Behind the Mask (123 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth D. Michaels

Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Historical, #Religion & Spirituality, #Fiction, #Medieval, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Christianity, #Christian Fiction, #Historical Romance, #Buchanan series, #the captain of her heart, #saga, #Anita Stansfield, #Horstberg series, #Romance, #Inspirational, #clean romance

BOOK: Behind the Mask
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“I’m sorry,” Cameron said, startled. But Mr. Lumburg looked too concerned to repeat the question.

Georg took it upon himself to do what a right-hand man should do. “I don’t believe His Grace is feeling well.” Georg stood and added firmly, “I’m certain the remainder of our business can wait. The meeting is adjourned.”

Cameron looked a little dazed as he watched the men file out of the room. While Georg had no intention of leaving, he was still surprised by the way Cameron barked at him, “Mr. Heinrich. You will stay, please.”

Georg closed the door and leaned against it, once the last man was out. He watched Cameron staring at the wall and wondered how to open a necessary conversation that might incite him to actually talk about the problem, as opposed to brushing it aside. Before he came up with any words, Cameron said, “Not so many months ago, you and I formed a very careful plan to prove my innocence and to free this country from tyranny.”

“Yes, we did,” Georg said and sat down.

“That has been accomplished.”

“Yes, it certainly has.”

“I’m certain you remember that a crucial part of the plan was to insure that, in the event of my death, the country would still remain in good hands.”

“That’s right,” Georg said, his uneasiness increasing.

“We discussed avenues for placing an appropriate regent in lieu of an adult male with the necessary bloodline.”

“Yes, but now that you’re in place, those avenues are irrelevant.”

“No, Georg. They are altered, but not irrelevant.”

Georg’s heart quickened with formless dread. “What are you saying, Cameron? What’s wrong?”

Cameron sighed loudly and came to his feet. He stood at the window and sighed again. “Did I ever tell you, Georg, about the first time I saw Abbi?”

“No, I don’t believe you did,” he said, surprised at the turn in the conversation.

“I’d been alone for nearly three years,” he said as if Georg might not have known. “Three years, and I’d not once laid eyes on another human being. I was coming out of the stable and heard something. I wondered if an animal had wandered in. I peered around the door, and my knees nearly buckled. I saw her just as she dismounted, and she left the reins hanging. My first thought of her was this trust she had with the animal, as if she absolutely knew he wouldn’t leave without her. Then I took a good, long look at her, and my knees
did
buckle. I remember sitting there on the ground, trying to breathe. By the time I
could
breathe, I realized she’d gone into the house. I followed her in and did my best to scare the hell out of her. Maybe I wanted to put us on even ground. If it had been an ugly old man, I surely would have been affected just to be given any form of human interaction. But there stood the most beautiful creature I had ever encountered. I barely recall what I said, what she said, but I will never forget the moment our eyes connected. It was as if . . .” his voice cracked, “something in my spirit . . . reached out to . . . something in her spirit, and . . . from that moment, our spirits were inseparable. I was too afraid and overwhelmed at the time to comprehend any such concept, but . . . looking back . . . I know that’s when it happened.”

He sighed deeply. “Beyond that day, I asked myself a thousand times if what I felt for her was simply convenience or happenstance; she was the only woman I’d seen in three years. But there was nothing convenient about it. God sent
her
to me because He knew our spirits would connect that way. But I was too afraid to truly see the meaning in her being there. I sent her away before I could even give the matter a moment’s thought. And in her absence, my thoughts devoured me from the inside out. I’d spent ten minutes in her presence, and she was like some kind of bittersweet infection. She wasn’t just in my mind, she was everywhere. She was in my blood, making my heart beat harder every time I thought of her. She was in my skin, my nerves, my every breath. She had me bewitched and utterly enraptured. But I’d sent her away, and the very idea of never seeing her again only strengthened my resolve to end my own life.”

