Behind the Mask (80 page)

As soon as Cameron was out of sight, Abbi slipped quietly back into her room and went over all of the plans for the wedding, assuring herself that everything was ready. Certain all was under control, she decided to bathe before Lance arrived. He was coming, at Ramona’s insistence, to spend the night at the house in order to prepare for the wedding here. And they would be spending some time together this evening.

Abbi was informed of Lance’s arrival just as she was getting dressed. Elsa helped comb through her wet hair, and she tied it back in a ribbon before Abbi went to the drawing room to find Lance visiting with her aunts. He rose to greet her, kissing her quickly while he squeezed both her hands. She was glad when he suggested they take a walk in the gardens, which allowed her to escape her aunts’ constant chattering.

“Are you feeling prepared for tomorrow?” he asked, setting her hand over his arm.

“As prepared as I possibly can be,” she said. “Actually, I’ve done very little. Marta has been wonderful.”

“Very good. Is there anything that you need me to do?”

“Nothing that you haven’t already done.” She looked up at him and smiled. “You’ve been wonderful, as well.”

Just before they went back inside, Lance took her shoulders into his hands and looked into her eyes. “I want you to know, Abbi, that whatever happens tomorrow, I will always be there for you.
Always.”

Abbi felt overcome with emotion. It was difficult to keep her voice from breaking as she said, “Thank you. You can’t know what that means to me.”

Lance held her in his arms, whispering into her hair, “Perhaps I can.” Abbi responded to his embrace and held to him tightly. She could never describe the support he had become to her. She drew back and he pressed a lingering kiss to her brow.

He moved to go back inside, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Lance,” she said, not certain how to put into words what she wanted to say, but knowing she had to find a way.

“What is it, Abbi?” he asked gently.

“Whatever
does
happen tomorrow, I hope that . . . you will forgive me . . . for any hurt or difficulty I may have brought upon you.” Tears burned into her eyes. “There is so much about this situation I don’t understand, and much that I fear, but . . .”

“Oh, Abbi,” he said when she faltered. He wiped her tears with his fingers. “You mustn’t worry. However this turns out, however difficult it may be, everything will be all right.”

Abbi appreciated his confidence, but she had to say, “However this turns out, Lance, I don’t want to see you hurt. You’ve been nothing but selfless and kind to me.”

He showed a wan smile and took her chin into his fingers, pressing a meek but lengthy kiss to her lips. “You mustn’t worry, Abbi,” he said. “I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

She nodded and forced a smile as he wiped away the remaining residue of her tears and they went inside. They returned to the drawing room to find the aunts still chatting, even though they normally would have gone to bed by now. Lance sat down with Abbi close beside him, holding her hand possessively. Abbi found it strange to realize how thoroughly comfortable she had become with him. The thought of living her life without Cameron was heartbreaking—she couldn’t even consider it—but there was some peace in knowing that the backup plan would not be totally devastating. She certainly felt no passion for Lance, but she did feel peace. And under the circumstances, peace could be worth a great deal.

Elsa came timidly into the drawing room and curtsied. “Miss Abbi, could I ask you to come upstairs for a moment please? There’s that adjustment you asked me to make on the veil, and I need you to try it on now, so I can get it done for morning.”

“Yes of course,” Abbi said. To Lance she added, “I won’t be long. You won’t run away, will you?”

“I’ll stay right here,” he replied.

Abbi followed Elsa to her room, surprised to see it completely dark when they entered.

“Thank you, Elsa.” Cameron’s voice came through the darkness just before the door closed. “I had to see you,” he said, stepping closer. In the shadows Abbi could see that he wore his cloak, and his crossbow was slung over his back.

“I’m so glad you came,” she said, moving into his arms.

“It won’t be much longer now,” he whispered and then kissed her fervently. “I can’t stay. I just needed a kiss . . . for luck.”

Abbi was reminded of medieval tales where knights went off to fight dragons, taking with them a lady’s farewell kiss and a handkerchief to carry into battle.

“Wait,” she said, and quickly found the gift Magda and Lena had given her. “Take this,” she said, pressing the fine lace handkerchief into his hand.

Cameron looked at it, saying, “Isn’t this the one the duke’s sisters gave you to—”

“Yes. And tomorrow, when you see me, you can give it back. And I will have it when I marry.”

“Thank you,” he said, his voice edged with emotion as he pushed it into his pocket. “I’m certain it will bring me luck.”

“I take it you’re off to cause some mischief,” she said, trying to smile.

“All for a good cause,” he replied and kissed her again with intensity. “Oh Abbi, you give me such comfort in the midst of all this madness.” He eased back. “I must go. Georg is waiting for me in the stable.” He moved onto the balcony.

Impulsively Abbi said, “Take Blaze. Perhaps he can . . . help look out for you.”

“I will, thank you,” he said warmly. “Goodness, I’ve got so much good luck I don’t know what I’ll do with it all.”

“You can never have too much good luck.”

Cameron kissed her once more. “Now you get back down there and keep the captain occupied until I get away from here.”

“Yes, my love.” She smiled. “And please—”

“Be careful,” he interrupted, “I know. I will. See you tomorrow.”

“The wedding is at noon.”

“I know, Abbi. I’ll be there.”

Abbi watched from the balcony as he moved across the lawn, floating away with his cloak brushing the ground behind him.

