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“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.

Beth’s eyes finally met his across the room. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, not of fear, but of something far more dangerous. His gray eyes burned with an emotion she couldn’t name, his jaw set in a hard line.

She looked away first, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was a mistake. Playing games with a medieval lord, especially one as proud and powerful as Baldwin, was like poking a sleeping dragon. Thrilling, perhaps, but ultimately unwise.

The rest of the meal passed in a blur of forced conversation and sidelong glances. When the tables were finally cleared and musicians took their places for the evening’s entertainment, Beth excused herself, suddenly desperate for fresh air.

She slipped from the hall, making her way down the torch-lit corridor toward the small garden where she often conducted her experiments. The night air was cool against her flushed skin, carrying the scent of rain and distant woodsmoke.

She had barely taken ten steps when a large hand closed around her upper arm, spinning her around.

Baldwin stood before her, his expression thunderous in the flickering torchlight. His circlet was gone, his dark hair falling across his forehead, giving him a dangerous, untamed appearance.

“What game do you play, mistress?” His voice was low, controlled, but with an edge that made her breath catch.

Beth lifted her chin. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Do not pretend innocence.” He stepped closer, backing her against the cold stone wall. “Gareth is a fool, but even he deserves better than to be used as a pawn in whatever scheme you’ve concocted.”

“Scheme?” Beth’s temper flared. “That’s rich, coming from you. One day you’re showing me star charts and looking at me like...like I matter, and the next you’re telling Roland I’m nothing but a distraction.”

Baldwin’s eyes widened slightly. “You heard that.”

“Yes, I heard it. Every word.” She pushed against his chest, but he didn’t budge. “So forgive me if I seek company that actually wants me around.”

“Is that what you think?” His voice dropped, becoming dangerously soft. “That I don’t want you around?”

“What else am I supposed to think?” Beth’s voice cracked slightly. “You’ve been avoiding me for days. You barely look at me, and when you do, it’s like you’re angry that I exist.”

Baldwin’s hands came up to brace against the wall on either side of her head, caging her between his arms. The heat of his body radiated through the scant inches separating them.

“I am angry,” he admitted, his breath warm against her face. “Not at your existence, but at what it does to me. You will not use another man to punish me for that.”

Beth’s heart thundered in her ears. “Then stop treating me like I’m dangerous.”

“You are dangerous.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “More than you know.”

The tension between them stretched taut as a bowstring. Beth found herself leaning forward, drawn by some invisible force toward this infuriating, compelling man. Baldwin’s eyes darkened, his head lowering toward hers.

“My lord?” A servant’s voice shattered the moment. “Father Gregory asks for you in the chapel. He says ’tis urgent.”

Baldwin closed his eyes briefly, his jaw working. When he opened them again, the heat was banked, replaced by his usual controlled demeanor.

“Tell him I am on my way,” he said without turning.

The servant’s footsteps retreated, leaving them alone once more in the flickering torchlight.

Baldwin stepped back, his hands falling to his sides. “This conversation is not finished,” he said, his voice rough.

“Isn’t it?” Beth challenged, her own voice steadier than she felt. “Because from where I stand, you’re running away again.”

His eyes flashed. “I do not run from anything or anyone.”

“Prove it,” she whispered.

For a heartbeat, she thought he might close the distance between them again. Instead, he turned on his heel and strode away, his cloak billowing behind him like a shadow.

Beth sagged against the wall, her legs suddenly weak. She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the rapid beat of her heart beneath her palm.

What in the world am I doing? She wondered. Playing medieval mind games with a man who could have me thrown in the dungeon with a word?

Yet as she made her way back to her chamber, tipsy and warm, she couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her veins. Baldwin might be fighting whatever was growing between them, but tonight had proven one thing beyond a doubt. He was not as indifferent as he pretended to be.

The question was, what would he do about it?