Behind the Mask (108 page)

“And to be free,” Cameron said.

“And to be free,” Gerhard echoed. Then he added, “And to see my daughter in such circumstances. It is a dream come true for me.”

“And for me,” Cameron said, smiling at her.

Abbi made no comment.

Throughout the following days, Cameron became especially busy with running a country, while Abbi was given a different level of tutelage in her position from a woman’s perspective. Magda and Lena were kind and tactfully informative, and at the same time a pleasure to be with. Abbi was also guided by servants who had spent their lives committed to caring for royalty. They too were kind, but they treated Abbi with a deference that felt rigid and unnecessary. While Elsa would always work closest with Abbi, Bruna was next in line, always available to meet any possible need. She had been explicitly trained in every protocol and policy related to the duchess’s position, and had worked with Gwendolyn du Woernig for years prior to her death. In the absence of a duchess, Bruna and those who worked with her had been given trivial assignments elsewhere, anticipating the marriage of Nikolaus. Elsa confided to Abbi that the other servants were deeply relieved with the change in command and the opportunity to work with Abbi, who already had a reputation for being kind and humble—as opposed to the woman Nikolaus would have married, who had been well known for her arrogance and rudeness.

Abbi was amazed to realize there was a woman specifically employed to care for the duchess’s wardrobe, and another to keep her every belonging in perfect cleanliness and order. And another still who was there to simply assist in any necessary way. With five women on hand to see to the needs of the duchess, it was impossible that one of them would not be available at a moment’s notice to see to Abbi’s any possible whim. They all proved to be pleasant and even compassionate to Abbi’s discomfort, while they gently guided her through every aspect of her duties from a woman’s perspective. Abbi appreciated their insight, their help, and their commitment. And she told them so. But she also told them that, in many respects, she was accustomed to taking care of herself and preferred it that way. Bruna told her that though these women would be on hand if they were needed, they were very good at keeping their distance and remaining invisible. Abbi liked that, but she still felt disconcerted by the reality. While Cameron daily became more comfortable with his job, Abbi became more intimidated by her own. But she kept trying to convince herself that she would adjust with time, and as long as Cameron’s love for her remained firm, she knew she could do anything.

On a cold, rainy morning she shared an early breakfast with her husband in their room, loving these moments alone with him, when she could pretend that everything was the way it used to be. She reached across the table to touch his freshly shaven face. He told her how he loved her as he stood and leaned over to kiss her before moving toward the door.

“Oh, by the way,” he said, “tomorrow evening we’re having a little social thing. Elsa will know what you need to wear and all that.”

“What
kind
of social?” Abbi asked, wishing it hadn’t sounded so panicked.

“It’s nothing to be concerned about.” Cameron smiled and stepped back to take her hands. “It’s dinner and socializing with the people I work with, to celebrate our return to power.”

“You mean
your
return to power.”

“With you by my side,” he said firmly. Cameron omitted that the true purpose of this gathering, according to tradition, was to honor the crowning of a new duchess by those who served the country in the highest positions. He felt it was better to keep that fact out; she would likely never know the difference and be less nervous over the event.

“What do I have to do?” she asked.

“Nothing but be there, and be yourself,” he said with calm assurance.

“But . . . I don’t know these people’s names, and . . .”

“Abbi, you don’t have to know their names. If you even say hello to them, they will feel honored.” She made a disgruntled noise and turned away from him. He put his hands on her shoulders and said gently, “There’s no need for concern. You’ll do beautifully. Trust me. I’ll be by your side every minute.”

Abbi reminded herself not to be so disagreeable. “Forgive me,” she said. “Who exactly are these people . . . who work closest with you?”

“The committee of national security, the advisory council, and the highest ranking officers. Only sixty or seventy people; not too significant.”

“Sixty or seventy?” she echoed. “Is that your definition of a
little
social?

“It includes their wives, of course.”

“Of course,” Abbi said, trying to quell her nerves.

“At least for the ones who are married. Some will bring a companion.” He chuckled. “The captain, for instance, has a reputation for being the most highly sought after bachelor in the country.”

