In that moment, too many thoughts were crossing to and fro in his mind to make any sense of her thinking in this. Truly, at that moment, he wondered how he ever thought her clear-minded. Instead of telling him the truth, that Elspeth was her companion, she'd lied in some ill-gotten plan to protect her virtue. It was incomprehensible.
No, it was just like a woman.
"Let us begin anew, here, Sister Margriet. Who is Elspeth?" He clenched his teeth together to keep from swearing and cursing the way he wanted to. Rurik feared that if he began, he would not stop, and they still needed to find Sven and the girl.
"Elspeth is the daughter of one of the landowners near the convent."
"A commoner?"
"Aye."
"Betrothed?"
"Nay."
"Taken vows of any kind in the convent?"
"Nay."
"Intending to stay with you in Orkney?"
"Well, I do not intend to stay in the Orkneys, Rurik. I am only returning long enough to convince my father to give me leave to … "
He knew her concise answers could not continue forever, but he held his hand up to stop her. "Did she intend to stay with you in the Orkneys?"
She sighed then and nodded her head. "I promised her a place in my father's household if she wanted it and a chance to make a good match."
He stood then, unable to sit any longer. If he had known this, he could have prevented trouble. "Did she say anything about Sven to you? Last night?"
A blush crept up her cheeks, making it obvious that the girl had told her something. Something she thought able to manage on her own. Instead she'd ended up drugged and sleeping while the two crept away at some time in the night.
"She claimed he loved her."
"Did he say that?"
"Does any man?"
He slammed his fist down at that comment, loud enough to draw Thora from the kitchen. Sister Margriet waved her away before he could yell or threaten and they were alone yet again.
"What did you tell her last night … when she told you he loved her?"
"She said Sven loved her, not that he had declared it in any way."
Was it possible for a man's head to explode atop his shoulders? Rurik felt as though his would at any moment. "And you said what?"
"Rurik, we both saw them after the fight. We both know that she is not of the same standing as he, that her place would be as a servant in his house or a leman in his bed. That nun's habit was the only thing standing between Sven and her … virtue."
'Twas the truth, as much as he'd like to argue against it. Still, if Sven thought her a nun, he would not dishonor her. If he thought her of the lower class, then …
"You see, do you not?" Margriet asked with a smugness in her voice that spoke of being right.
"But did he think her a nun when they left?" he fired back.
Her silence was not nearly as satisfying as he'd hoped. And when he noticed the tears gathering, he felt like the worst of villains.
"'Tis all my fault," she whispered. "I told her it would work. I told her she would be safe until we reached my father's house. That she could tell him the truth and learn how it stood between them. Now … now … "
Her blubbering could not have shocked him more if she'd stood naked while doing it. Nay, that was the wrong image to take to mind while blaming another man for doing exactly what he'd done.
Coveting a nun.
Falling in love with a woman denied to him for many reasons.
When the tears began to fall, he did what he'd seen Connor do many times to soothe Jocelyn-he moved closer, put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. God Almighty, it felt good to hold her close and comfort her. A few minutes passed and she quieted against him. Reluctant to let the moment go and yet knowing he must, he leaned away and waited for her to regain control.
"Do you have any idea of where they might have gone?" he asked quietly. "Does she have family anywhere?"
Sister Margriet dabbed her eyes as she shook her head. "None that I ken." She sniffled then. "Would he offer her marriage? Would his family allow it?"
"He might wish to, but unless there was something of benefit, they would not permit him to marry so far beneath them."
As far beneath him as Margriet was beneath his own standing. In Sven's situation, wealth or connections could make the difference, but the girl had neither.
"Should we not follow them? Mayhap if we reach them in time … " She paused and her bleak eyes said she did comprehend the truth of it, no matter what her soft heart wanted to believe.
"I cannot follow them unless you are safe, and this would seem to be the safest place for you to wait." He looked around at the worn-down building. "Well, once we have word of their direction, and I suspect they travel on ahead of us, we can get on the road, too." He stood now and looked out the small window to the place where his men gathered. Rurik would need to tell them something.
"I would go speak to the men, give them some story about what has happened."
"Do they know? Did Sven confess anything to Magnus or one of the others?" She stood now, and smoothed her hands down the coarse tunic.
"I spoke to Magnus, who was shocked by this. He saw … they all saw her display yesterday, but thought she was overwrought from being ill and from Sven's kindness to her then. None expected this."
He opened the door and followed her into the yard next to the inn. The horses were gathered, packed with supplies and ready to ride. A pile of discarded sacks lay nearby, from the horses whose riders now needed speed to catch the couple. As he calculated, those horses would need to rest before they could travel north, so they would lose another day. One day, if Sven took her toward the islands, more if he rode in any other direction.
She waited by the door of the inn, while he spoke to the two groups, Scots and Northerners, offering no explanation but that the couple was gone without word and ordering that no assumptions be made until they were found. A word to Donald and Leathen separately assured that they would not share the revelation they'd heard about Elspeth with any of the others.
Rurik felt guilty in not sharing the information with Magnus, but something held him back. He wondered if Sven's disappearance was part of something else, for something had dogged their path since the first letter from his father. Each time arrangements were made, they needed to be changed for some reason or another. Then, when they were making good time, the illness hit. Now this. An uneasy feeling tickled his thoughts, but he could not see the whole scheme yet.
The day passed slowly and when the noon meal was offered, no one felt like eating. Later in the day, he allowed Donald and Leathen to take Sister Margriet to walk along the river, with a special warning about her clumsiness where water was concerned. The glare he got for that made him smile. If she was angry at him, mayhap she would not worry so much about the girl.
'Twas nigh on sunset when three of the four searching groups returned as ordered after finding no sign of the couple. As he suspected, Sven was heading home. The arrival of one of the final two men sent out this morn only confirmed it. The problem was that they were now separated by a day in time and distance and that would grow to be more with each passing day.
For it was easier for two people to travel faster than the group under his command. He hoped that the man tracking them could stay close enough and keep watch until they met up again, most likely in Thurso. As he was checking the inn for the final time and taking his place at the bottom of the stairs, Rurik was struck by the feeling that he was being led into a trap.
By whom or for what reason, he knew not. But years of fighting and watching his back taught him not to ignore such things. His life and the lives of those he guarded had been protected when he listened to the warnings from within. He would not begin to ignore them now.
The next week moved forward at an agonizing pace, for the weather turned bad and hampered their journey every day. Because the winds and rain came every day, they could only ride several hours instead of most of the day. Margriet still instructed the men in Norn and Gaelic as they rode, but her joy in it seemed diminished now. Margriet seemed a different person, still blaming herself for Elspeth's disappearance.
The next problem was her health and, although the stomach ailment of the first days did not return, she was exhausted by midday and could not stay upright on her mount. Because there was no other way to continue on, or so he told himself, he began carrying her on his horse, first riding pillion and then, after she nearly fell off when sleep overtook her, held in front of him. She argued the first time she woke in his arms, wrapped and kept dry and warm in the length of tartan wool he'd brought from the MacLeries, but soon even she seemed to accept it.