She knew he’d meant nothing by his actions.He was only concerned for her welfare and didn’t realize he was becoming so physical.She’d done similar things herself, trying to make a point.
But to the uninformed eye, Adam appeared to be an errant monk accosting a lady.And she could think of no alternative explanation for what the prior had witnessed.Not one that he’d believe.
Could she say the monk’s hands had somehow become innocently tangled in her girdle?
That he’d been practicing for an upcoming mystery play?
Or demonstrating a wrestling match he’d seen at the fair?
It all sounded absurd.Nay, she had to walk away.She had to come up with an alternative plan to get him out of this.And an alternative persona to pull it off.
It was mostly her fault.She shouldn’t have acknowledged Adam in the first place.She should have ignored him.
He could have gone on pretending he was a monk.She would have maintained her composure and continued on her way.
But she’d been so surprised to see him.Almost as surprised as he was to be recognized.And once she’d gazed into his enthralling eyes, her mind had gone blank.Panic set in.She forgot for a moment who she was supposed to be.
As for whohewas, she honestly didn’t know.Maybe hewasa monk from Scone Priory.If that were true, there wasn’t much she could do to save him from the prior’s wrath.
But something told her that wasn’t his real identity.And since she’d gotten him into this mess, it was up to her to get him out of it.
Hopefully, he’d be safe enough until the morrow.Most monastic punishments weren’t too severe.They commonly involved things like confinement in one’s cell for a day or going to bed without supper.
Meanwhile, she’d change into her habit and seek lodging at the nearby convent as Sister Eve.
She dug her satchel out of the leaves and opened it to do an inventory of the contents.She had an idea for a costume that would take the rest of the day to complete.But with any luck, when she returned to Scone Priory in the morn, no one would recognize her.
As it turned out, Eve got a late start the next day.At breakfast, the abbess at the convent was eager for news from the traveling sister.Eve had scarcely buttered her bread when the nuns began peppering her with questions about the nunnery in the west.
Eventually she was able to excuse herself.She thanked them for their charity, though some of it they weren’t aware of yet.But she left ample coin in the cell where she’d slept to pay for the things she’d procured without permission—the bedsheets, a wax tablet and stylus, a wooden candlestick, and most of the tail hair from the convent’s old mule.
By the time she bid them farewell, the sun was already halfway on its morning journey toward midday.
In the woods, she changed into the disguise she’d stitched out of the pale linen bedsheets—a rough cassock with a braided belt.She stuffed the top with rags to thicken her torso.Tying back her hair, she covered her head with an oversized gray cowl.Then she rolled on the forest floor to dirty the garments.To disguise her hands and bare feet, she wrapped them with scraps of mud-stained linen.She’d wanted to stain them with blood and perhaps animal dung.But there were limits to her commitment to the role.
Using pine pitch, she artfully affixed the mule hair to her face, creating an unkempt, grizzled beard that hung halfway down her chest.She added the cross she’d roughly carved out of the wooden candlestick, as well as the tablet and stylus, hung around her neck by strips of braided linen.As a finishing touch, she smeared her face and fingers with charred peat.Along the way, she found a fallen oak branch that was just the right size for a staff.
It was midday when she entered the gates of Scone Priory with a slow and measured gait, leaning heavily on the staff, as if she’d been walking for months.Anyone who saw her would recognize her as an ascetic and a pilgrim.
Despite her unclean appearance, she would be welcome among the monks, of course.They would offer her food at their table.And unless part of Adam’s punishment was going hungry, he would be among those supping.
She stopped at the fountain, ostensibly to get a drink.But she was actually perusing the cloister, looking for signs of Adam or the prior.And finding nothing.
Suddenly someone tugged on the back of her cassock.
She turned round with a scowl.It was a pair of oblates.They looked to be about seven years old, with brown cassocks, wide eyes, and inquisitive faces.
“Are ye a pilgrim?”one of them asked.
Eve gave them a slow nod.
“Where are ye goin’?”demanded the other.
She narrowed her eyes.Then she picked up the tablet and scrawled into it with the stylus, turning it toward them.
The first one squinted at the letters.“CAN…YOU…READ?”he read.“Aye, I can.”He wagged a thumb at the other lad.“Timothy can’t though.”
“Edward!”Timothy frowned and stuck out his tongue at Edward.
