Surrender to the Highlander(Terri Brisbin)(37)

       
           



       

He walked toward her in the way he always carried himself, like a  wildcat, poised to lunge at any moment and overpower his prey. He  smiled, his eyes catching the lights of the many candles that lit the  chamber and his mouth curving into an attractive bow, as he stopped  before her. Bowing to the countess first, Rurik then turned to her.

"You look well, Margriet," he said.

She lost her ability to speak then. If she'd thought him pleasing in  looks as a warrior, screaming out his name at the convent gates or as a  protector when he dove into the water to save her, his appearance now as  the nobleman's son was even more so. The tunic was tailored to fit  closely and it gave a hint to anyone noticing of the powerful chest  beneath it. She knew the look and the feel of that chest.

"Lord Rurik, how goes it?" her father asked.

Giving herself a moment to recover from her surprise at seeing him this  soon and from her shallow appraisal of his form, Margriet sipped the  wine in the cup and listened to her father question Rurik about his  arrival here and his reception so far.

"My father has given me many tasks in this last day, Gunnar, and I  confess I have been waiting for your arrival." He turned his gaze on her  and added, "I fear I will have need of your father's counsel in these  next days and weeks, Margriet."

No longer did he address her as "lady." She noticed the difference now  as a recognition of their differences in standing-he, though  bastard-born, now stood above her as daughter of a counselor and  landowner. Publicly granted status by his father as one of his heirs,  Rurik would be called "lord" by all beneath him.

"He is eager to serve you, Lord Rurik, and has spoken of nothing else to me on our journey here."

She tried, she truly tried not to let sarcasm into her voice, but when  he lifted his left eyebrow at her answer, Margriet feared she was not  successful. Apparently both her father and the countess sensed that they  needed to speak and both fled with excuses of other necessary  conversations.

"We should talk, Margriet," he said once they were alone.

"As you wish, Lord Rurik," she answered.

"Margriet, I can explain this … " he began and then stopped when he saw  others coming closer to them. Apparently her connection to Lord Rurik  and the knowledge that they traveled together from Caithness was now  fodder for the gossip that flowed like life's blood through any  household.

"Of course, Lord Rurik," she said. She knew he was uncomfortable, but, damn him! he deserved it for lying to her.

He clenched his teeth together and whispered, "Not here. Not now." Then his father approached and she nodded.

"Rurik has told us how you saved his men with your knowledge, Margriet."

"He should be thanking the holy sisters at the convent, my lord. They taught me their healing ways."

"And their modesty as well, 'twould seem." The earl offered the compliment seamlessly and she smiled at his easy manner.

"You honor me, my lord," she answered.

Unfortunately, with the earl's approach and continued questions about  her journey and her life at the convent, Rurik found the opportunity to  escape. As the evening progressed, they seemed to circle each other, but  never did the opportunity to speak come again. When she saw him excuse  himself to his father and the countess, Margriet knew it was the chance  she needed.

Begging leave from her father and receiving permission from the countess  to retire for the night, she left the earl's chambers and ran down the  stairs to the main floor. She caught sight of him just as he entered the  other tower, where his rooms must be. Following quietly, Margriet  reached the stairs when he stepped out in front of her.

"Why are you following me?" he asked, taking her arm and pulling her into the shadows of the stairway.

"You said we should speak, Lord Rurik. I but obeyed your command."

"Come," he said, shaking his head as though not certain he should.

He looked over her head and raised a finger to his lips, cautioning her  to quiet. The sound of footsteps somewhere behind her trailed off and  then there was silence. Rurik took her hand and led her up to the second  landing. Once there, he guided her to his chambers. When the door  closed, he faced her.                       
       
           



       

"So, Rurik, Erengisl's son, 'twould appear that you kept secrets, too."

His gaze went to her belly and she put her hand there on the growing  swell of it. Instead of reacting in anger at her challenge, he sighed  and walked to the window. Staring out, the stark wanting in his voice  when he spoke startled her.

"Have you ever wanted something so much that it was like a hunger in  your belly, Margriet?" He paused, but she knew he did not want an  answer. "And you were willing to give up everything you had and pay any  price for that which you craved?"

He could not have known that he described her seemingly starving need  for love and the consequences of being so needy. Yet, his words  confirmed every emotion in her during those last years at the  convent-wanting to belong and be wanted and be needed … and be loved.

"I lived here before. Here and at the earl's castles in Sweden and his  estates in Norway. Wealth was never a question when I was a child.  Bastard-born or not, Lord Erengisl provided for my mother and me. Any  request was granted. Any possession bought or given us." He glanced at  her then, for a moment and then away again. "But what I wanted more than  any of the things was his acceptance and his name," Rurik said.

And his love, she added silently, knowing now that they both wanted and needed the very same thing.

"When my father banished us," he continued, "I lost it all and, even  though the MacLeries welcomed me, the longing never went away."

"And now you have a chance to claim all that you have ever wanted?" she asked, already knowing his answer.

His eyes were bleak when he faced her now and as he walked toward her, she could feel the terrible choice he needed to make.

"He's been watching me all this time. Watching and waiting to see if I  am the kind of man he can leave in his stead, Margriet. His summons,  even if at your father's urging, meant he believes in me. The answer is  aye, I am worthy."

"Rurik, you were always worthy," she began to argue.

"Your words cannot change my past, my beginning," he said, a sad smile  flitting across his features, softening them for a moment and revealing a  vulnerability she'd not seen before in him. "In many ways, I think you  were the last test for me."

"How so? Do you think I am in league with your father? That I was sent  to tempt you from all you desire?" She was offended by his words, but  then realized he did not mean that she intentionally tested him.

"Oh, I think you are temptation in its purest form, lady, and I think  the Fates sent you to me. They gave me one last reason to turn from my  destiny, and gave me the best one last."

Pain shot through her as she came to understand that they were not the  same after all-love meant all to her and nothing to him. She needed to  leave before she embarrassed herself and begged him for his love as  she'd begged Finn. No matter his answer, it could not give her what she  sought much as he sought his fortune and future here. Neither outcome  would be the right one. Margriet grasped the latch on the door and  lifted it, her hands unsteady as she opened it.

"And I thought we were the same, Rurik, but now I see how very different  we are after all." She leaned her forehead against the door and  whispered the rest. "You have love in your grasp and would sacrifice it  for everything you desire and I sacrificed everything for the love I  thought within mine. I just know not which of us was the bigger fool."

"Margriet, I am sorry," he said from behind her. "I cannot … I cannot … "

She held her hand up to stop him. The excuse mattered not, only his  answer to her unspoken question. And now she had it. The rest of her  journey would be alone, she knew that now. Finn was like some figment of  her imagination, making her face her weakness and leaving her with the  consequences.

"You should speak to your father soon," he said. "Before anyone tells him. Gunnar is an honorable man and will help you."

That moment was not one when he should be offering advice, especially  when it was about how she would live without him. Margriet ran out of  his chambers and down the steps, turning into the great hall … and  slamming right into someone. The man grabbed hold of her shoulders and  kept her from stumbling to the floor.