Behind the Mask (82 page)

“Yes, I know, but . . . thank you, Georg. For everything. I am forever indebted to you.”

“Any friend would have done as much,” Georg said humbly.

“No.” Cameron took hold of his forearm, then pushed his other arm around Georg in a firm embrace. “There is no friend so great as you are.”

They eased back from their embrace to look into each other’s eyes. Then Georg left, and Cameron hurried to face the committee, praying that all would continue to go as planned.

With the smell of smoke permeating the air, Abbi moved a chair to the balcony and watched until the fire died down and a stark serenity fell over the valley, like the aftermath of a storm. She fell asleep in the chair and woke to find the sky barely light. She watched as the east horizon burst into a background of orange, and Abbi realized her wedding day had arrived. Only a matter of hours now stood between this peaceful moment and the reckoning of her future. She went to the bureau and opened the drawer where Cameron’s sealed letter sat patiently with her father’s documents. She picked it up, tempted to open it—just to know who he really was. But deciding it would be bad luck, she quickly put it back and closed the drawer.

Abbi felt restless, but knew it would be hours yet before she’d be getting dressed for the wedding. While she didn’t feel up to riding, a visit to the stables seemed a good distraction. She pulled on a simple day dress, one of her most comfortable, and barely put a brush through her hair. A light knock sounded at the door while she was putting on her shoes.

“Come in,” Abbi called and was surprised to see Marta. The housekeeper rarely came to her room.

“You must come downstairs at once,” she said, sounding mildly concerned.

“What is it?” Abbi asked, but Marta just hurried away.

Abbi followed her down the stairs, noting that the house felt unusually quiet. She was startled to find two officers of the Guard standing just inside the front door. Her heart beat painfully hard while she attempted to put herself in the frame of mind that she knew nothing about the possible extraordinary happenings taking place in Horstberg.

“Miss Albrecht,” one of them said, kind but firm, “we have strict orders that you are to come with us.”

Abbi fought for dignity and composure. Was she being arrested? Had the worst happened just when they had finally come so close? She let out an innocent chuckle and asked, “For what purpose?”

“Protection, Miss.”

That sounded better than being arrested. She pretended to be baffled. “Protection from what?”

“We have our orders, Miss,” was all he said.

“I’m supposed to be getting married at noon.”

“We’re aware of that, Miss, and we apologize for the inconvenience, but . . . we have our orders,” he repeated.

“Who gave these orders?” she demanded, wondering if Lance knew something she didn’t. Was
he
trying to protect her? If so, from what?

“We’re not at liberty to say, Miss,” the officer said and reached out to take her arm, making it clear he was finished talking.

Chapter Twenty-Three

RECLAMATION

A
bbi turned to look at Marta, whose concern was evident, but she forced a smile and said, “I’m certain everything will be fine, Miss.”

Abbi felt reluctant to believe her as she was led outside to a waiting carriage, where one more officer was standing, and another sat on the box seat with the driver. She was helped inside and the remaining space was filled by the three officers before the carriage rolled forward. While her insides smoldered with unfathomable dread, she wondered if all of the wedding preparations were now dissolving. The men were politely silent, avoiding eye contact with her as if that might avert any conversation or questions.

Unable to bear the silence, she finally said, “I must admit to feeling rather alarmed. I don’t suppose any of you have something to say that might help me understand what’s going on.”

The one who’d done all the talking looked directly at her and said, “Our orders were brief but clear, Miss.”

It’s Mrs.
she wanted to say. But Mrs.
what?
And where was Cameron? If Lance felt she needed protection enough to pull her away from the wedding, what did that mean regarding Cameron? Had he been arrested? Or worse? Lance was supposed to have spent the night at the house, but she had no idea if he’d returned or not.

Abbi wasn’t surprised to realize the carriage was heading up the castle hill, since that was the military headquarters of Horstberg. As the first officer stepped out into the courtyard and turned to help her do the same, she forced a light tone to ask a question that didn’t feel humorous in the slightest. “You’re not going to toss me in prison, I hope?”

“No, Miss,” he said, and motioned toward the main entrance to the castle, as opposed to the keep that was in the other direction. All three officers stayed with her as they entered and went down first one long hall and then another, flanking her so closely that it added to her sense of fear more than any amount of security. She’d never felt so afraid in her life. They stopped beside an elaborate door, but in this place, all of the doors were elaborate. An officer took hold of the knob but spoke before he turned it. “His Grace wished to have a word with you.”

“His Grace?” Abbi countered, wishing it hadn’t sounded so alarmed. Her fear heightened. She almost felt lightheaded. If Nikolaus was on to her to any degree . . . She couldn’t even think about it. Surely there was another explanation.

“There’s no need for concern,” the officer said. “He asked that you wait here where you can be comfortable. He will be with you shortly.”

The door was opened and the officer motioned for her to go inside. She only took two steps into the room before the door was closed behind her and she was left alone. Her surroundings became a distraction from her nerves. It was some kind of parlor, with the drapes pulled back and brilliant sunlight scattered over the elegant furnishings. It had a cozy atmosphere. Not at all the kind of room where she would expect to be intimidated by that arrogant beast who ruled this country.

“Don’t turn around,” a man’s voice said from behind when she hadn’t realized anyone was in the room. She was so startled that she couldn’t be certain if it was Nikolaus or not. The gentle tone lured her to believe that it wasn’t.

