Behind the Mask (124 page)

Once his decision had been made, Cameron felt deeply relieved and truly at peace for the first time in months. As he and Georg continued to privately discuss their plans, Cameron sensed his friend’s heartbreak over the outcome. Georg had stood by him, shared the dream, and had seen it to its fruition. They had become comfortable with the prospect of working together, side by side, for the rest of their lives. But Cameron needed Georg at the helm in order to have peace. And that meant separating Abbi from Elsa as well. Still, Cameron absolutely knew what he had to do. He’d rarely, if ever, felt anything so profoundly in his life.

When Cameron presented his plan to Magda, she wept at first. Then she dried her tears and spoke like a queen. “I’m capable of doing this, Cameron.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And I can do it well.”

“Yes, I know,” he said again. “But
will
you?”

“I’m willing,” she said. “But I don’t want to. I believe Abbi will come to herself. I believe she has it in herself to rise to this and be happy. I’m counting on your return. I’ll do it, but I will consider it temporary.”

“This cannot be halfhearted, Magda,” he insisted firmly.

Her eyes took on a familiar intensity that let him know beyond any doubt she
was
capable. “I will govern this country with my whole heart, and I will do it the way you and I both know it should be done. And you will give your whole heart to Abbi. And when you are ready to return, I will give your country back to you . . . with my whole heart.”

Cameron could not foresee that day, but for now that didn’t matter. By the time she needed to accept that her position was permanent, she would be accustomed to it. There was one more point that needed to be clear.

“When you marry,” he said, “you know that—”

“If
I marry,” she countered.

Cameron leaned toward her and spoke harshly. “I will
not
let you sacrifice your entire life for this, Magda. How can I save one woman I love from this fate and condemn another?”

“Because I was raised to it. I can be happy.”

“No,” he shook his head, “you think you can, because you don’t know differently. Trust me when I tell you that there is no happiness or fulfillment so great as what you will find in a good marriage, Magda. It
is
possible to have both.”

“You
are telling
me
that it’s possible to have both, while you’re ready to turn your back and run?”

He sighed and looked away. “It was just . . . too much for her . . . too quickly. The circumstances were far too extreme.” He turned to look at his sister. “But that’s not the case for you. When you marry, Magda, marry for love. But marry carefully. The moment that ring goes on your finger, this country will legally become his jurisdiction.”

“I know that. But he will always be superceded by a male du Woernig.” She hesitated and looked at him hard. “You do have a son, Cameron. Or had you forgotten? Erich has the greatest precedence.”

“And he is an infant. Ruling Horstberg will be his choice. I will not force it upon him.”

“I fear you leave too much up to chance after you have worked so hard to gain control.”

“I’m leaving nothing up to chance, Magda. I am leaving my country in good hands, and there are many people here who will always know where to find me, should something unforeseen occur. But there will
always
be chance in this game of monarchy, my dear sister. I cannot predict the personalities of my children or circumstances that may affect the hands this country will fall into. We can only do the best we can with what we have to work with. That’s what I’m doing. I know in my heart it’s what God wants me to do. There is confidence and peace in knowing He is with me, even though doing what’s right by Him is rarely the easy path. And His purposes are not our purposes.”

Magda watched him closely for a long moment before she said, “You’ve changed.”

“Yes, I am a different man. My years away were—”

“I’m well aware that your years away created remarkable change in your life, Cameron. But you’ve changed even since we last talked. There is a . . . serenity about you. I’ve never seen you so at peace. You’re worried . . . and I feel the weight on your shoulders . . . but I can also feel your peace.”

He smiled and took her hand, pressing it to his lips. “Then surely all will be well.”

The following day, Georg asked Cameron if they could talk privately. He started out the conversation with a firm declaration that they could not separate their wives or their sons—therefore Georg and his family would be leaving with them.

“You’ve spoken to Elsa, then,” Cameron said.

“Yes. She adamantly refuses to be separated from Abbi. We overlooked the fact that Elsa is feeding Erich.”

Cameron sighed. “Yes, we did overlook that, didn’t we.”

“Regardless, Elsa says that Abbi needs her.”

“I can’t argue with that, but . . .” Cameron’s deep relief over such an idea was countered by one problem. “But I need you here, Georg. You’re the only one I fully trust to—”

“That’s why I’ve taken the liberty to purchase, on your behalf, a lovely country estate that is less than an hour’s ride by horseback from our beloved Horstberg. I will be your liaison. I’ll come here two or three times a week for a day’s work and be home in time for supper. Magda will be a figurehead. You will be running the country from a distance. You can return often enough to make your presence known. Abbi doesn’t have to come back at all, if she prefers. I’ve already talked to Magda about it. She’s far more comfortable with this possibility.”

