They began walking back toward the inn and, when Margriet stumbled over the edges of her sodden tunic and gown for the third time, he stopped, scooped her up into his arms and continued on. The one good thing that their dunking had done was cool his ardor at the moment. Any inkling of it returning was continually doused by the stream of icy water pouring down over the lower half of his body from her garments with each step he took.
When they arrived back at the inn, the men had finished eating and most were readying for sleep. The tables were pushed to the walls of the room, the benches turned over on top of them, and blankets were being spread as each man picked a spot on the packed dirt floor. Rurik quickly checked to see if all were present and noted that two men were not. He did not have to ask Sven where they were, he only hoped that the nuns did not notice.
Now following Harald, Rurik carried Margriet up the stairs and down the short hallway to the sleeping room that she would share with Sister Elspeth. The younger nun stood waiting just inside by the door, while Heinrek guarded in the hallway. When he placed Margriet on her feet, Sister Elspeth waved them out of the room and tended to her alone.
Thankfulness for his escape from the chamber lasted only until he saw the expressions on Sven's and Magnus's faces. 'Twas obvious what they were thinking and Rurik was tempted to disabuse them by force. Then he thought better of it. He accepted his scabbard back and after settling it back on his hips, he crossed his arms over his chest in a challenge to them to question his word and honor-if they dared.
He offered only one explanation to them as he pushed past them to go downstairs and make arrangements for the nuns' comfort.
"She slipped."
The silence grew behind him and Rurik thought his escape good until Sven's whisper reached him.
"Puir wee woman."
Puir wee woman indeed, he thought as he went to see to her food. He found Harald's wife hurrying around the kitchen, gathering bread, meat, some cheese and broth onto a tray to take to the sisters. The other two women were, as he expected, not to be seen, although in the scattered moments of quiet as he watched the preparations, they could be heard.
"Sister Margriet will have need of a sewing needle and thread to repair her garments," he mentioned.
"I will do that," Thora offered. "'Tis the least I can do for her after the way Ragna and Morag chased them out with their brazen ways." Thora threw a look at Harald, who bowed his head and said not a thing in reply. However, he wore the appearance of a man thoroughly chastened for his misdeeds.
Rurik followed Thora back to the chamber and waited while she delivered the tray within. He could hear the women exchanging words, but could not make out what was being said. Soon, the door opened and Thora stepped out carrying the habit in her hands, making certain to hold it away from herself as it still dripped. She talked under her breath as she left, connecting names, fates and a few curses, too. Another set of clothing that matched the wet one in color and texture-but this one dry-was tucked under her arm.
"I promised the holy sisters that I would wash and repair their garments as penance for what they were forced to see here," Thora said, while blessing herself with her free hand. "What is your penance for allowing it?" she asked, passing him by without waiting for his answer.
The woman had no idea of the price he was paying for what had happened. His punishment was indeed a high price, for it was the realization that there was a woman he could want and not have. Rurik shook his head as he waved Heinrek away and took up a position near the door. He would take a watch tonight, sleeping outside their door to make certain nothing untoward happened. Well, nothing else untoward.
Rurik knocked softly on the door and waited for their response. 'Twas Sister Elspeth who answered his call.
"Have you need of anything else, Sister?"
"No, sir."
"Is Sister Margriet well?" Rurik leaned his head against the door as he asked, thinking once more of what had happened and what had almost happened between them this night.
"She is, sir."
"Until morn then," he said. He waited for any other word or sound, but when none came, Rurik stepped away and took a stance between their door and the hallway.
He heard some movement over the next half of an hour within the chamber, but nothing spoken. Then, those inside quieted and he knew they were abed. Sliding down against the wall, he sat on the floor and waited in the darkened corridor for night to pass.
Sometime later-Rurik was not certain how much time had passed-he heard the soft sound of a woman crying. It hurt to hear it, especially since he knew it was Margriet. He accepted the pain as another part of his penance this night. When it ceased and the room grew quiet once more, he climbed to his feet and went to the door.
After listening for any sounds inside, he lifted the latch quietly and opened the door a crack. The faint light from a slow-burning tallow lamp threw shadows across the room, but it was enough for him to see around the room.
Two shapes lay side by side in the bed, neither moving as he crept in and walked to the side of it. Sister Elspeth slept in a huddled lump, blankets pulled up so that only the top of her head was visible above them. Margriet slept with wild abandon.
Her blanket was thrown back, exposing the chemise she wore as nightclothes. She slept with one leg under the blankets and the other uncovered. Her hair, now dry and laying in waves of curls about her head, caught the light of the candle and seemed to be a gathering of the darkest storm clouds around her face. As Rurik stepped closer, he noticed the tracks of tears marring her cheeks.
Torn between simply watching her sleep and waking her to beg her forgiveness for his near-assault, the sigh that escaped her caught him by surprise. He stood completely still as she mumbled words under her breath and turned on her side toward him. Tucking one hand under her head, she settled back into a deeper sleep.
The chamber quieted again with Sister Elspeth's soft snoring the only noise now. Rurik checked the small hearth and added a few more blocks of peat to add some warmth to the room. He checked the small windows to see that the shutters were secured against the wind that was building outside and then walked to the door. With a final look at Margriet, he left and took his place outside the door for the rest of the night.
A knock on the door woke her, but Margriet hesitated to answer it. From the light that forced its way in around the wooden shutters on the windows, she could tell the sun had risen some time ago. Wondering at the laziness of her escorts, she pushed back her blankets and crept to the door. The knock came again, but this time Thora called her name softly. Tugging one of the blankets free, she gathered her hair and tucked it under her chemise as she wrapped the length of wool around her shoulders.
She lifted the latch and opened the door to find the innkeeper's wife standing with her hands filled. Taking the tray from her, Margriet stood back and allowed her inside. Leaning over, she peered into the hallway, looking for Rurik and not finding him. Thora laid the two gowns and tunics over a bench and then turned to Margriet.
"He said to ready yerselves for the day. He said he wants to leave wi'in the hour." Thora snorted then to let Margriet know exactly what the woman thought about him.
"My thanks for your work on this," Margriet said as she lifted her gown and inspected the neat sewing that reattached the seam where it had split apart. "And for putting more peat on the fire during the night. I felt the chill, but could not rouse myself to get out of bed to do that." She pulled the blanket tightly around her shoulders.
Thora stared at her and shook her head. "I didna do any such thing. He ordered us away from the stairs and e'en took a place outside yer door to make certain ye werena disturbed."
Margriet looked at the open door and wondered if Rurik had stirred the fire in the dark of the night to keep them warm. Before she could think on it, Thora approached.
"If ye dinna mind me asking, Sister?" When Margriet did not object, Thora went on. "Why is it that two holy sisters-" she paused then to make the sign of the cross and bow her head "-travel with such a man?"
Margriet sighed. "My father calls me home and Rurik was sent to escort me."
"He is a strong one, he is, and ye willna have to worry aboot yer safety wi'him guarding ye. But, I have never heard of holy sisters-" another pause, another sign of the cross "-traveling with a group of men."