All it took was some inattention on his part, a missed clue, and the quicksand opened at his feet. Though Rurik now saw the motivations behind the manipulations, he’d stepped right into the trap. This was about ruining him as much as ruining Margriet and her father.
Even knowing that, he could not give the answer he wanted to, for in that moment, he knew it was a choice between a woman he loved and everything else he’d ever wanted in his life. The acceptance of his father’s offer of a name and family and all that he’d lost years ago restored, all that stood in the balance now against Margriet’s love.
It was the worst moment in his life and it seemed to stretch on forever. He knew in his heart that he needed to protect Margriet, and he could have sworn that it was only a momentary pause, but when she faced him with sad acceptance on her face, Rurik knew that it had been too long.
“Margriet,” he said as she pulled away from him. “Wait.”
He wondered if he was looking into a mirror now when her expression collapsed and he knew she felt betrayed. “I understand, Rurik. Truly I do,” she said in a desolate voice.
“Father, this has been unpleasant enough. Can we finish the arrangements in the morning?” Thorfinn asked, an unrecognizable sincerity in his voice now that he’d won. At their father’s nod, he turned to his stepmother. “Lady Agnes, would you see to my betrothed?”
Rurik watched as the countess and the physician assisted Margriet from the chamber. He shuddered as he had a premonition that the worst was yet to come.
“Gunnar, I will not take responsibility for a bastard when I do not know if it even mine. So, no marriage will take place until she whelps it. What you do with it, if it survives at all, is your concern and not mine.”
Rurik turned then and walked away without looking back.
The fog that rolled in before dawn and covered the castle in an impenetrable layer only signified the mood of many of its inhabitants. Especially his. Rurik had walked the battlements all through the night and could tell anyone interested the exact moment when the fog appeared and moved into place.
When morning came, and it was difficult to cipher due to the fog, he went to see Gunnar, to try to convince him not to accept Thorfinn’s explanations or offer of marriage. He found empty chambers and a servant said they’d left before dawn for his estate in Orphir.
He went to his father and tried to reason things out with him, sharing his suspicions about Thorfinn with him to no avail. Without proof, there was no way he could answer the accusations and at the bottom of it all lay the truth—Margriet surrendered her virtue to him and now carried his child. Rurik knew there was proof somewhere, he just could not figure out where it was.
Unfortunately, he had no standing in the matter, so trying to break any betrothal would fail. Loving the woman promised in marriage to his brother was not a legal reason in the eyes of the church. Rurik had admitted in front of all of them that there was no chance the child was his, so he could not even claim that right. And, there was his own betrothal, being finalized within days, to consider. Soon, the locks would turn on all of the chains and there could be no freedom.
Since the foul weather matched his foul mood, he gathered twelve of the guards and battled them one after another until none could move. Exhausted but now clear-minded, as battle tended to make him, he finally realized who among his men had been working against them and giving Thorfinn the information—even the truth of things—that had been used to bait and spring the trap. When a servant brought news of a body discovered in the middens outside the castle, Rurik knew how he could prove it and hopefully find a way to put a stop to any marriage between Margriet and Thorfinn.
His men entered his chambers a short time later, all silent, for most knew what had happened last evening. Most every inhabitant of the castle and the town knew, for when one of the highest fell from grace, some gloated, some celebrated, some mourned, but they all knew. Gunnar had long been in his lord’s favor and he’d made enemies over the many years for counsel given and recommendations made or opinions held. Thorfinn was not the only one who wished disgrace upon him.
Rurik stood before them and looked from one to the next as he spoke. “You know what happened last night and I am here to find out the name of the man who helped Thorfinn perpetrate this attack on Gunnar’s honor.”
“What do you mean, Rurik? Do you think one of us a spy for him?” Sven asked.
He could feel their indignation rise at his statement, but he nodded anyway. “Aye. One of you has been helping Thorfinn from the beginning. The delays in receiving my father’s summons. Thorfinn’s accidental meeting with Margriet near the convent. The tainted meat that took us ill. Someone even followed me back from Thurso and reported on what happened between Margriet and myself.”
Some angry muttering began among them, but no one admitted anything. He approached the canvas-wrapped bundle on the floor and untied the cords holding it closed. As he unrolled it as gently as possible, he watched their faces for some sign of their recognition and guilt.
“The guards found her body in the middens this morning.”
To a one, they grimaced at the sight before them. He looked from one to the next as he explained.
“My brother’s handiwork, or his man Sigurd’s. He sent her to me to offer me pleasure, but I refused. I do not use children. When she begged me to kill her rather than make her face his displeasure, I took her to Gunnar for safety. Thorfinn must have found her there when he went to discuss the marriage contracts.”
He knelt down and pulled the canvas sheet back around the battered and bruised body, covering her from their sight. It mattered not, for he knew the memory of how the girl died would be with them forever and more so for him, as it was his failure to protect the girl that led to her death.
“This,” he said, pointing at the bundle as he rose to stand, “is the fate meant for Margriet Gunnarsdottir.”
