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“I’ll do it,” Beth said suddenly.

Baldwin whirled to face her. “You will not.”

Her chin lifted, a gesture he’d come to recognize as stubbornness. “If it will stop this nonsense?—”

“It will not stop,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “It will only begin.” He turned back to Cedric, rage building in his chest. “This is my land, my village. You have no authority here.”

Cedric shrugged. “True enough. Though I wonder what the king will think when he hears you harbor a woman who fears a simple test of faith.”

The iron rod was now in the forge, its tip beginning to glow red. Beth took a step forward, but Baldwin’s arm shot out, blocking her path.

“My lord,” she began, but he wasn’t listening.

In three strides, Baldwin reached the forge. The blacksmith stepped back, eyes wide. With a swift movement, Baldwin seized the iron rod from the fire, its tip glowing white hot, and hurled it to the ground. It struck the cobblestones with a clang, sparks flying.

“There will be no test,” he thundered, his voice echoing across the suddenly silent square. “This woman is under my protection. Any who doubt my judgment doubt me.” His gaze swept the crowd, challenging. “Is there any here who wish to question my rule?”

No one spoke. Even Cedric seemed taken aback by the ferocity in Baldwin’s tone.

Baldwin turned to the blacksmith, who had gone pale. “Rob, you have served Glenhaven faithfully for twenty years. Would you now turn on one of my household based on whispers and fear?”

The man’s gaze dropped. “No, my lord. Forgive me.”

“There is nothing to forgive if you remember your loyalty.” Baldwin faced Cedric again, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. “As for you, Cedric, I suggest you take your men and leave my lands before I forget the courtesy due a fellow nobleman.”

Cedric’s smile had vanished, replaced by a cold stare. “As you wish. Though I wonder if your... fondness... for this woman has clouded your judgment.” He mounted his horse with deliberate slowness. “Until we meet again. Perhaps at court, where King Edward may wish to hear of these... curiosities.”

Baldwin watched in silence as Cedric and his men rode out of the village, the crowd parting before them. Only when they had disappeared from sight did he turn back to Beth and Eleanor.

His sister’s face was flushed with anger, but it was Beth who held his gaze. Her eyes were wide, her face pale, but there was no fear in her expression, only a stunned sort of wonder.

“The market is ended for today,” Baldwin announced to the villagers, his voice brooking no argument. “Return to your homes.”

As the crowd dispersed, he approached Beth, acutely aware of the eyes still watching them. “Are you harmed?” he asked, the words rough in his throat.

She shook her head. “No. But you didn’t have to?—”

“I did,” he interrupted. “And I would again.” He glanced at Eleanor. “Take her back to the castle. Now.”

Eleanor nodded, for once not arguing. She took Beth’s arm, guiding her toward where their horses waited.

Baldwin remained in the square a moment longer, his gaze lingering on the discarded iron rod, now cooling on the cobblestones. The rage still burned in his chest, all the more disturbing for its intensity. He had faced enemies in battle with less fury than he’d felt watching Cedric threaten Beth.

This woman from another time was becoming dangerous, not because of any witchcraft, but because of how she made him feel. How she made him act. The realization troubled him as he mounted his horse and followed the women back to Glenhaven.

The ride back to the castle was silent. Baldwin led the way, his broad shoulders tense beneath his tunic, while Eleanor and Beth followed. The summer sun beat down, but Beth shivered occasionally, the memory of what almost happened still fresh.

As they passed through the castle gates, Baldwin dismounted in one fluid motion, then turned to help Beth from her horse.

His hands at her waist were strong and sure, and for a brief moment, she found herself close enough to see the flecks of darker gray in his eyes, to catch the scent of leather and cedar that clung to him.

“My thanks,” she murmured as her feet touched the ground. “For what you did back there.”

His expression remained grave. “Cedric is dangerous. More so now that I’ve challenged him publicly.”

“I’m sorry,” she began, but he shook his head.

“The fault is not yours.” His voice softened slightly. “Though perhaps in future, speak less of your... chemical compositions... in the village.”

A small smile touched her lips at his careful pronunciation of the modern term. “I’ll try to remember.”

Eleanor had already dismounted and stood watching them, her expression thoughtful. “I should see to the preparations for dinner,” she said, though dinner was hours away. With a knowing glance at Beth, she disappeared into the castle.

Baldwin and Beth remained in the courtyard, the bustle of castle life continuing around them. Stable boys leading horses away, servants carrying baskets, a dog barking somewhere in the distance.

“He’ll come for you now,” Beth said softly. “Cedric. He’ll try to use me against you.”

Baldwin’s jaw tightened. “Let him try.”

“I don’t want to be the cause of trouble for you. For any of you.” She gestured toward the castle, where Eleanor had vanished. “Maybe I should?—”

“No.” The word was sharp, final. Baldwin’s gaze held hers, intense and unwavering. “You remain under my protection.”

“Why?” she asked, the question escaping before she could stop it. “Why risk your position, your reputation, for someone you barely know? Someone you don’t even fully believe?”

For a long moment, he said nothing, and she thought he might not answer. Then, his voice low enough that only she could hear, he said, “Because he fears what he cannot understand. And that fear will not touch you while I draw breath.”

The words hung between them, heavy with meaning. A warmth that had nothing to do with the summer heat spread through her at his words.

Before she could respond, a distant rumble of thunder broke the silence. Baldwin glanced at the sky, where dark clouds were gathering on the horizon.

“A storm comes,” he said, his voice returning to its usual practical tone. “We should go inside.”