stood beside Eleanor, watching the organized chaos with wonder.

“Sir William seems quite taken with you,” Beth murmured to Eleanor, nodding toward a young knight who kept glancing in their direction.

Eleanor blushed prettily. “He is kind. He says he hopes I might visit court someday, so he might show me the Tower and the royal menagerie.”

“The Tower?” Beth suppressed a shudder, thinking of all the heads that would eventually roll there.

“’Tis a splendid palace as well as a fortress,” Eleanor explained. “Though I confess, I am more interested in seeing the lions they keep there.”

Before Beth could respond, a herald blew a trumpet, announcing the king and queen’s arrival in the courtyard. Edward looked magnificent in his traveling clothes, with a heavy gold chain around his neck and a jeweled dagger at his hip. Elizabeth glided alongside him, a smile on her face.

Baldwin stepped forward and knelt before his king. “Your Grace, Glenhaven has been honored by your presence.”

“Rise.” Edward’s voice carried across the courtyard.

“You have served us well, both on the battlefield and as our host.” He gestured to a scroll being held by a royal secretary.

“We are pleased to grant you the lands to the south that once belonged to the traitor Lord Ashwick. You will be a better steward than he.”

Baldwin’s face remained composed, but Beth saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes. “Your Grace is most generous. I shall serve as faithfully in this as in all things.”

“See that you do.” Edward clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to stagger a smaller man. “We should like to see you at court soon.”

Elizabeth stepped forward, her gaze finding Beth. “Mistress, please approach.”

Heart hammering, Beth moved forward and dipped into her best attempt at a curtsy, praying she wouldn’t topple over.

The queen smiled. “Your knowledge of herbs and healing has impressed us.” She removed a ring from her finger, a delicate band of gold set with a medium-sized emerald. “Take this as a token of our esteem. Perhaps one day you might share your knowledge with our court physicians.”

Beth accepted the ring with trembling fingers. “Your majesty honors me beyond my worth.”

“I think not,” Elizabeth replied softly. Her eyes held Beth’s for a moment longer than necessary, as if trying to read a mystery written there.

The moment passed. Edward helped his queen into the carriage, then mounted his own destrier. With another blast of trumpets, the royal procession began to move out of the courtyard.

Baldwin stood beside Beth as they watched the column of riders disappear down the road toward London.

“Well,” he said quietly. “That was unexpected.”

“The lands?” Beth asked.

“Aye.” His brow furrowed. “Lord Ashwick was executed for treason last winter. I had not thought to benefit from his downfall.”

Beth studied his profile, the strong line of his jaw tense with thought. “Are you not pleased?”

“The lands are fertile and will increase Glenhaven’s wealth considerably.” He turned to her, his gray eyes serious. “But with greater holdings come greater responsibilities. And greater attention from the crown.”

“Is that bad?”

“Not bad. But... complicated.” He glanced around the courtyard, which was already returning to its normal rhythm as servants resumed their regular duties. “Walk with me?”

Beth nodded, surprised by the invitation. They strolled toward the garden, where the scent of roses hung heavy in the summer air.

“I prefer Glenhaven when it is quiet,” Baldwin admitted. “Court life requires a different kind of vigilance. One must always watch one’s words, one’s actions.”

“I know what you mean,” Beth said. “I felt like I was walking on eggshells the entire time they were here.”

“Eggshells?”

“It’s an expression... where I come from. It means being extremely careful not to offend.”

Baldwin’s lips quirked in a small smile. “An apt description.” He paused beside a rosebush, reaching out to touch one perfect bloom. “You handled yourself well. The queen seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“I was terrified I’d say something wrong and end up in the dungeon.”

“We have no dungeon at Glenhaven,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Merely a rather damp cellar where we keep the ale.”

Beth laughed, the tension of the past days finally releasing. “That’s a relief. Though I’m not sure Eleanor would have let you lock me up, anyway. She’s become quite protective.”

“My sister has always had a good judge of character.” Baldwin’s gaze softened as he looked at her. “As have I, I think.”

The air between them seemed to thicken. Beth became acutely aware of how alone they were in the garden, the rest of the household busy with post-royal visit tasks.

“The queen’s ring suits you,” Baldwin said, his voice lower than before. He reached out, his fingers brushing hers as he examined the emerald. “The color matches your eyes when you speak of your... chemistry.”

Beth’s breath caught at his touch. “Thank you,” she managed. “I’ve never owned anything so beautiful.”

“It is not the jewel that is beautiful,” he said quietly.

Before she could process his words, a call came from the castle. “My lord! A messenger arrives from the north!”

Baldwin’s hand fell away from hers, his expression closing like a shutter. “Duty calls,” he said with a sigh. “But perhaps... later... we might continue our conversation in the library? I have some texts that might interest you.”

“I’d like that,” Beth said, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her chest.

He nodded once, then strode toward the castle.

Beth remained in the garden, the queen’s ring cool against her skin, her thoughts anything but. For the first time since arriving in this century, she wasn’t thinking about how to get back home. She was wondering what it might mean to stay.