“Nay!” cried the one who’d betrayed his trust. “He did not kill this girl.”
“Do not believe his lies, Magnus. You saw her. You saw the marks from his whips on her back and legs. He left his signet ring on to make certain I knew it was him.”
“Rurik,” Magnus began, but Rurik stopped him, dismissing the others before continuing.
“I care not that you chose my brother over me, but I will not stand by and let him do more harm to Margriet, Magnus.”
“He will not, Rurik. He said he’s pleased now that he will receive a huge dowry, for your father is adding to whatever Gunnar pays to make it worth his while.”
That was something he did not know. More money meant more reasons to make certain the marriage did not last very long. It meant Margriet was in even more danger than he first thought.
“You will not act against him even for her?”
“Our bond goes back years, Rurik. You would not understand. Thorfinn and I have both been displaced by…” Magnus paused then, realizing he probably did not want to finish his explanation.
“Bastard sons returned.” Rurik finished it for him.
It always came down to class. A bastard son, no matter how accomplished and brave, was never worthy enough for those born legitimately.
“I can do nothing to protect her, Magnus. I ask only that you inform me if you begin to suspect I might be correct. Simply send me word and I will see to her safety.”
Magnus did not agree, but he turned and, with a silent glance at the bundle on the floor between them, left the chamber. Rurik prayed that he had gotten through to the man he thought his childhood friend.
Days passed and Thorfinn wisely walked a wide path around him, not even appearing at meals or meetings. Gunnar remained at Erengisl’s side, but showed no enthusiasm for business or negotiating or any of the tasks that made him an asset to the earl. The cloud of dishonor would hang over his head until the marriage was accomplished and that would not happen for months.
Thorfinn had effectively neutered his most vocal opponent and Rurik knew it was but a
matter of time before his brother began to use his newfound strength of position to his advantage. Some of those recently vying for his favor now knocked at his brother’s door with their offers and gifts. Knowing that his own marriage would take him from these islands, these men were not fools and knew who would control things here after Erengisl.
Three weeks after Margriet’s disgrace had been exposed, Rurik returned to his chambers to find a one-word message left on his bed.
Now.
Chapter Twenty-One
The day had dawned clear, unlike so many lately, so Margriet begged leave to walk on the shore. She was not exactly a prisoner, but she not did have the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Her betrothed husband sent directions for her care and made it clear to the men and women left in charge of her the price for failure if anything happened to her.
She threw her cloak over her shoulders and walked to the ruins of the old church at the end of her father’s estate. The winds blew strong but not too cold yet, and she enjoyed the bite of it. When she reached the piles of rocks, for that was all that was left now of the circular church dedicated nearly two centuries ago to Saint Nicholas, she sat and let the sun beat down on her.
Her maid Brynja had been replaced by an older woman who did not like to walk and who began complaining within minutes of leaving the house. Margriet ignored her as long as possible because her walks were one of the few pleasures left now that her life had fallen apart. Oh, she did not downplay her part in her own failures, but she wondered if this was her penance or if it had not yet begun. On thinking about that question and about the real Thorfinn, who was only now showing himself to her, she thought it had not yet started.
Finally when the woman’s nagging ruined the beautiful day, Margriet turned and headed back to the house. She paused to watch some boats pass by close to shore. Seeing them now always made her wonder about Rurik.
She could not—nay, indeed, did not—blame him for the way things worked out. He’d been honest with her about his dreams and his need for the things his father offered him. And when the question was put to him, when he could have done more good by lying, he told the truth. He chose everything he’d wanted in his entire life over love.
Pushing her hair out of her face, she watched as the larger ship sailed on past the docks and a smaller one turned to maneuver into place there. It seemed like a lifetime ago when she’d arrived here to return to her father’s home, hoping to find compassion and the truth. Oh, she’d found the truth, but it was not what she had hoped for.
She did not matter.
Not to her father, who exiled her for ten years and then abandoned her when she caused his honor a blow.
Not to her betrothed, who only wanted the obscenely large dowry that Erengisl was providing to soothe the insult to his honor.
And not to the man she foolishly fell in love with.
That hurt the most, in spite of knowing he’d warned her of the choice he would make, and in spite of knowing that she’d damaged his pride and betrayed his trust, several times in just the short time since they’d met.
She sighed then, a signal to Aslief to begin complaining about her dawdling again. She turned and followed the path back to the house, knowing that one long day would lead to another and another, and nothing could change the situation.
She did not matter to the only man who mattered to her.
Margriet entered the house to find that visitors had arrived. Thorfinn and his men sat at her father’s table, drinking ale…and waiting for her. Confused by Magnus’s presence with them, she was just about to greet him when they stood and left, taking every servant with them. Then only she and Thorfinn remained and Margriet feared her penance had only just begun.
Rurik rode as though the devil was on his trail, when he knew that the devil he sought was already ahead of him. The message had been left while he’d been out seeing to his father’s business and now Thorfinn and his men had a two-hour advantage over him. Sven, Donald and Leathen rode with him, silent, all remembering the servant girl’s body and thinking of Margriet’s fate if they did not reach her in time.