Cameron pushed a hand into his hair then wiped it over his face. “Then by some odd
coincidence,”
his sarcasm made his belief on the matter unmistakably clear, “I saw her riding the lower meadow. She made a habit of coming there; I made a habit of catching her at it. I would hide in the trees and just soak her in as if . . .” he pressed a palm over his chest, “she could . . . heal me from her presence alone. There were moments when I nearly expected her to spread her arms and take flight, like some kind of mythical creature. I never could have convinced myself that I loved her then. I could only need her and want her. And oh, I did! I wanted her! I imagined myself walking down through that crevice just to tell her that I’d been wrong, and then I would take her in my arms and hold her, and touch her, and just let her bring me back to life. And that was the biggest reason I held myself back. I felt half out of my mind. I feared what I might do to her, lonely as I was. And then . . . then . . . she ended up in my care. I was so in awe of her that I had to keep my anger and pride carefully in place if only to keep myself from falling at her feet. There were times when I almost believed she had some magical power over me. She would spout off visionary dreams and look into my soul with more insight and wisdom than I’d ever encountered in my life. She was like water in a desert. She came into my home, and my life, and my soul, and she smothered the fire, and eased the thirst, and softened the crusted ground. And when she finally made it clear that she would not tolerate my emotional battles, that she would not stand for my hiding from the world—and from her—the greatest miracle of all manifested itself.”

Cameron’s voice broke, and it took him a long moment to continue. “She
loved
me.” He sighed and swallowed hard, closing his eyes as if to pull the memories closer. “Right from the start, she was more vibrant, more wise, more passionate, more selfless than any woman I’ve ever known. I saw in her a queen from that very first moment, and every day her nobility became more and more evident. And she gave herself to
me.
Of all men, she chose me. She knows me more deeply than I had ever imagined being known. What you and I share as friends, Georg, is rare I’m certain. But no one knows me the way Abbi does. She can see into my soul. She holds my heart in her hands. She is my life, Georg. She has suffered greatly for my sake. In spite of my cruelty and neglect at times, she has stood by me without question. She has exhibited more courage, and trust, and strength than I ever would have believed a woman could possess.”

“I would agree with that,” Georg said when Cameron seemed finished. Nothing at all was said for more than a minute. Georg wondered over the point of the conversation. Was Cameron simply reminiscing? Was he indulging in nostalgia to avoid whatever might be troubling him? Georg just waited.

“Abbi is dying,” Cameron finally said, and Georg gasped. “I must take her away from here.” The beginning of the conversation made sense when he added, “I need to know that my country is in good hands.”

Georg could hardly draw breath. He wondered what had gone wrong, what information had been withheld from him. He finally managed to sputter, “But . . . I thought she . . . was supposed to be fine. The doctor said that—”

“What the doctor said is true,” Cameron said. “There is no physical explanation for her absolute refusal to leave the room where she has made herself a prisoner. There is no medical reason for her to cling to her bed, as if being there is her only safety and security.” He let out an anguished sigh. “I had believed that nothing in this life would devastate me more than her physical death. I was wrong. Every day I watch her fading, disappearing right before my eyes. She recedes further and further into a place where I cannot reach her, I cannot find her. I cannot express my love to her and have her believe me. And why? Because I’m the one responsible. How could she believe that I love her above all else when I have dragged her against her will into this world that she loathes, when I have sentenced her to a life that contradicts everything she longs for?” He sighed more deeply. “What have I done to her, Georg? And now that it’s done, how do I see it
undone?”

“Everything you have done has been done with love and concern for her, Cameron.”

“No!” Cameron turned and lifted a finger. “Everything I have done has been for
duty
and
honor
to my country!”

“And always with love and concern for her,” Georg repeated, but Cameron only looked more confused and disheartened. “She has the potential to be the greatest duchess this country has ever seen. I know it, and you know it. And everyone who has had the privilege to come within arm’s distance of her knows it.”

“She
doesn’t know it, Georg. But more importantly, she doesn’t
want
it. She would rather die than be a duchess, and
I can’t live with that!”
He sighed and added with resignation, “That’s why I’m leaving.”

“What?” Georg retorted, aghast. But Cameron was unaffected. “How can that even be an option, Cameron?”

“A very wise person once taught me that there are
always
options.”

“And who would that be?” Georg asked, still stuck on exactly
what
options he might be proposing.

“Abbi,” he said and then hurried on. “I will be choosing a suitable regent to serve in my absence, and I will be taking my wife and son away from here to seek out a different life.”

Georg allowed himself a moment to take in what he was hearing. “Horstberg is in your blood, Cameron.”

