Page 3 of Our Sins in Silver (Coven of Sin 3)

“You’re wrong. You’re the most righteous sinner I’ve ever met. It’s inspiring, Brother Godfrey, to see a man of the cloth question the Word of God as we have it recorded, to not follow the law of man, but the teachings of Our Lord. Isn’t that what Jesus Christ did?”

I closed my eyes as I tried to steady the erratic thrum of my heart. Not only were my colleagues defiling scripture at my beckon, but they were now breaking several articles within the monk’s book of principles,The Rule of Saint Benedict.

God forgive me.

“If I do not appear for work tomorrow, continue overseeing the transcription of Deuteronomy. Omit any passages condoning slavery and rape. If you’re uncertain whether something should remain, come find me.”

“Yes, Brother.”

“Good man. I bid you goodnight.”

“Brother Godfrey?”

I glanced over my shoulder at him one last time. The young monk had never looked so troubled. He worked his lower lip into a pulp, his eyes downcast to the floor.

“What is it?”

“Do you think we will be discovered? I fear the abbot's wrath.”

My stomach knotted. I feared the same thing. Instead of saying this, I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “What matters is that our efforts are righteous in the eyes of the Lord. And if He views our mission as a sin, then Lucifer curse this place, Elijah. Lucifer curse it all to Hell.”

Chapter two

Visitor in the Night

Sterling - Pt. 2

I’dneverlikedthatthey had provided me with my own room when I accepted my role as senior scribe. I didn’t deserve the extra space any more than the other men. Now, though, I found myself thankful for the privacy.

I scrubbed my skin clean as best I could with the rag and bucket of water in the corner, downed a slab of bread like a beggar without saying grace, and collapsed into bed without bothering to change. I succumbed to the darkness closing in around me before my head hit my pillow.

I dreamed of nothing but scripture—Psalms 40, over and over, as if it were branded into the back of my eyelids.

Dread gripped my heart when I felt a hand on me, shaking me awake.

Had the abbot returned? Was he angry that my apprentice had freed me? Had he discovered my trespasses?

I bolted upright in my bed, registering how gentle the hand was on my shoulder—how it slid sensually down my arm and remained on my elbow, dainty fingers caressing me.

“S–Sister Catherine?” What was she doing here? No woman was allowed in this wing, and certainly not inside a monk’s private quarters.

The young woman knelt beside my bed, her fair features cast in the amber glow of the candle she’d brought with her. “Brother Godfrey. I’ve prayed for you these last three nights. I’ve barely thought about anything else.”

“You shouldn’t be here. Only men are permitted in this building. If you’re seen, you’ll likely get the strap.”

Sister Catherine was one of the younger nuns in the abbey. She couldn’t have been a day older than nineteen. As happy as I was to look at anything other than Psalms 40, I wished she hadn’t come. This wasn’t proper. My mind flicked through my memories of time spent with her, trying to remember any instance where I might have given her the wrong impression. I’d been polite, but never allowed my eyes to linger.

The nun still had her youthful innocence about her, always walking around the gardens with stars in her eyes. She’d yet to discover the darker side of life. I had no desire to be what sullied the snow-white world she lived in.

“Brother Godfrey,” the young blonde muttered in her soft-as-angel-down cadence. She leaned into my lap, her cheeks stained red and her eyes glossy and swollen, as if she’d been crying.

Catherine was a handsome woman, but I’d never coveted her, or any woman for that matter. As a monk, I’d sworn off certain human indulgences, female companionship among them.

Now, I was finding it hard to breathe, seeing her crouched between my legs while dressed as she was. She wore her flaxen hair loose, kissing her shoulders. The candlelight lit up the golden strands like a halo around her head, making her appear positively angelic. She’d come without her cornet and was wearing nothing but a thin nightgown. I could see her nipples, hard and jutting against the rough cotton.

I averted my eyes, flustered. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

“I couldn’t sleep, Brother. Not when Brother Elijah told me of the state he found you in.”

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