No one complained. No one slowed their pace or asked to stop. No one voiced the fear that ate at their guts as they rode. Finally as the sun reached its highest point in the sky, they reached the hills beyond which lay Gunnar’s estates and Margriet.
With only a hand signal, they followed Rurik’s orders, dismounted and followed him on foot, leaving the horses hobbled in the field. They crawled the final hundred or so yards so they would not be seen. The house was surrounded by more guards than they expected and they were seriously outnumbered.
While they hurriedly planned their attack, a scream rang out…one they each recognized from when she’d fallen in the river on their journey there. Any hope of surprising those on guard fell at the sound of her terror.
With swords and daggers drawn, Rurik screamed out his own cry and led the men to the house.
“I will not stand here and let you murder my child, Thorfinn.”
Margriet wiped the blood that streamed down her face with the back of her hand and positioned herself now with her back to the wall. At least that way, she could see him coming at her.
He’d sent everyone out, except his man Sigurd, and then he’d tried to batter her down. She’d fought back, though not enough to keep him from bloodying her nose and mouth and landing a powerful blow on her back. He could have ended it much faster with a blade or sword, but he seemed to enjoy delivering the pain with his hands…and his feet. She’d dodged two kicks aimed at the babe in her belly before blocking herself behind the long table.
“I did not ask you to, Margriet. Truly I like the challenge of catching you before I beat it out of you.”
“Holy Mother of God!” she cried, still not believing that he was so evil as to do that. “Why?” she cried. “Why?”
When he grabbed hold of the table between them and shoved it aside, she knew he was. She still brandished the leg of a chair he’d thrown at her as she ran and hoped it would be strong enough to defend herself with. Margriet swung it as he approached, but he waited and grabbed it from her hands as it swung by him.
“I do not need that bastard at all and, now that your dowry is in my coffers, I need you less.”
She had no place to run now. He grabbed by the hair and dragged her to him. He raised his fist, but Magnus came running in. “Magnus! Help me!” she screamed to him.
“My lord, he is here.”
My lord? He called Thorfinn “lord” now? She struggled in his arms, trying to tear herself from him but she was lost against his superior strength.
“Sigurd, go and greet my brother,” he ordered. “I will finish here.” The brute bowed then to Thorfinn and left, heading, she knew, to kill Rurik.
“You will not get away with this, Thorfinn,” she said. “The servants know. Someone will tell my father. Or yours.”
He dragged her out away from the wall and tossed her on the floor. She tried to crawl to the door, but he feinted with kicks that kept her where he wanted her. “Did you not hear the warnings about the outlaws lately seen near the coast? They have been attacking some of the outlying cottages,” he said with a smile. “I did warn your father to assign extra men, but he did not heed my warning.”
He was about to make what she thought would be the killing attack, when Magnus stepped from the shadows and came up behind him. Thorfinn never saw the blow and fell in a crumpled heap at her feet.
“Come, lady. I must get you out of here,” he said, reaching for her and trying to help her to her feet.
She found she could not stand on her own and it took several minutes before she stood. Just as he began guiding her to the door, Thorfinn came to and jumped up behind Magnus.
“I think not, Magnus,” he said in deadly quiet as he plunged his dagger into the man’s back.
Margriet watched in horror as Magnus sank to his knees before her, blood pouring from his wound onto the floor. “Forgive me,
lady,” he begged. With his last bit of strength, Magnus waited until Thorfinn grabbed his shoulders to shove him out of the way and plunged his own dagger into Thorfinn’s chest. “Tell Rurik I served him at the last.”
Both men fell back and Margriet stayed hunched down on the floor. The sounds of fighting outside reached her, but she could not move. Curling up on the floor, she could feel herself slipping away when she heard a bloodcurdling scream.
Rurik was here and she knew she was safe now.
He sent for Gunnar once they’d fought their way in and found Margriet unconscious on the floor. His heart stopped in that moment when he saw the two men and all the blood, but she murmured a sound as he picked her up to take her away from this. Within a day, Gunnar arrived, put his house back to rights and arranged for Margriet’s care. Rurik discovered later that it had been her walk that saved her that day, for it was the delay he needed to catch up with Thorfinn.
And Magnus’s actions, as Margariet had related them, and his decision to turn against Thorfinn in those last moments, had contributed to her rescue.
The story that Thorfinn planned to use to cover her murder worked well for his own demise and Erengisl promised the other landowners along the coast that he would add additional guards to protect them from such marauders. If he suspected or guessed the real cause, he never spoke of it. Although it galled him that Thorfinn should be thought of as a hero for trying to defend his betrothed against an attack, Rurik could accept it since he was dead and would not be a threat to her again.
He spoke of the future to no one and did not burden Margriet with questions or declarations, but he knew what he had to do. After a month had passed and the documents for his marriage contract arrived to be signed, he went to see his father.
Surrender to the Highlander Page 20