He turned to look at Georg with piercing eyes. “Yes, it is. And leaving here will leave a hole in my heart for as long as there is breath in me, but . . .” He squeezed his eyes closed, and tears spilled down his face. “It is Abbi who holds the larger portion of my heart. She is my greatest responsibility. She is my most important stewardship.
Abbi
is in my blood, Georg.” He sniffled and turned away. “When Nikolaus confronted me with the choice—my wife or my country—I was torn.”

“Understandably so.”

“But my heart knew the answer. Guilt and duty lured me to believe that I should have chosen my country. Abbi told me to. She’s like that. And that’s the truest reason for the problem, Georg. With unfathomable courage, she made it clear that she would sacrifice herself for the sake of my country. And that’s exactly what she’s doing now. The situation was more precarious then for many reasons. Now I know the people of Horstberg are being properly ruled and cared for. I am in control. It’s up to me who gets put in charge. It’s up to me to determine that the established laws will be enforced even in my absence. It was Abbi who made all of that possible.
She
is the reason Horstberg has no homeless or starving. She is the reason people are not being falsely accused and executed. She gave me back my life, and I turned around and gave it to Horstberg. She set me free in more ways than I could ever count, Georg. Now I must honor my most sacred obligation and set
her
free.”

“But . . .” Georg stammered, “how can you . . . just—”

“I do not want this freely discussed until the time is right.” Cameron sat down behind the desk, all ducal business now. “The planning will be up to you and me alone. I don’t want to hear the opinions of the committees. They obviously heeded Nikolaus’s word without question like a bunch of blind sheep. They will have to do the same for me. I will be leaving you in this position to see that all is done the way I would have it done.”

“And that’s it?” Georg countered. “After all you’ve worked for and fought for? You’re just going to walk away?”

“Yes, I am. And I will not look back.”

“And you believe you can be happy?”

“I will be happy because Abbi will be happy.”

Georg took a minute to let his declaration sink in. He rubbed his head as if that might make him think better. “I understand what you’re saying, Cameron, and . . . I respect your honoring Abbi this way, more than I could ever tell you, but . . . surely such drastic measures are not necessary. I truly believe that it’s in her to be the duchess
and
to be happy.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Still . . . you can take an extended vacation, put people temporarily in charge.”

“If she knows it’s temporary, she will dread returning.”

“But perhaps time away will give her perspective and—”

“Georg!” he snapped. “Let me explain this to you so there is no room for misunderstanding. I asked God to guide me in this matter. I have begged and pleaded and pledged to do whatever He wanted me to do, if He would only show me the way to make Abbi happy, to give her a good life. The answer has come to me in no uncertain terms.” His voice quavered. “He has asked me to give up my country. And I will
not
back down on
my
part of the bargain.”

Georg was stunned into silence and relieved when Cameron went on, more calmly. “However, as far as anyone in Horstberg knows—including the committees—it will appear temporary. We will go on vacation, leave someone in charge, and never come back. After a few years, when everyone has become accustomed to the situation and is comfortable with seeing that the country is being well cared for, I will return long enough to legalize the change permanently.”

Georg liked this aspect of it, mostly because he wanted to believe that with time the problem would solve itself, that both Cameron and Abbi would be able to take hold of their positions with confidence—and happiness.

“Who?” Georg asked.

“Magda,” he said with no hesitation. “She will be guided by you and others who will keep everything on course. While it’s not customary for a woman to rule, I will make it so in this case. She’s strong enough to be a firm figurehead. She has good instincts and the integrity to do what’s right by Horstberg. She’s not afraid to make a decision and see it stand.”

“Have you asked
her
opinion on this?”

“Not yet. But she’ll do it.”

“She won’t like it.”

“No, but she’ll do it. And it will only be the three of us who know my reasons for leaving and the purpose behind it. If Abbi even suspects my motivation, she will
pretend
to be happy, and that will be worse. I’ll tell her we’re going on a lengthy vacation, and once we’re settled, I’ll tell her I’ve decided not to go back. The vacation will be a surprise. Until I put her in the carriage, she’s not to hear a word. I’ve suggested vacations or outings, and she has no interest.” He sighed and motioned a hand through the air. “That’s all I have to say. I need to be alone.”

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