Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Owen awoke feeling disoriented. After Charlotte had gone back to sleep, he had closed his eyes, hoping to follow suit, but soon found that it would not be so easy.
He had opened his eyes and stared at her sleeping form as he tried to remember what he had dreamed about.
It was ironic, really. Usually, whenever he was plagued by his dreams almost every night, he would get up from bed and go about his day as he struggled to forget what he had dreamed.
Unfortunately, Owen often found it to be a difficult affair. Forgetting was almost impossible and he would go on smiling and conversing with the other monks, acting as though all was all right with him despite the burden that weighed on his shoulders all day.
It was because of this that he considered the situation ironic. Here, he was trying to remember instead of being relieved that he could finally forget. But it felt important to remember. There was something at the back of his mind that nipped at his heels, trying to force him to remember.
Another thing that had kept Owen awake was his burning desire to make love to his guest. He could not deny that he had found her attractive from the first time he saw her.
Of course, he had. Charlotte was a beautiful woman, and he greatly enjoyed her presence and banter.
Although he was not a true monk, as she had been so quick to point out, Owen had tried his best to follow the rules of the monastery as much as he could.
And that included his vow of celibacy. He had not had the pleasure of the flesh since he came here, and he had tried to brush off her effect on him.
Charlotte was not making it easy for him, though.
His body had burned hot when he saw her naked form.
And even more so as she had caressed him out of his horrified dream state and into reality, with her soft flesh nestled against his in comfort.
Her hands stroked his head and hair; her breath on his face drove him mad as she spoke softly in his ear.
Owen had turned with his back to her sleeping body and closed his eyes.
He did not know how long he had been awake before he had finally welcomed sleep, letting it take him.
Owen sat up and rubbed at his eyes just a few moments later.
It was the shortest sleep he had had for as long as he could remember.
He was sorely tempted to go back to sleep as it was still quite early, and the sun was not yet out.
But he knew he could not. If he drifted off again, he was not certain when he would wake.
And since he had told the other monks that he was sick, one of them might be tempted to check on him.
Owen sighed deeply as he sat up, looking at the still-sleeping figure on his bed. His body ached terribly from the hardness of the floor and he was sure he would catch a chill soon enough if he did not get up. The coldness of the floor had seeped through the blanket.
He got up and picked up the blanket, shaking it off to remove any particles and placing it on Charlotte's shivering form.
The room could get quite cold at night, especially due to the storm.
He smiled when she burrowed her face deeper into the pillow, a sigh escaping her lips at the blanket's soothing warmth.
He was glad to be able to offer her comfort but even more so, he had covered her because on the chance that if someone were to come in here to check up on him, they would find a sleeping form on the bed and the blanket would be big enough to hide the truth of her identity from them.
A shiver ran through him as he imagined how scandalized the monks would be if they saw a woman in his bed.
He was grateful that the monks were aware of a contagious cold going about the monastery.
Knowing that none of them would be bold enough to go in for a closer inspection of the person lying in bed made him a little more relaxed.
He walked to the washbasin and splattered some water on his face to clear the sleep from his eyes.
He dried his face and decided to make breakfast for when Charlotte woke up.
Although he had been able to get some food for her last night, he knew it had not filled her stomach and that she would wake up famished.
He hoped he would find enough food to keep her satisfied for a long time.
Owen dusted off his robe, grimacing when he saw how rumpled it had become from stirring around on the ground in it. He often slept in his underclothes, but he could not very well do that last night, considering he had a guest he did not want to make uncomfortable.
He tied the cincture around his waist and headed for the door, looking back at her before carefully sliding the heavy wood open and shutting it after him.
He looked around to find that the hallways were empty, except for a few monks going about their duties.
It was time for breakfast and the others would be in line for food by now.
The thought of seeing Brother Thomas filled him with chagrin.
Owen did not hate the man, no, far from it.
What he hated was having to lie in the monastery while piling up his already long list of sins he had to atone for and it seemed that every time he met the man, he always found himself trying to lie just to escape his probing questions.
He walked quickly to the kitchen. It would be better to get it over with now; it was still early and some of the monks would be carrying out their different tasks.
Owen hoped that Brother Thomas would be on duty or at least find someone else so intriguing to ask questions that he would leave him alone or, even better, be unavailable during breakfast.
Owen arrived at the kitchen and joined the thankfully short line.
He waited patiently as it got to his turn to get food, grateful no one had tried to talk to him so far.
He picked up a bowl and filled it with frumenty, taking some dark bread along with him.
He carefully arranged them in a little basket he had picked while he was in line and took a cup of ale as well.
He turned to leave the line when he noticed some of the monks staring at him.
"Brother Owen. We noticed that yer appetite has been quite large since yesterday," one came over to say. Monks were a pious lot, only taking as much as humbly needed.
Owen nodded to the monk, Brother Matthews.
He had come just months after Owen. The monastery he had lived in before had burned down and they had all had to find somewhere else to go.
Owen liked the man. He did not know if it was his nature or if it was due to the loss he experienced, but the monk was a quiet man who often kept to himself and never probed into another one's affairs.
Other than the occasional greeting, they had only conversed a few times.
"Och, aye. I have been feeling quite tired and find myself unable to muster much energy for some time now.
I believe it was because of the fast I had undergone a few days earlier.
So now I am trying to get my strength back.
" There was nothing more appealing to a monk than prayers and fasting.
Owen knew telling that to monks like Brother Thomas and Brother Matthews, who upheld the monastery's traditions without fail, would get rid of whatever questions or suspicions they might have.
"Och, I see," Brother Matthews smiled as he nodded his head in understanding. "It is good to see that ye are fasting and praying as ye should. Indeed, ye should eat enough so that ye can quickly get yer strength back."
Owen was preparing to leave when Brother Matthews spoke once more.
"I am sure that if ye continue in yer fasting and prayers, ye will soon be out there like yer uncle and the other monks who set out on the journey to give alms. I can tell ye that there is nothing more rewarding than being able to give to the poor.
But ye dae nae need me to tell ye. I am sure yer uncle will have a lot of stories to tell ye when he returns soon. "
Owen's eyes widened, and the man smiled as though he thought Owen had just received an epiphany because of his words.
He would be right, of course. But it was certainly not what he believed it to be.
Owen had told Charlotte that his uncle would be returning in a few days, but he did not know the exact date.
He eyed the monk, who was still smiling at him.
Did he know something? Although the man had only been here a few years, his years of practice as a monk in his previous monastery and his obvious devotion had made him privy to information that Owen would never be privy to, if not for his uncle who told him certain things.
"I ken me uncle and the others are scheduled to return soon but do ye ken the exact day they should be here?" Owen asked the man. It would spell doom for him if his uncle was to return early. He doubted he would be able to hide Charlotte in the room without him being alerted to her presence.
"Och, aye. Yer uncle and the other monks sent correspondence.
It would seem that they managed to finish up before the expected time of return, so they will be returning sooner.
" Brother Matthews rubbed his hand on his slightly balding head.
"If all goes well, they should be back before the end of the day. "
"What? Ye mean today?" This was a problem. A huge problem.
"Aye, that is exactly what I mean." Matthews chuckled at the look of shock on Owen's face mistaking it for something else. "I see ye are excited to see yer uncle."