“I love you, Cameron,” she whispered into the breeze, certain that when she saw him again, nothing would ever be the same. Then she went downstairs to entertain Lance.

As long as Abbi kept Cameron’s image clear in her mind, listening to her aunts chatter about the excitement of the wedding tomorrow was almost pleasing. But less than half an hour after Cameron had left, two officers came to the house, insisting that Lance go with them immediately. Abbi’s aunts hurried off to bed once the captain was not there to entertain them, and Abbi returned to her room, tense and nervous. She forced herself not to think too hard about what Cameron might be doing. Instead she concentrated on the wedding, attempting to foresee the results, rather than the grueling process.

Elsa seemed unusually excited about the wedding. As she helped Abbi prepare for bed, she chattered about how wonderful it would be, and what a fine man she thought Cameron was. Abbi appreciated the way she kept the mood light. After Elsa left however, Abbi found it impossible to sleep. She moved about the room listlessly, reminiscing about the time Cameron had spent there with her.

Somewhere in the night, Abbi went to the balcony, surprised to see an immense fire burning on the other side of the valley. Flames rose high into the air, and the smoke drifted up in front of the moonlight. She couldn’t tell what was burning, but she hoped no one had been hurt.

In spite of the distance from town, Abbi sensed a commotion in the night. Fear enveloped her as she wondered what Cameron was up to, and if his motives were warranted. It was crazy to think how much she loved him, and for all she knew he was nothing more than a common criminal, deceiving her into going along with . . . what? Heaven only knew. Abbi had no doubt about the sincerity of his love, and to her that was all that had really mattered. But as her future came closer to being on the line, she prayed that he was the honorable man she had always believed him to be. And she prayed even harder that he would survive this night’s proceedings.

“You know, Georg,” Cameron said, “if Abbi knew what we were up to right now, she’d probably disown us both.”

“That’s why Abbi doesn’t know,” Georg retorted.

“I hope she’ll forgive me,” Cameron said, a little too seriously.

“She loves you,” Georg replied.

“I know. But I hope she’ll forgive me. Do you think she’ll understand why I had to do it this way?”

“She loves you,” Georg repeated.

“I know but—”

“Shut up, Cameron. You’re a wreck.”

“I’ll admit it, but—”

“There’s the signal,” Georg interrupted, then he gave a shrill whistle to alert those waiting around them. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I’m a wreck,” Cameron uttered, stirring Blaze forward.

“Shut up!” Georg insisted, and he did.

Georg led the group as they slithered stealthily up the castle hill. Cameron hovered at the rear, just as they’d planned. Approaching the gate they hesitated, passing expectant glances among themselves. Georg nodded and the men drew their weapons—just in case. The plan was to avoid any bloodshed, but that all depended on how much resistance they encountered.

Cameron gave the signal and they flew in unison into the courtyard. Organized chaos ensued as each man followed meticulous instructions. Arrows flew and rifles sounded amid the clattering of hooves on stone, but the use of weapons was more for a display of power than any intention to do harm. Cameron had made it clear that any bloodshed at all was only as a last resort, and even then he would not accept any loss of life unless the situation became desperate. His men spread out to assume their posts by overtaking the positions of each man on duty. Those who were presently on shift to protect this great fortress were greatly outnumbered and quickly overtaken by Cameron’s own force. While sounds of scuffling and well-rehearsed signals came from all directions, Cameron found himself facing a young, zealous officer he’d never seen before. It took little effort for Cameron to knock the pistol out of his hand and draw the officer’s sword, which he pressed to the young man’s throat.

“What’s your name?” Cameron demanded.

The officer only gave a mechanical response. “I serve Nikolaus du Woernig of Horstberg.”

“Are you willing to die for him?” Cameron asked gruffly, impressed by the lad’s courage, but not his blind obedience.

“I serve Nikolaus du Woernig of Horstberg,” the officer repeated.

“Ah, shut up,” Cameron said and tossed the sword into his other hand so he could belt him firmly in the jaw. By the time the lad recovered from the blow, Cameron had him in handcuffs. He was put into the care of one of Cameron’s own men, who would take him to wait with the others who had been temporarily relieved of their duties until they could be properly informed of the change in command. Cameron was then given a report that no deaths had occurred, every post was secure, and all injuries were minor. A signal was given and three wagons rolled into the courtyard.

“Bring down the gate!” Georg called and it reluctantly groaned to a close. With men placed strategically to keep watch, Cameron and Georg went into the main entrance of the castle, meeting no resistance. Cameron paused to catch his breath and absorb where he was and how it had come together like clockwork.

“Wait,” Cameron said in response to Georg’s impatient stare. “I need a moment.” He touched the stone surrounding the doorway, absorbing the memories that assaulted him. “I can’t believe it, Georg. I’ve come back.” He laughed. “And your careful planning paid off, eh?”

“Having more than half of the Guard on our side might have had something to do with that.”

Cameron laughed again, and they hurried across the great hall, then down long corridors, searching for something that Cameron had waited four years to find.

Magda came awake from the shouting and clattering outside. Then gunshot split the night. “Heaven be merciful,” she muttered, moving toward the window as she threw a wrapper over her nightgown. “No!” she cried, seeing the courtyard in absolute chaos. She hurried through the sitting room she shared with Lena, only to bump into her sister somewhere in the middle.

“Do you realize what’s happening?” Magda asked, her voice shaking.