Abbi looked at him sharply. “I don’t know if I find that funny or not.”

“He
does,” Cameron chuckled.

“And who will be
his
companion?” she asked, wishing she didn’t feel responsible for his being a bachelor.

“Magda, I believe. They do well at keeping each other company at such things.”

“Are they . . .”

“Romantic? No. Never. They’re like brother and sister.”

“Like me and Georg.”

“Very much, yes.”

“You all grew up together.”

“Yes, we did.” He kissed her hand. “You will be magnificent, Abbi. There is nothing to be concerned about. I promise.” He moved toward the door and added, “Oh, and your father is coming; bringing your aunts, I believe.”

Abbi sighed loudly, wondering if she preferred being a spectacle to people she knew or to strangers. Cameron hurried off to see to his work, and she tried to think about something else.

When it came time to get ready for the social, Abbi was grateful to know that Elsa had been instructed on how to help her prepare. Sitting at the elaborate dressing table, wearing her underclothing while Elsa worked on her hair, Abbi contemplated the women who had occupied this seat before her. She didn’t feel intimidated by Gwendolyn. She knew too much about her weaknesses to care about following in her footsteps. But she wondered about Cameron’s mother, his grandmother, and great-grandmother. What had they been like? Would they be disappointed in his choice of a duchess?

“We need to put the crown on now,” Elsa said, bringing her from her thoughts, “so I can work your hair around it in the back.”

“The crown?” she said, as if it were in a foreign language.

“His Grace told me it was expected this evening,” Elsa explained.

“Must I wear it at every social?”

“No,” she said. “But apparently it’s appropriate for this one.”

“Very well,” Abbi said, and Elsa took the crown out of the intricately carved box where it resided.

“You’re supposed to kneel,” Elsa said. Abbi was too astonished to comment. Elsa’s education on the proper protocol became evident when she instructed gently, “Whenever the crown is placed on your head, you are supposed to kneel, and you are never supposed to put it on yourself. Someone else who has been given the authority must do it.”

“And you have been given that authority?”

“I have,” Elsa said with a reverence that left Abbi wishing she could have been privy to the instruction she’d received. Somehow this had been overlooked in her own tutelage. But then, Magda and Lena didn’t wear the crown, and the other servants apparently didn’t have the authority that Elsa had been given. Or they’d neglected to bring it up. She was somewhat relieved to learn that it was all right for her to remove the crown on her own.

“Very well,” Abbi said, finding the ritual awkward. Back in her chair, she studied her reflection while Elsa twisted and pinned her hair into an elaborate work of art, with the crown circling Abbi’s forehead and disappearing into the elegantly placed red curls.
She was the Duchess of Horstberg.
It still felt like a dream; at least this part of it did.

When her hair was done, Abbi complimented Elsa on the results. She couldn’t deny that her hair looked magnificent; perhaps a little
too
magnificent for a girl of nineteen who was longing in that very moment to be riding Blaze through the foothills without a single pin in her hair.

“How long do we have?” Abbi asked.

“His Grace got ready quite some time ago. He said to tell you he’ll be going over some business, and to meet him in the east parlor as soon as you’re ready.” She laughed softly. “He said that he has something to show you. From the smile on his face, I suspect it’s something you’ll enjoy.”

Abbi could only sigh while her thoughts wandered once again, then Elsa appeared with a gown of shimmery gold fabric draped over her arms. “Where did
that
come from?” she asked.

“It was delivered today,” Elsa said. “Your sisters-in-law picked it out when you were ordering clothes with them.”

“I must have missed that part,” Abbi said, stepping into the gown as if it might break. That fragile sensation merged into her while Elsa meticulously fastened the hidden hooks beneath her arms and down her sides. Abbi kept her back to the mirror, almost afraid to look. She’d never worn, or even imagined, something so elegant. Even at the social she’d attended at the castle last year with Lance, she couldn’t recall seeing anything like this. The lightly gathered skirt brushed the floor in front, sloping into inches of excess fabric that draped into a train behind her. She could tell from the way Elsa tugged and adjusted that the back was cut low, and the tiny sleeves angled off her shoulders. While Elsa was meticulously adjusting the bodice, Abbi looked down to realize she’d never before worn anything that hinted at her feminine curves this way.

