Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Charlotte examined his handsome face as he laughed. Owen was indeed a conundrum to her. He seemed rough and rugged around the edges, with a penchant for mischief and a heart of gold to boot. What with her limited experience, there wasn't another man like him.
"This is where ye will be staying," he gestured to the room.
Owen's bedroom was spacious but it was big enough for both with very little furniture to adorn the room, as much as she had imagined a monk's room would look like.
The stone walls were bare, with a single window that overlooked a small patch of earth, presumably used for gardening.
His single bed was simple and plain, with a grey blanket and one pillow.
The only other belongings were a wooden wardrobe next to a small desk with a chair.
The desk itself boasted a small mirror with a crack in it and a basin for washing. Much like her room at her uncle's castle, the belongings were humble and sparse. Though here, the air was warm and fresh instead of stagnant and cold.
"It's nae much, but it is home," Owen explained. "A comfortable and safe space tae lay me head at night."
Charlotte's stomach growled uncomfortably as she looked around the room, reminding herself that she hadn't eaten in over a day since she'd left the castle.
"Are ye hungry?" he asked her with a serious look.
"I haven't eaten in a while," she confessed, not wanting to tell him about her escape or any of the events that led to her being in his room.
She breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded a response without asking any questions.
He was a man true to his word, if nothing else.
She conceded that it may also have been because he didn't want her asking any questions of her own, which made her even more curious in turn.
"I'll go and get ye something tae eat. Make yerself at home an' I'll be back soon," he placed his hand on the doorknob to leave.
"Wait," she suddenly said, stopping him in his tracks.
"Aye?" he asked with one eyebrow raised. "Och," he glanced at the bed before looking back at her. "Dinnae fuss, I will bring an extra blanket an' pillow. Ye dinnae have tae share the bed with me."
"It's not that," she said sheepishly, scratching her arm where the rash was still prominent.
He seemed to suddenly realize what she was asking.
"I'll have a bath brought in and ye can wash.
Dinnae answer the door for anyone while I'm gone; an' if anyone decides tae come in," he jerked his head toward the closet and bed.
"Hide either under or in one of those," he closed the door behind him as he left her alone in the room.
Scratching her arms and legs, she looked around and sat on the bed with her legs folded beneath her.
This place would be her home for the next few days until she left for Scotland with Owen.
Home sweet home, Charlotte thought. Not that she'd been able to call anywhere her home since her father had died.
Owen was the first person to offer her a place of safety in a very long time.
Images from the forest flashed through her mind.
Her body leaning on his… and then his body pressed into hers.
What did I feel at that moment? Charlotte felt the confusion bubbling inside of her.
She hadn't been scared or concerned for her life.
She had been… What was I? Attracted? She couldn't quite describe the warmth she had felt when Owen's body had been so close to hers.
As precarious as the situation she now found herself in, she knew she was far better off than being locked up in the castle where William Dodd was her betrothed.
She didn't have much time to think things over as the handle of the door suddenly turned. Frantically searching for a hiding space, she threw herself on the floor and tried to roll beneath the bed.
"I brought ye…" Owen's voice trailed off as the door swung open. Sighing, he walked over to the table and placed some things down before going over to the bed and peeking underneath.
She could see his shoes as he walked.
"Ye can come out, lass," Owen said with a chuckle.
Rolling herself out, Charlotte looked up at him from her back.
He shook his head with a slight smile and offered his hand to help her up. "I hope ye dae a better job of hiding in the future," he teased.
"I panicked."
"Aye, but I think ye should rather jump in the closet next time. I could see yer feet from the door."
She felt the heat spreading on her cheeks as she glanced at the closet.
"I've brought ye something tae eat," he gestured to the table where a loaf of bread, some cheese, and a pitcher had been placed. "Ye will have to eat with yer hands. I could nae get away with sneaking any cutlery."
"That's fine," she answered, her stomach rumbling again. She would have eaten the bread from his hands at that point if it would make the hunger pangs leave.