When nothing more was said, she asked, “Why not?”

“I need you to stay right where you are . . . just for a minute.”

Cameron?
She almost said it aloud, but feared the possible implications if she were mistaken. Instead she asked, “Is that you?” At the same time she wondered what he would be doing
here
.

Cameron took a moment to allow her presence in these surroundings to fill him. He felt deeply comforted by her appearance. With her hair down, wearing a dress that had obviously seen many days of riding in the sun and wind, she reminded him so clearly of the woman who had followed her dreams to save him from himself. And he loved her with all his soul!

Abbi heard slow footsteps moving closer. “Yes, it’s me,” he said behind her ear, and she took a sharp breath. She felt his hands on her shoulders, and the familiarity of his touch left her so relieved that she nearly melted into the floor. Forgetting his initial request, she tried to turn and look at him, but he held her shoulders tightly and repeated, “Don’t turn around; not yet. There’s something I need to say first.”

“All right,” she said, and drew a deep breath as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, then her neck. But it felt different. His beard was gone! Her curiosity made it difficult to ignore his order, but she did say, “You shaved.”

“Yes, I did.” He chuckled. “For that and . . . other reasons . . . you can now see the real me.” She heard him draw a ragged sigh, as if he were fighting emotion. More lightly he said, “I’m glad to know we’re already married, so we won’t have any bad luck with my seeing the bride before the wedding.” Abbi couldn’t comment. She was inexplicably relieved just to know that there would be a wedding. His voice became husky as he added, “This is the moment of reckoning, Abbi.”

“What are you saying?” she asked breathlessly.

His voice cracked. “We did it.”

Abbi put a hand over his where it held her shoulder, but it didn’t begin to appease her desire to throw herself into his arms and laugh and cry over such an announcement. A tiny sob came out of her mouth, and tears spilled down her face. “Then it’s over?” she asked.

“Not completely, but . . . I
can
show my face in public.” She tilted her head just enough to look at his hand on her shoulder and her heart quickened to see the red fabric of his sleeve.
He was wearing his uniform
. Elaborate gold braid around the cuff brought to mind the differences she had seen in what Lance wore. This was dress uniform, appropriate for a wedding apparently.

Cameron attempted to calm his pounding heart, but he knew it would never relent until he got this over with. “Through all that’s happened,” he said, “since the day I first allowed myself to consider the possibility of making you a part of my life, this moment has perhaps frightened me most of all. And now that I’ve said that much, I just need to hurry and say the rest. Please bear with me.” He sighed loudly. “I know you would likely prefer a simple life, Abbi, and it’s been difficult to accept that by making you my wife, I would be bringing you into a world that could be less than favorable for you.”

While Abbi’s mind was spinning too much to grasp what he might be implying, she hurried to say, “I told you I would take on whatever came with you, and I meant it.”

He sighed again. “Did you
really
mean it, Abbi? That’s what I need to know.”

“Yes, of course I did,” she said. “I love you, Cameron. God sent me to you. If He believes I can be a part of your life, then I must believe it of myself. But . . . what do you mean, Cameron? I don’t understand. Why did you bring me here and—”

“Abbi,” he put his lips close to her ear. His breathing sharpened and she could tell he was nervous. He spoke in little more than a whisper as he added, “This is my home, Abbi, and now it is yours.”

A hundred different floating pieces of information cemented suddenly in Abbi’s mind. She gasped and her own breathing turned sharp, while the only possible conclusion occurred to her. But the very idea felt so bizarre and unbelievable that at the same time she felt sure she had to be wrong. He let go of her shoulders and took a step back, silently retracting his previous order for her to keep her back to him. She felt both terrified and thrilled as she took a deep breath and turned abruptly.

Her heart caught in her throat. Only five seconds ago had the possibility crossed her mind, but even seeing the evidence left her saturated with disbelief. And yet everything made such perfect sense.
Everything!
He didn’t look as unfamiliar without the beard as she might have expected, but his hair was shorter as well, and more neatly in place than she’d ever seen. The uniform was breathtaking, and the red robe that flowed from his shoulders gave him the appearance of a mythical god. But it was the simple crown he wore on his head that left her beginning to comprehend her own place in all of this.

Cameron watched her closely and waited for a reaction. He’d imagined many different possibilities, including her insistence that he was out of his mind to think that she would ever live the kind of life he had chosen for her while she had remained ignorant and out of control of her own future. The pounding of his heart only became worse as she stared at him in dumbfounded silence, and he wondered how to break this harrowing tension that had no place between them.

While Abbi attempted to catch her breath and find her voice, she saw vulnerability in his eyes, but she saw something else there as well. It had always been there, but she’d never recognized it for what it was.
He had the eyes of a king.
She watched him take a deep breath and set his booted feet firmly together at the same moment he tucked his hands behind his back, beneath the robe. He bowed very slightly while keeping his eyes connected to hers, saying with firm tenderness, “Mrs. du Woernig.” He spoke her name as if they had just been introduced at a social event, while she could only attempt to accept that
she
was a du Woernig. With all the possibilities she’d considered that her name might be, that one had
never
crossed her mind. Recalling his confessions regarding his name, the enormity of what he’d been saying made such perfect sense. He hadn’t been talking about any name passed from father to son. He’d been talking about
the
name of Horstberg.