Behind the Mask (104 page)

“What he
gave
to me?” he countered hotly, as if she’d lost her mind.

“He freed you from a doomed marriage and put you in a position that gave you the opportunity to become a better, stronger man. He made it possible for you and me to have a life together.”

Cameron sat down in the window seat, suddenly weak. While he was trying to accept that she was right, she drove the message a little deeper when she added, “Sometimes the best things in life come out of the greatest adversity.”

“So they do,” he admitted, and his heart felt soothed. He knew it
would
take time to heal, to forgive, to move on. But with Abbi at his side, he knew it was possible. She had a way of making
anything
seem possible. And he couldn’t deny, given the choice, that he would go through it all again just to have her.

Through the days that followed, Abbi prayed for courage and consciously fought to replace her fears and concerns with the reminder that Cameron loved her and he had the faith in her that she could fulfill her role as a duchess. They spent long hours talking about orders of echelon and matters of state. He told her the political history of Horstberg in amazing detail and the current status of every country that neighbored Horstberg.

“How do you know all of that if you’ve been gone for four years?” she asked.

“I’ve been spending these last weeks catching up. There were many people I worked with before who remained loyal to me. And Georg managed to remain aware of many things that have occurred in my absence.” Cameron chuckled. “Actually, he has the brains, you know. If I ever need a problem solved, he’s the one who can figure it out.”

Abbi thought deeply on that. She felt so in awe of all the information that continued pouring out of Cameron’s brain. Did Georg know all of this and more? It was almost frightening to comprehend that these men she cared for had aspects to their lives that left her completely baffled. The very idea was disconcerting, but she forced herself to keep learning and not think too hard about anything else.

Cameron wrote down lists of names and titles of members of the royal families of neighboring countries. He told her they socialized frequently with these people, mixing dinners and dancing with political discussions and negotiations. Abbi worked hard to memorize the list, and Cameron drilled her on it as they’d go about their usual routine of cooking and working together.

One difference in Cameron’s routine was that he now shaved every day. But Abbi loved to watch him do it—especially since he never wore his shirt when he did. And she loved the fragrance that lingered from his shaving soap. She typically pressed her hands over his face and kissed him when it was done. Ten days into their honeymoon, she noticed that it no longer hurt at all when he kissed her. With that thought in mind, she pressed her hands over his chest and said, “The bruises are fading.” And he’d long ago stopped wearing any bandaging over the bullet wound that was healing well.

“Yes, they are,” he said, touching her face where she’d been bruised herself. “Perhaps we shall be able to put the past behind us, after all.”

“Not all of it,” she said and smiled. “The past I shared here with you is something I will always treasure.”

“Amen,” he said, and kissed her.

Later that morning, Cameron pushed back the furniture in the common room and left it that way for a few days as they practiced dancing, royal curtsies, and even walking. Abbi was surprised to learn that Cameron had been trained in his youth in swordplay and archery. And his marksmanship with a pistol was incredible. He hadn’t been raised to be a foppish king who expected to be protected and waited upon. He was a highly skilled warrior and a man capable of taking on any task that rose before him—which was made evident by the years he’d spent in solitude, completely caring for himself. She mentioned what Lance had told her about all the training entailed in a military career. While Cameron was humble about his experience, it was evident he’d been guided through more rigorous extremes in nearly every respect. He’d been raised to be a leader, to be at least as skilled as any military personnel who might accompany him.

Abbi was also surprised to hear him talk of his father with respect and admiration. “Now, wait a minute,” she said. “I’ve heard you express some severely negative feelings toward your father. You’ve told me that his example was something you were trying to overcome and—”

“Let me clarify,” Cameron interrupted.

“I wish you would.”

“On a personal level, my father was a very harsh man. He showed absolutely no love or affection toward his children, or his wife. I was too naive to figure it out at the time, but when I became an adult and looked back, it was evident that he’d been unfaithful to my mother. He considered the marriage a political union and the means to produce heirs. In that respect, Nikolaus was very much like him.
But,”
Cameron emphasized, “in matters of state, in spite of my father’s harsh ways, he was a genius. He knew and cherished Horstberg. I didn’t always agree with the way he handled things. He had an iron hand, and he demanded obedience whether he was right or not.”

“Which is also like Nikolaus.”

“Yes. But he never would have tolerated the way that Nikolaus forced citizens into poverty in order to serve his own greed. And I do have to say that my father kept Horstberg independent and strong as a country through some terribly difficult years. I told you about that already.”

“When the Baron of Kohenswald was attempting to take over Horstberg and—”

“That’s right. Very good, Your Grace.”

“Why do you call me that? I’m your wife.”

“Yes, you are. But when we are in public, I will address you by title, and you will do the same to me.”

Abbi sighed. “I hope we don’t have to be in public very often.”

“It’s not as bad as all that,” he insisted. “And if you’ll just give me a chance, I’ll prove it to you.”

“All right,” she sighed, attempting to conceal how thoroughly she disliked the idea. “You were talking about your father.” The conversation went on while Abbi did her best to absorb everything she needed to understand in order to become a woman worthy of standing at Cameron du Woernig’s side. But in her heart, she wondered if she ever could.

Thoughts of her inadequacies hovered with her through the course of her training, and they were spurred on by the memory of Ramona’s criticism—which brought to mind another unanswered question.

“How is it that you knew my aunt Ramona?” Abbi asked one morning at breakfast.

He simply answered, “She is Gwen’s stepmother.”

“Of course,” she said, feeling a little stupid for not seeing the obvious.