Elsa stood back to admire her work, and smiled with glowing eyes. “You look like a queen, Miss Abbi.”

“I feel like an imposter,” she admitted, but Elsa only motioned for her to turn around. Abbi turned slowly toward the full-length mirror and felt something quiver inside of her. It wasn’t so much what she saw, as the way it made her feel that caught her attention. She
did
look like a queen. And for the first time since she had discovered that she had married a du Woernig, she almost
felt
like a queen. The feeling didn’t dispel her nerves or lessen her discomfort, but she caught the tiniest glimmer of hope that she could perhaps, with time, fill the role that had been thrust upon her.

Elsa helped Abbi place her silk-stockinged feet into gold slippers that matched the gown, and again Elsa stood back to admire her, while Abbi attempted to accept the reflection as reality.

“You’re all ready,” Elsa announced.

“And where am I supposed to go?”

“I’ll take you,” Elsa said, and Abbi realized that her maid knew the castle better than she did. “I wouldn’t want to miss the look on your husband’s face when he sees you.”

Abbi took a deep breath and followed Elsa down the stairs, grateful that they didn’t pass anyone in the hallway, although she couldn’t be certain why she didn’t want to be seen. When they came to a door, Abbi realized this was the room she’d been brought to the morning that Cameron had revealed his identity to her. Elsa knocked and Cameron’s voice replied, “Come.”

Elsa opened the door and Abbi took a few steps into the room while Elsa hovered behind her. Cameron was alone, and focused on what appeared to be some kind of chart spread over a large table. Abbi took advantage of the moment to observe him while he was unaware. She’d never seen him dressed this way before. The black breeches accentuated his long legs in the absence of boots that covered his calves. In fact, she’d never seen him without high boots, either with his uniform or without it. He wore a high-collared white shirt, with a black cravat tied around his throat, and a black coat that truly looked elegant enough to be worn by royalty. It hung below his hips with a tailored cut that was striking but simple. With a hand on his hip, the coat was pushed behind his arm enough to reveal the deep blue brocade waistcoat, interwoven with gold threads that shimmered like her own gown. The absence of his crown did not lessen the kingly demeanor that took her breath away. He glanced up to see who was there, and then he looked again, straightening his back abruptly, his eyes riveted to her. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. Abbi heard the door close behind her, and knew that Elsa had glimpsed the look she’d come to see and had now left them alone.

Cameron felt himself turn to stone, as if he’d been put under some bewitching spell that instantly made it impossible for him to move or even breathe. He remembered the moment when he had first indulged in imagining Abbi as the Duchess of Horstberg. In spite of her common preferences and wild nature, it hadn’t been difficult to visualize. But never could he have fathomed the vision before him now. Her beauty was undeniable, her demeanor awe inspiring. But it was something else, something undefinable and brilliant that completed the picture and took his breath away. The hint of pregnancy that couldn’t be disguised only added to her stately effect, as if this bold declaration that she was capable of creating life demanded an added dimension of veneration. She was like a statue erected to the glory and beauty of everything feminine and fine.

For long moments he felt so in awe that a lifetime of being treated as royalty diminished behind an insatiable urge to drop to his knees and worship her, as if the privilege of being in her presence for but an instant would be savored for a lifetime. And then he remembered, with some measure of surprise, that she was his, and he was hers. It was his child she carried, his heart she held. She was not only a queen, she was
his
queen. And he felt more like a king in that moment than he ever had—not because she was beautiful, and magnificent, and he could take pride in having her at his side in any situation. But because he knew without question that she loved him with her whole heart and soul.

He longed only to be near her, as if doing so might prove that she was as real as she was his. Keeping his eyes connected to hers, he moved tentatively toward her, his heart quickening as if he’d just now met her for the first time and had fallen head over heels in love. Standing in front of him, she looked up with timidity and doubt that contradicted her regal aura.