The storm outside called to him and he ignored Sven's words as he passed him at the bottom of the stairs. Sister Elspeth would stay with Sister Margriet now that she was awake and, once the traveling party had regained their strength, they would leave for the north. Rurik strode to the door of the inn and opened it, walking out into the torrents of water and wind.
Mayhap he would be cleansed of his sins by the power of the storm? Mayhap the rains would wash away the desire that even now pulsed through him for her and sluice away the ache that built stronger with each breath he took for not having her in his life?
Rurik walked for as long as he could, as long as the winds howled and the rains poured down, hoping for an easement of his pain. When he found himself below her window as the clouds rumbled above him, he knew it would take more than that. He leaned against the side of the inn and slid down to sit there. And when dawn broke the next morning, he was still there.
Margriet struggled from the bed and staggered to the window just in time to see him walk away into the storm. The light that escaped from the inn's door shone on him until someone slammed it against the storm.
She should feel relief now that his attentions would stop, but she did not. She should be pleased that one less problem would follow her north and encumber any reconciliation she would have with her father and with Finn when she found him, but she was not. She should sense a clearer future now that the question of any involvement between them was answered, but she did not.
Instead, the rains outside covered the sounds of her sobs and the tears that poured down her cheeks. She stood, clutching the edge of the window, and watched him disappear into the downpour. 'Twas only Elspeth's assistance, when she arrived, that helped her manage the walk back to the bed.
After lying down, she tried to think on why this hurt so much. She certainly did not want him, for she'd learned that lesson only too well. Nor could she marry him, for she carried another man's bairn and her father would never permit it even if that were not the impediment. She certainly did not love him, for … there were so many reasons why she did not, could not, would not love him.
But lying there, as he left, she could think of none. And the pain in her heart told her that mayhap …
"Lady Margriet?" Elspeth said. Margriet wiped her eyes and looked at the girl. "Are you well?" She nodded. "And the bairn?" Another nod. "I was so worried for you when Sven told me how sick you were."
"Sven told you?"
"He is learning quickly," the girl said, a hint of a smile curving her mouth. "In truth, 'twas the other who said it and Sven repeated it."
"Rurik?"
"Aye." Elspeth nodded as she removed the head coverings and then lifted the tunic over her head. "Some of us were just waking when he found you. Lady, the way he screamed your name sent shivers down my spine." Elspeth shuddered again then. "Truly, I thought you must be dead."
"He was simply following my father's orders to keep me safe, Elspeth. Do not make more of it than that."
Elspeth's eyes grew wide and she shook her head as she unlaced her gown. "Nay, lady. He howled as though in pain himself, like a wolf that has lost their mate."
The girl looked at her and nodded now. "Leathen and Donald were surprised by it, for they said that Rurik goes from one woman to the next spreading his seed as a bee flits from flower to flower making … " Color crept into Elspeth's cheeks as she realized what she said. And to whom she said it.
"They spoke of such things to you?"
"Oh, nay, lady." She shook her head again and came to sit on the bed. "I overheard them when they did not know I was awake. They believe me a nun, and you, too, and would never speak of flitting to us."
"You must tell me if they are disrespectful, Elspeth. We must keep up our pretense." At the girl's frown, she added, "Keep up our disguise until we reach my father."
Margriet felt sleep's grasp grow stronger, even though she had slept for nearly two days straight. Thora's promised return with food was still to come, so mayhap talking would keep her awake. The thought of learning more about Rurik made her fight to remain so.
"Did you hear anything else about him? About Rurik?"
"Donald and Leathen told one of the others of how Rurik tried to tup his laird's wife when he first met her."
She gasped, shocked that he would be guilty of such a thing until she remembered his words to her.
I have lived the last thirteen years seeking pleasure where it may be, and have never met a woman I wanted who I could not have until you.
"And the laird did not kill him for such an insult?" Margriet still could not believe it true, for there must be more to the story. "I cannot believe my father would trust me in the care of a man who would … " She tried to say the words, but couldn't.
"Tup any woman who would spread her legs for him?"
Although Elspeth repeated the vulgar words obviously spoken by one of the men, she seemed to surprise even herself for she clapped her hands over her mouth as she finished saying them. "Forgive me, lady, I should not have repeated such things to you."
Margriet was completely and utterly confused now. Would she ever understand how men thought? Or why they did what they did? Just a short while ago, she would have been willing to gamble her father's fortune that Rurik had some deeper feelings for her. She would have sworn on God's Holy Bible that he was going to pledge that love to her before she stopped him. Now, she wondered if it was all nothing more than a way to batter her defenses down.
Elspeth must have known how her words bothered Margriet, for the girl grew quiet and prepared herself for sleep. Thoughts and fears and questions swirled inside her mind as she tried to do the same, but it was a long time before rest was granted to her that night.
And when it came, it was pierced with nightmares that terrified her and she awoke several times to her own choking screams. Elspeth shook her several times to wake her from terror's grip, and when morning did break, Margriet could swear she'd slept not a wink.
Thora's arrival brought a tray and the news that he said they were granted another day of rest. Apparently more storms were on the way and would hamper any good progress north. Margriet found her appetite restored and her strength rebounding after her collapse. When the sun forced its way through a break in the clouds late in the morning, she thought she might go for a short walk. After being reassured that Morag and Ragna had gone off to visit kin in another town for several days, she felt up to it. And so, with Elspeth in tow and Donald at their backs, they ventured out to explore the small village until the rains chased them inside again.
Chapter Twelve
"No church, Sister."
"Who cares for your immortal souls then?" she asked.
Margriet had thought to escape the inn, but Thora insisted on asking her all kinds of questions about the convent where they came from and her father's call home. Thinking to distract the woman long enough to get out, she moved toward the door.
"A priest usually travels through here about two times a year, spring and autumn, to bless the graves or baptize the newly born."
"And mass?" she asked, lifting the latch of the door and holding it open. "Surely, you hear mass more than that?"
Thora stopped at that, the blush in her cheeks revealing that she did not want to admit to such a thing. Harald called her from the kitchen and the woman excused herself to answer his call, leaving the nuns on their own.
Margriet made her escape as well, turning her face into the breezes that buffeted them along and promised more rain soon. For now, though, she and Elspeth, and Donald, walked down the worn paths of the village, and discovered that it was bigger than she first thought. They had traveled in from the south and headed out to the northeast, following the river's path. But, the village was not boxed in by the river and had expanded to the other bank. A small wooden bridge connected the two halves over the rushing water. They had just crossed the bridge when the shouting began.
Donald tried to guide them back to the inn, but Margriet wanted to see what was happening in the field next to the smithy's workshop. Following the noise and the growing crowd, she stopped and gasped at the sight before her eyes.
Sven and Magnus and Rurik, all stripped to the waist, fought each other at the same time. She'd never seen anything like it, she truly did not remember ever seeing men fight with swords, and she watched as they turned one on the other and then back against the third. The clashing of the metal against metal rang out loudly and made her wince with each blow delivered. And they did not limit themselves to only the blows of swords.