The Huntress of Thornbeck Forest (A Medieval Fairy Tale #1)(11)
Finally Brother Philip produced the Book of Hours. He made her rub her hands on a clean cloth before he would allow her to turn the pages, but it was worth it when she saw the beautiful illuminations on the pages. Colorful painted pictures of scenes from the Bible shone brightly. The margins of some of the pages were decorated with elaborately intricate flowers, leaves, and vines.
Perhaps the beautiful illuminations should have inspired her to appreciate God’s creation and give thanks for it, but mostly they made her mind wander to when she was very small and her mother had kept a beautiful flower garden in their small courtyard behind their house.
Then her mind roamed to more immediate recollections. How many children would go hungry today because Odette had not been able to go hunting the night before, when there were too many people roaming the forest celebrating Midsummer? She had slept little, having awakened from her dream feeling cold, the pungent smell of calendula in her nostrils.
“Forgive me, Brother Philip, but I am too tired to study today.”
He frowned at her. “No doubt you engaged in too much frivolity last night.”
“If you are wondering if I went to the town center and danced with men I had never met before, you would be correct.” Odette couldn’t resist saying things she knew would evoke a look of shock on the monk’s face.
His expression of horrified disappointment was a little more than she had been aiming for.
“My uncle Rutger and my friend Anna and her husband were with me the entire time, and nothing unseemly occurred. The two men who danced with me were very courteous, and my uncle approved of them.”
“Humph.” He scrunched his face. “Maidens of your age should be married or in a convent somewhere.”
“How old do you think I am?”
“Your uncle told me you are twenty years.”
“I will be one and twenty in two days. Does that make me scandalous, if I am walking the streets unmarried?” Odette laughed at the thought.
Brother Philip raised his eyebrows.
Odette suppressed a sigh, as she was often forced to do when she was with Brother Philip.
“Young women such as yourself never understand what a temptation you are,” he muttered, looking down at the text he had been examining.
It wasn’t the first time she had heard words to that effect, either from Brother Philip or from others, but it irked her nevertheless. “I shall endeavor to refrain from being a temptation, Brother Philip, but I rather think it is the men you should be warning. Shouldn’t they shoulder most of the blame if they find me a temptation?” She almost asked him if she should sit at home and let her uncle arrange a marriage for her to a stranger, but he would say yes.
Brother Philip’s leathery cheeks turned red. He took a deep breath, then quoted, “’Such is the way of the adulterous woman; she eateth, and wipeth her mouth, and saith, I have done no wickedness.’ ”
Odette answered, “’His own iniquities shall take the wicked himself, and he shall be holden with the cords of his sins.’ ”
His eyes narrowed and he growled, “’For the lips of a strange woman drop as an honeycomb, and her mouth is smoother than oil. But her end is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged sword.’ ”
Odette shot back, “’Unto the pure all things are pure: but unto them that are defiled and unbelieving is nothing pure; but even their mind and conscience is defiled.’ ” Odette couldn’t hold back a smirk.
Brother Philip expelled a harsh breath and stood to his feet. “I see that I had better leave you now. Your scholarship is serving only to provide fodder for argument and the twisting of the holy Scripture.” He reached across the table and slid the Book of Hours toward himself, then closed it with a dull snap.
Odette had been planning to ask if she could keep the beautiful book until he came back for their next tutoring session, but now she bit her lip to stop herself. He was in no mood to grant her such a favor.
Should she apologize? She had only refuted his warped opinion with Scripture. No, she was not sorry for what she had said, nor for anything she had done. Still, she wished her tutor would not go away angry.
She followed Brother Philip to the door, neither of them speaking. Then he turned to her. “I shall not return in two days. Your uncle will have to convince me that you are sorry for using Scripture to argue with me, and if he believes you will be able to concentrate and not allow your mind to wander aimlessly, I may return.” He scowled at her.
Odette’s cheeks burned. How ridiculous that he would take such offense at her besting him with Scripture! But she did want him to come back. She had no copy of the holy Writ, and he often brought his copy for her to read. She had to placate him if she wanted him to come back. So she bit the inside of her cheek and said, “Of course. Forgive me, Brother Philip.” She bowed demurely.
He turned and left without another word. But he would be back. He was too fond of the food their cook fed him to stay away. She would send Uncle Rutger to ask his forgiveness and pacify the friar’s injured superiority.
“So . . . who is your future husband?” Anna asked late that afternoon.
Odette was baffled for a moment, then remembered she was supposed to dream of her future husband on Midsummer night. She didn’t want to tell her friend that she had indeed dreamed of someone. “You know that does not work. Remember when Irmele dreamed of the swineherd on Midsummer night? And she married a wealthy merchant’s son.”