"Ye can eat while I go and get an extra blanket and pillow," he paused for a second and looked at her with a devilishly handsome smile that made her stomach flutter with something other than hunger.
"I'll gently knock three times on the door when I return," the corner of his mouth lifted in a mocking smile.
"I'll appreciate that," she said thankfully, waiting for the door to shut behind him again before rushing to the table.
She barely sat before she'd broken off a piece of the bread and shoved it into her mouth, almost swallowing without chewing.
The plainness of the freshly baked loaf tasted like heaven as she ate.
Reaching for the pitcher, she sniffed the foamy liquid before gingerly taking a sip and washing the bread down her throat.
The taste was bitter but not entirely unpleasant as the liquid's warmth swished down her throat.
She reached for the cheese next and took a bite directly from the wedge.
Shutting her eyes, Charlotte sighed in relief as the hunger began to dissipate.
The richness of the cheese and the freshness of the warm bread were a welcome blessing after the hunger she had endured.
She ate for a few minutes until the bread was almost gone.
A gentle knock at the door made her pause; turning to the left, she eyed the cupboard. A second knock came, followed by a third, before the door gently swung open on its hinges.
Owen stood in the doorway with a bulging belly wrapped under a cloak.
She cocked her head in astonishment and stared at the comical figure he cut. "I…" she began but stopped.
"Yes?" he raised an eyebrow as he entered the room and shut the door behind him.
"Never mind," she returned to her food and decided to leave him be. She wanted to ask how he thought he would get away with stuffing a pillow and blanket beneath a cloak when it was so obvious that he was up to something. But she decided that the conversation was not worth the time.
"I apologize if the food is nae enough," Owen said as he pulled the linen and pillow from the cloak and laid it on the bed. "I could nae take any more than that without anyone asking questions. I'll be able tae get ye some more later when the kitchens are completely empty."
"This was perfect for now, thank you," she smiled at him. She was quickly starting to see him as a rather caring man, hiding his feelings behind a rough exterior. He seemed to want to take care of her needs even though she had bribed him into helping her, which made her feel guilty.
"I've asked for a bath to be brought tae the room; they asked why, and I said I was nae feeling tae good. So, ye will have tae hide when the men bring in the tub."
"I appreciate everything you are doing for me," she said kindly, reaching behind and scratching her back. Her skin still itched in places no matter how much she tried to scratch. One spot, in particular, seemed to move around beneath her dress.
"Dinnae mention it," he watched her as she tried to scratch her back with her elbow thrust into the air.
Why won't it stop itching? Charlotte wondered as she struggled to reach the spot. It seemed to shift just out of reach every time she got closer.
"That will be the bath," Owen turned to look at the door when someone knocked. "Get in the cupboard and try nae make a sound this time. The other monks already think I'm off me guard because of ye."
Doing as she was told, Charlotte quickly climbed inside the cupboard and hid between his robes. Light streamed through a crack in the door, allowing her to see the men who stood at the threshold with an overly large tub of water suspended between them.
"Thank ye kindly, brothers." They brought the tub into the middle of the room and placed it down, allowing some of the water to slosh over the side by accident.
"We hope you feel better soon, Brother Owen," one of them said before bowing politely with his hands clasped in prayer. "We will be praying for you. I know a few of the other monks have come down with a cold. It's spreading through the monastery like wildfire."
"And I'm sure yer prayers will be heard," Owen turned his head and coughed into his fist to illustrate the fact that he was feeling ill.
The monks both took a step toward the door.
Owen coughed again with added vigor this time. "Ye better be on yer way now, I would nae want tae give ye what I have."
"We wish you a speedy recovery, Brother Owen," they hurried from the room, shutting the door tightly behind them.
Owen laughed to himself and shook his head with his hands on his hips. "Ye can come out now, lass," he said as he turned and walked over to the cupboard door, pulling it open.
Charlotte almost toppled to the floor but quickly grabbed his legs and steadied herself. An awkward silence ensued during which they stared at each other as she clung to his legs with half her body hanging out the door.
"Why were ye against the door?" he eventually asked.
"I was trying to listen to what was being said."