She was wondering what horrid adventure Cameron would lead her through today when he asked, “Have you ever ridden sidesaddle?”

“Sidesaddle?” she echoed as if it were a dirty word.

Cameron laughed. “I just happen to have one in the stable. It’s a beautiful day. Get dressed. We’re going riding.”

A few minutes later, Abbi took a long look at the saddle and wrinkled her nose. “How can you really ride with something like that?”

“Let me clarify,” he said.

“I wish you would.”

“You may go riding anytime you please, Abbi. You are the duchess. You may ride where you please. And how you please. I know that my sisters own riding habits that allow a lady to ride comfortably in a regular saddle without being the least bit immodest or inappropriate.”

Abbi sighed.
Riding habits
. She wished she had listened to Aunt Ramona’s harping. That alone made her shudder. “All right. So, why a sidesaddle?”

“Because there are certain, special occasions when we ride into town, sometimes as a procession to—”

“Procession?” she practically shrieked, and he laughed. “Isn’t that just for weddings and funerals?”

“And many other odd things. Oh, Abbi. If you just get through one week of being the duchess, you will realize how absolutely easy it is.”

“You call this easy?” she countered, unable to understand how he could be so amused when she was shaking inside.

“Just be patient—with yourself and with me.”

“I will if you will,” she replied and motioned toward the saddle. “Help me into that thing, and then you can tell me about this procession.”

Abbi sat in the saddle and hooked her leg around the special horn. She hated it for the first hour, but when it became evident that she didn’t have to ride quickly in these processions, she relaxed and found that she could be fairly competent. As they rode, Cameron discussed the purpose of members of the royal family going into town each week on market day, simply to illustrate to the people that they were alive and well. “It gives the country an underlying sense of security,” he said. “If they never see us, they don’t know what’s going on up in that castle, and they start to get nervous. But if we go into town and interact like normal people, it seems to help.”

“I like that
normal people
part,” she said.

Cameron chuckled. “I know all of this seems overwhelming. And there are certainly moments when we have to endure some pomp and flamboyance, but I think you’ll be surprised at how very normally we live.”

Abbi took a long look at her husband and had to admit, “Maybe I won’t be so surprised.”

“You’re doing beautifully,” he said. “I know this hasn’t been much of a honeymoon, but I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

“You already have.”

“How is that?”

“I’m not honeymooning with the captain, now am I?”

Cameron chuckled. “No, thank heaven.”

After they had returned to the lodge, Abbi asked, “Did your father do this weekly procession into town?”

“He went into town regularly, but . . . I didn’t really like the way he could never step out of being the duke. For me, I’ve always wanted to be a part of the people, not to set myself above them. I look at my position more as a great responsibility—to serve the people and see them cared for. I think my father did too, but he had an arrogance about him that—”

“That Nikolaus exemplified well.”

“Indeed,” Cameron said. “I believe that being close to Georg all of my life has helped me keep that balance. He never let me get too arrogant. He always reminded me of the common man’s perspective.”

“How
did
you and Georg become friends?”

“Ah,” he chuckled, “I’ve known him as long as I can remember. His father worked at the castle as a blacksmith. They lived in one of the servants’ apartments, and we naturally gravitated to each other as playmates. When his father died, Marta didn’t want to stay there. She got a job for the Albrechts, and your grandfather put Georg to work in the stables at a fairly young age.”

“He was there as long as I can remember.”

“We kept close touch. We met nearly every day at a halfway point where we could ride together. When we were old enough, we began meeting at the pub and . . . well, you know the rest.”

Cameron pulled himself out of his memories and looked into Abbi’s eyes. “We must go back tomorrow.”

“I know.”

“You’re going to do beautifully, my love.”

Abbi quelled the smoldering in her stomach and fought back the urge to argue with him. “As long as you’re right beside me, telling me what to do, I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll be there,” he promised. “Forever.” Then he kissed her long and hard.

Early the following morning, they lay holding each other, neither wanting to get out of bed.

“Are you still afraid?” he asked.

“Yes, but . . . I feel more prepared.”

“That’s good.”

“And . . . I must admit, I’m not as afraid as the last time I had to leave here.” She leaned up on one elbow and looked into his eyes. “I don’t have to leave without you, wondering when or if I’ll ever see you again.”

“That’s right,” he said. “Whatever we take on from here, we take on together.”

“I love you, Your Grace,” she said. And Cameron smiled.

They waited until late afternoon to leave, not emerging from the forest until evening. They rode discreetly into the castle courtyard. But the moment they appeared, servants hurried to take their horses, and the officers of the Guard on duty went to attention, standing rigidly as they passed by. Cameron greeted everyone warmly and walked inside with Abbi’s hand in his, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And to him it surely was.

They’d not been home long when Cameron went to the office to meet with Georg and the captain in order to be updated on all that had progressed in his absence. Abbi went to her sitting room to visit with Elsa, who looked much more pregnant than when they had left. But rubbing her own rounded belly, Abbi knew her own baby had grown significantly since the wedding. She learned that Elsa and Georg had settled into an apartment in the castle, and Elsa was unquestionably happy. In fact, she seemed so pleased about the entire situation that Abbi wondered what was wrong with her that she couldn’t be pleased with circumstances that everyone else seemed ecstatic over.

“You know, Elsa,” Abbi said, “you really don’t have to continue working for me.” Elsa looked astonished, but Abbi felt the need to clarify her purpose. “I’m certain Georg’s salary allows you to live very comfortably.”