Cameron felt added peace wash over him. Every aspect that had left him uneasy had just been solved. He took a deep breath and said, “Do I have no say in this?” He chuckled before Georg could wonder if he was serious. His voice broke as he said, “It’s perfect, Georg. Thank you. When can we leave?”

“Three days,” Georg said. “The day before we go, I’ll have the servants start packing our things with careful instructions not to let Her Grace know our plans.”

“Thank you,” Cameron said, and Georg left the room. Once alone, Cameron closed his eyes and reminded himself of his convictions. He’d told God he would give up anything, and he’d meant it. But, oh the heartache of leaving his country behind! Life would never be the same, but as long as Abbi could be happy, nothing else mattered. Nothing!

Cameron looked up from his paperwork to see Lance enter the office.

“You wanted to see me, sir,” he said, and Cameron tossed his glasses on the desk.

“Yes, have a seat.”

Cameron was silent a moment and was not surprised to hear the question he heard each time he encountered the captain. “Is she any better?”

And Cameron gave the same response. “No.” He then asked, “Have you spoken with her?”

“Not today,” Lance said. “But . . . yesterday . . . it was the same. She doesn’t have any interest in believing anything good I have to say about her, and she says very little.”

Cameron sighed and looked away. “I appreciate your trying,” he said. “I know she trusts you. If she’s not talking to you or Georg, I fear she won’t talk to anyone.” He sighed again. “That’s why I’m taking her away from here.”

While Cameron gave Lance a brief overview of his plans, and the reasoning behind them, he nearly expected the captain to break down and cry. “I need you to know the truth,” Cameron said. “You’ve stood by me . . . us . . . without question. I need you to be there for Magda.”

Lance was silent a long moment, then said, “And should I choose to resign, sir?”

“I’m begging you not to,” Cameron said.

Lance looked at the floor, and Cameron knew he was struggling with his emotion. “I can’t imagine . . . serving without you . . . or her.”

“I must do what’s best for Abbi.”

“I understand,” he said. “Truly I do, but . . .”

“I know, Captain. You don’t have to say it. Even though I don’t want her to know, I hope you’ll take the time to visit with her before we leave. And I hope that you will take every possible opportunity to visit us in our new home.”

“Of course,” Lance said, and hurried from the room, reminding Cameron of Lance’s response right after he’d killed Nikolaus and had needed to be alone. And Cameron couldn’t blame him. The whole thing was just so blasted hard.

Abbi stepped out of the tub and into the heavy robe that Elsa held up for her.

“Are you all right?” Elsa asked, lifting her wet hair over the back of the robe.

“Just tired,” Abbi said, and went into the bedroom to lie down, feeling no incentive to get dressed any further. She drifted to sleep and woke up when Elsa laid Erich beside her.

“Feed him what you can,” she said gently, “and then I’ll see that he’s full.”

Abbi relished holding her son close, feeling as if he might be her only link to anything sane or reasonable. He was far too young to understand the turmoil going on inside of his mother. She nursed the baby until what she had was gone, but as always he was still hungry. She watched Elsa sitting nearby, feeding her son, and she couldn’t help thinking that her life had no value whatsoever. She felt certain if she just faded away that those who would initially grieve over her absence would quickly recover and press forward. She’d given all she had to give. Her life felt over, and for the hundredth time she wondered why God hadn’t allowed her the opportunity to slip quietly away when she had come so close.

Elsa left Erich sleeping in the center of the bed, not far from Abbi, while she came and went, caring for little Han. When he was asleep in Elsa’s arms, she sat nearby and said with a gentle firmness that caught Abbi’s attention, “You need to talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say,” Abbi murmured, looking away.

“Abbi, listen to me,” she said with no differentiation of social status in her tone or manner. As if to explain, she added, “I have been by your side for many years. There is no other woman in your life or mine who shares the trust that we share. This has gone on long enough. I know you’re hurting.
Everyone
who loves you knows you’re hurting. I’ve locked the doors. Our babies are here with us. I’m not leaving this room, and no one is coming in except to bring food until you tell me what it is that has defeated you so completely. I may not be able to solve any problems, but I can share your burden.”

Abbi could only stare at Elsa, puzzled and dazed, wishing she could pretend not to understand what she meant, having no idea where to begin to unravel such complicated emotions and thoughts.

“Abbi, I know that these past months have brought some overwhelming changes into your life, and some traumatic events. No one can dispute that. But you’re stronger than this.”

“No, Elsa,” Abbi muttered, “I’m not strong at all. I thought I was . . . once, but . . .” She couldn’t finish.

“Abbi, talk to me,” Elsa pleaded.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Start by telling me what
really
happened when you woke up to find Nikolaus du Woernig in your bedroom.” Abbi gasped, then found it difficult to breathe. “And don’t try to pretend that it was nothing to be concerned about, or insignificant. It takes much more than time to heal from such wounds. And yes, I know what I’m talking about.”