Page 20 of Surrender to the Highlander (The MacLerie Clan #2)

T he quiet that had reigned in his father’s chambers now broke as Thorfinn chuckled and Rurik was seized with the urge to go after him again. And he would have, had not the guards taken up their positions when Gunnar returned.

The man’s face was like stone, hard and gray, as he approached his brother with the accusation. However, the expression that no one seemed to notice but him was Margriet’s. For as Gunnar called her “girl” and not daughter, she crumbled.

He turned away now, trying to figure out Thorfinn’s motives in ruining Gunnar and his daughter, and could think of none. He did not doubt that the journey to visit his father’s kin was deliberate and meant to offer him the chance to “find” her. And remembering how deceitful he was as a child, turning from vicious to fair when in his father’s view, he also did not doubt that he had seduced her with soft words and promises.

As she’d told him, or tried to tell him, and he would not listen.

Thorfinn shrugged in response. “It could be mine or it could be any man she swived before or after me, Gunnar.”

Everyone was so intent on his words, they never noticed Margriet leave the alcove. Rurik watched now as she staggered over to Thorfinn. “That is a lie. Lord Erengisl…Father…I was pure…untouched before I laid with Thorfinn.”

“Pure, Margriet? Untouched? Do you mean like a nun would be? The kind of nun you pretended to be on your journey home to cover your secret as long as you could?”

Somehow, Thorfinn managed to take a grain of truth in everything he described and twist it into something else completely. Rurik was done with this now, and called out. “Father, let me explain.”

When the guards did not release him fast enough, he broke their hold and tossed them aside. Instead of heading for his brother, he walked to his father’s side and spoke directly to him.

“She thought only to protect herself and her young maid on the journey. The lady was among strangers and sought the shelter a religious habit would give them until she felt safe. Even the reverend mother from her convent sanctioned her action.”

“The reverend mother knew your reasons for pretending?” Erengisl asked her.

Margriet wavered in her answer. “She knew I needed protection, my lord.”

Rurik knew Thorfinn would grab on to any prevarication and use it. He closed his eyes and prayed she would admit the truth so Thorfinn could not make use of it against her.

“But she did not know I was carrying a child.”

“And you claim the child is Thorfinn’s?” Erengisl asked her quietly.

Rurik turned and watched as she spoke the words. “Aye, my lord. He fathered the child I bear.”

As though all her strength left her, she stumbled then. Gunnar reached out to steady her, but then drew away and she was left to her own means then. He could not stand to watch her struggle any longer and since Gunnar had abandoned her, Rurik went to her side, holding her up with his arm around her waist.

“You deny the child is yours, Thorfinn?” their father asked. Now that he held on to Margriet, the sad excuse for a man felt safe enough to leave his chair.

“It could be, Father. It could be any man who passed through that area and who had a few coins to spare.”

He held her fast, whether to keep himself or her from attacking his brother, he knew not, but either way, Thorfinn was safe for the moment.

“I can see that you do not believe me, but ask my brother. Ask him if he knew she was breeding. Ask him if they did not act like two dogs in heat during their journey, he sniffing at her while she opened her legs for him. For all I know, it could be his bastard she breeds in her belly and not mine at all.”

Rurik said nothing, but Thorfinn pressed on this issue.

“Did you lay with her? Could it be yours?”

Oh, he was good at this, Rurik thought, but he could not lie in this regard. “Nay, I did not.”

He must have spent many hours weaving the lies so he was ready when the opportunity arose. Margriet sagged against Rurik and he could tell she was weakening.

“You have woven quite a tale, Thorfinn. A master weaver to be sure,” he said. “You make claims you cannot prove to ruin her. But why? Why play this hand at all?” Rurik thought to force him to the truth, but he felt the trap spring as he asked the question.

“To the contrary, Brother, I would take her to wife and clean the stain from her honor if she would have me. I know how much a trusted friend Gunnar is to our father and would marry her if he wished me to do so.”

He felt and heard Margriet’s gasp at Thorfinn’s words. He was certain, from even the little she had told him, that she’d loved the man he pretended to be when he seduced her. Now though, seeing the true man behind the mask, she would never consent.

“You seem so convinced that I lie about her behavior, making your own accusations against me. Mayhap you would like the chance to save her from dishonor and marry her yourself, even though you have said it is not your child?”

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.