Behind the Mask (121 page)

Cameron looked into Georg’s eyes as a chill rushed over his back. Then he turned to look at his wife and answered, “Yes, Abbi told it to me.”

“It’s always been one of my favorites,” Georg said. “But in the last few years, it’s taken on new meaning for me. I’ve read it often, and for some reason, I always thought of you.”

Cameron kept his focus on Abbi, and her hand in his, but his mind became consumed with what Georg was saying.

“A man sold into bondage by his jealous brothers. And just when he comes to terms with his slavery, just when he believes he can make the most of it, he’s put into prison. But in the end, Joseph himself says that he knew it was God’s will that he’d suffered those things, so that he could be put into the position that saved all of Egypt from the famine, as well as his own family.” Georg’s voice became intent. “Cameron, I believe the hardships you have endured were meant to make you a better, stronger man. I believe you have the ability to lead this nation into a state of strength and prosperity unlike it has ever seen before.”

Cameron let that settle and had to say, “I believe that’s possible, Georg. I do. But everything I am I owe to you—and to Abbi. All through my life you’ve been there for me, Georg. You’ve guided and supported me as no friend ever could. But we both know it was Abbi who changed me . . . healed me. How can I be
anything
without her? Before she came into my life, I was just some . . . warped extension of my father.” He sighed and pushed his hands through his hair. “Maybe I still am.”

“No,” Georg said with quiet vehemence. “You are a better man than he, even at your worst.”

“I don’t know that you’ve really seen me at my worst, Georg.” He gazed at his sweet wife, contemplating how close to death she looked. “But Abbi certainly has.”

“And that’s in the past. Marriage requires forgiveness, Cameron. She may know the worst of you, but she also knows the best. And vice versa. You have the potential to break the patterns your father established—both as a ruler
and
a husband and father. But the negative impressions left by his harsh example run deep, as they would in any human being subjected to such unfairness . . . to such a lack of love in the way he raised you. Such deeply ingrained habits don’t change overnight. They have to be stripped away piece by piece, as you rebuild what’s good and right in their place.” He put a hand on Cameron’s shoulder. “You’re a good man. Don’t punish yourself for this, when it has absolutely nothing to do with other challenges in your life.”

Cameron couldn’t comment. In his heart he doubted that he could ever stop punishing himself for the suffering he’d brought into Abbi’s life. He might not be responsible for her hovering at the brink of death, but it was his son she’d just given birth to. And it was this life he’d brought her into that had destroyed her happiness. While a part of him wanted to share the burden of such feelings with Georg, he couldn’t bring himself to even contemplate allowing them into the open. Instead he murmured, “What is left for me if Abbi dies? She is my motive behind all that is good; she’s my reason for living.”

“I can well understand what you must be feeling, Cameron. I cannot imagine living even a day without Elsa.”

“Would God take her now and leave me with nothing?” Cameron cried.

“I wouldn’t say you have nothing, Cameron. You have everything you’ve been fighting to have.” His voice softened. “You have a son—a son who will need your love, whether Abbi lives or not. And Abbi would want you to be the kind of father that you wish your own father would have been. With or without her, Cameron, you have to live the way she would want you to live. You have to do your best to live worthy of all she taught you and everything she gave you.” Cameron looked into Georg’s eyes and felt the tiniest degree of peace. The feeling intensified when Georg gave an emotional smile and concluded, “And I really believe in my heart that she’s going to make it.”

Cameron put his head to Georg’s shoulder and cried like a baby, all the while holding Abbi’s hand in his. The door opening startled Cameron. He wiped his face with his shirtsleeves as Georg moved away. A moment later, Cameron looked up just as Elsa put his son into the crook of his arm.

“His stomach’s full and his diaper is dry,” she said. “He needs his father.” She stepped back, apparently oblivious to Cameron’s alarm. “I’ll be close by if you need me,” she said and left the room, taking Georg with her.

Cameron glanced toward the doctor, who was still sleeping soundly in the chair, oblivious to the quiet drama that had been taking place in the room. Cameron took a long look at Abbi’s pale face, surrounded by her flaming red hair against the pillows. Then he looked into the face of his son, surrounded by curly wisps of hair, the same color. “Erich,” he whispered, touching the baby’s soft skin, in awe of the miracle. He feared the baby would wake up and cry, and he wouldn’t know what to do. But he slept for more than two hours in the security of Cameron’s arm, while Cameron kept his other hand in Abbi’s, praying continually that she would live to see this child become a man.

It was still completely dark when Erich grunted and stretched himself awake, and then he began to squawk. Cameron was about to go find Elsa when she appeared and took Erich away to be fed and changed. Free of the baby, Cameron knelt beside the bed and touched Abbi’s face, her hair, her face again. He talked to her as if she could hear him, pledging his love and commitment. He apologized to her for all the hurt he’d inflicted on her by his anger and neglect. He recounted the story of his falling in love with her and how she had changed his life. He told her how she’d made him believe in himself again, that she’d taught him things about himself that he’d never known.

As dawn began to break into the room, Cameron felt an urgency overcome him. How long would this go on? What if she didn’t make it? How could he live without her? In desperation, he pressed his face into her hair against the pillow, crying as if she were already dead. “Please don’t leave me, Abbi, please. I need you. I need you.” He felt a comforting hand at the back of his head, and wondered who had come into the room. Georg, most likely. But he didn’t care. Then the touch softened, fingers moved into his hair—plainly feminine. His sister, perhaps.

