"Yes, let's do that," she nodded vigorously. Any idea was good if it didn't involve her having to sneak and hide. The forest was one thing. But a holy place filled with people was another.
"But then I'll have tae explain why ye suddenly disappeared again an’ why naebody can find ye," he used his hands as scales to weigh the options for himself. "The monks are very sociable around here," he said apologetically.
Taking a deep breath, she counted to ten and shut her eyes, rethinking all the life choices she had made until now. "Let's get it over with," she finally said.
"Good girl," he squeezed her shoulder and motioned for her to stay close behind.
They quickly slunk through the door and kept to the shadows. Torches blazed in their sconces, bathing the hall in an almost blinding light. Charlotte could hear the distant voices of monks as they prayed and chattered away. There was a light cheerfulness within the halls of the building, a stark contrast to the dark atmosphere she had been accustomed to in her uncle's castle.
In a different life and under different circumstances, Charlotte wished she could visit a place like this.
She panicked again for the thousandth time as voices and the sound of sandals on stone could be heard down the hall. She looked at Owen with wide eyes. He gripped her shoulders and pulled her into a nearby alcove hidden from the light. They stumbled into each other and grasped the surrounding darkness to steady themselves. Charlotte gasped at the feel of Owen's strong arm around her as she pulled herself up. Owen's loin ached as he hurriedly straightened. He tried to catch his breath. Being this close to Charlotte was driving him mad.
"Keep yer head down an’ dinnae even make a sound," he whispered through his teeth before turning back and blocking the light with his body.
Charlotte held her breath and looked around as the footsteps drew nearer. The tiny hidden corner seemed like it had once held a statue, evident by a hole in the wall. It was like the other dome-shaped crevices she'd seen along the way where smaller statues were kept. She recalled someone once saying the alcoves were used by religious folk to contemplate and pray in silence.
"Brother Owen," a man's cheerful voice called to him, making Charlotte crouch as far as she could.
"Good evening, gentlemen," he greeted cheerfully. "Out for an evening stroll?"
"Just finished dinner. We lost track of time," the same cheery voice replied. "We missed ye again, Brother Owen. Were ye out?"
"Nae," Owen answered quickly. "I took some time tae pray and fast as per Brother Thomas' suggestion," he lied. "I've also taken it open meself tae rid the monastery of all kinds of creatures."
Charlotte wished he hadn't mentioned spiders, not when she was tucked away in a confined space with no escape. It hadn't occurred to her that anything may be lurking until he mentioned it.
An awkward silence ensued before anyone spoke again.
"Yes…" a second voice said in a weary tone. "Brother Thomas mentioned that ye have taken a keen interest in spiders of late."
"Just doing me part," Owen happily confessed.
Charlotte caught her breath and stifled a scream when she looked around and realized just how many spiderwebs were in the alcove with her. Light from the torches caught the strands, making them sparkle and shine. They must have cleaned this section at least a century ago.I have to get out!Her mind screamed. Reaching up, she gently tugged on the back of Owen's robe, hoping he'd hurry things up.
Owen took a breath and shifted on his feet as the men continued to speak.
"It's a very noble gesture of ye indeed," the first voice said with more concern than cheer this time. "Would ye like any help with your endeavor? We would be more than willing to give ye a hand if you like?"
"Of course we would," the others chimed in unison.
Charlotte felt she would faint if she didn't get out soon. Tugging on the back of his robe a little harder, she tried to get his attention. The air was hot and stifling as the monks chattered on. Her eyes darted around to see if any of the webs were occupied or if the spiders had long ago died, which she sincerely hoped they had.
"I'm sure we will get the little pest problem under control if we all worked together tomorrow," one of the men offered. "Ye could join us for mass if we give you a hand," he paused as if thefollowing thought brought him great joy. "You could even join us for the evening walk thereafter."
"That's kind of ye, brothers," Owen answered politely. "But I like tae dae these things on me own. It gives me time tae pray and think on all of me sins," he continued quickly when none of the others said a word. "I was inspired by Brother Thomas' writings on how tae better meself… I mean oneself," he tried to cover the fact that he'd been the sole inspiration for that particular narrative.
"Och, aye," the most chatty of the monks answered. "Very inspirational of ye. I am sure Brother Thomas would be delighted to hear that."
Owen placed his hand behind his back and waved Charlotte away when she tugged on the back of his robes for a third time. Reaching out, she placed her hand in his and squeezed with all of her might to get her point across.
Owen yelped like a newborn pup and jumped an inch in the air, almost exposing her in the process.
"Are ye well, Brother Owen?" one of the monks asked with deep concern in his voice. "Should we call anyone, ye look flustered tonight?"
Leaning against the wall to ensure she was hidden again, Owen crossed his legs at the ankles and placed his hand on his hip. "I am quite well. Thank you, Brother Broderick. I'm just a wee bit tired," his voice was slightly higher as he spoke.
Charlotte could see the red marks forming on his fingers where she had squeezed. But that was the least of her problems at present. She spotted a huge spider out of the corner of her eye and slunk back into the wall as far as she could. Her breathing was labored as sweat began to gather on her skin. Her fear was palpable as she said a silent prayer. The spider in question was black, with hairy legs. She swore that she could count each hair on its eight legs as it stared down at her from the corner of the ceiling.