“Cameron,” he heard close to his ear. He sucked in his breath and held it. He recognized her familiar touch at the same moment he recognized her voice. He lifted his head slowly, hardly daring to move. She looked no different. Perhaps it had been his imagination. Then her face tilted toward him, and her eyelids flickered open. “Cameron,” Abbi said again. A sob of laughter burst directly from his chest into the open air. Then another. A faint smile touched Abbi’s lips. Her eyes closed then opened again, this time a little wider. “I love you,” she murmured.

Cameron laughed with a joy unlike anything he’d ever felt. “I love you too, Abbi, with all my heart and soul. And I will never let you doubt it again,
never!”

She weakly touched the tears on his face, as if to question them.

“I thought you were going to leave me,” he said, and concentrated on the evidence that Abbi was very much alive, and he prayed that she would hold on.

Cameron hardly left Abbi’s side until the doctor declared that she was completely out of danger. And even then, he was never gone for long. He slept by her side and ate only when she ate. For days she was too weak to even feed herself, and the maids declared that he left them with little to do when he insisted on seeing that she ate her meals and helping her in every way that he could. Just to see her moving, talking, and breathing seemed such a miracle to him. And he told her more than once of all he’d learned, not only through her brush with death, but since she had come into his life initially. But Abbi didn’t say much; she only listened with a somewhat dazed look in her eyes. He wanted to credit her lack of conversation to her weakness. And she certainly was weak. He could hardly believe this was the same woman who had come into his life with so much energy and vibrancy. He recalled how quickly she had recovered when she’d nearly frozen to death in the snow. But now days passed and her improvement was too gradual to measure. Even when she found the strength to feed herself, she needed help to shift positions in bed.

Little Erich had to be propped up with pillows for his mother to nurse him, since she didn’t have the strength to even hold up his tiny head. And her milk was never enough to satisfy the baby, which made them all grateful that Elsa was on hand and able to meet his needs, rather than having to bring in a stranger to be a wet nurse for the infant prince. The doctor assured Cameron with each visit that it would take several weeks for Abbi’s body to rebuild the blood she had lost, but Cameron felt impatient to see her restored to health. She was a ghost of the woman he’d fallen in love with, and he felt responsible. He almost believed her suffering had been for the sake of teaching him a new level of humility, and while he believed he had learned it, he would not feel peace until his sweet wife was back to normal.

For Abbi, the days dragged into weeks. Her only joy was her new little son, and her most pleasant moments came when she could just lie close beside him and watch him, whether awake or asleep. Beyond that she felt utterly useless and too weak to do anything about it. A milestone came when she could get out of bed with help and actually walk a few steps to a chair or the bathtub. But far worse than the physical debility that had rendered her helpless, she had to face the long, empty hours of feeling too ill to move and too preoccupied to sleep. Disturbing memories became her closest companions. Events that she had believed to be conquered and put away came back to taunt her with cruel fierceness. And while she tried to force such ugly thoughts away, there were equally difficult thoughts related to the present that seemed determined to hover in her mind.

Visitors came frequently, and Abbi was truly grateful for their company. Lance came nearly every day, as did her father. They only stayed a few minutes, just long enough to inquire over her health and wish her well. Her aunts came occasionally, thankfully never staying too long. Magda came every day at least twice, often sitting for an hour or more with her to give Elsa the breaks she needed. Otherwise Elsa was almost continually with Abbi, and she wondered what she would ever do without her. Georg checked on her often, and Cameron spent so much time with her that she began to wonder what he was neglecting in the other aspects of his life. With worry and concern in his eyes, he assured her that everything was under control, but she didn’t know whether or not to believe him.

Abbi enjoyed not being alone, as much as she appreciated the evidence that many people cared for her and were concerned. But no amount of company could ease her deepest heartache. She knew she would recover physically with time. But then what? No matter how she tried to tell herself that she could live up to Cameron’s expectations, she just couldn’t fully believe it. With the course of her thoughts and memories, she simply found it impossible to imagine herself being a woman worthy of standing at Cameron du Woernig’s side. And in her heart, she knew her own misgivings were the biggest reason for his neglect before the baby had been born. She wondered if she could ever forgive herself for the way she’d slapped him that day, and the horrible, hurtful words that had come out of her mouth. And because of what she’d said, she couldn’t question that he knew she was uncomfortable with what was expected of her. And he likely didn’t know how to confront something that had no solution.

When Erich was two months old, Abbi felt as if her life were over. The doctor said she was recovering well, and she could be up and around as long as she didn’t overdo it. She moved around the room here and there and was managing to help care for herself to some degree. But she far preferred spending as much time in her bed as she could get away with. And she didn’t feel at all like going outside the walls of her bedroom. As tired as she was of being here, life outside these walls was frightening. As much as she relished the presence of her son in her life, even he could not eradicate all else in her life that was wrong. A part of her wished that she had just died when the opportunity had come so close. She felt worthless and just plain tired of fearing life beyond her recovery. She could see her purpose in helping Cameron return to Horstberg. And she had given him a son. But she felt certain that from this point on, some other woman would be better suited to fill her position. She ached to pour her feelings out to someone and have them understand. But it was too sore a point to bring up with Cameron. And everyone else seemed so thoroughly pleased that she was now the duchess, she hardly dared put a voice to her feelings.

Abbi often thought of Cameron’s reference to the mask he’d always had to wear, being the duke. And yet he was so comfortable slipping in and out of his role. He’d been born to it. But now Abbi felt herself hiding behind her own mask, a mask that represented everything she was expected to be. And she wasn’t comfortable with it at all. More and more, she found her thoughts lingering with how much easier it would be to simply fade away and leave her life to be lived by someone else; someone more capable, someone less scarred and damaged, someone better suited to be a duchess.