Behind the Mask (112 page)

“Well, I hate it. And I hate knowing that someone out there wants you dead.”

“Would you prefer ignorance?”

“No! I would prefer that my husband’s life be secure.”

“I hate it too,” Cameron said, hoping his gentle tone would soften her anger.

She immediately pressed a hand over her eyes and he knew she was fighting tears. “Forgive me,” she muttered. “I’m just . . . scared for you and . . . overwhelmed, but . . . I shouldn’t have taken it out on them . . . on you.”

“They understand,” he said. “And so do I. We all love you. Do you know what it means to me to have men working at my side who care for and honor you in ways that have nothing to do with their duty? Your protection and happiness is vital to them—and to me.”

“I know,” Abbi said, but she felt undeserving of such homage.

“I love you, Abbi du Woernig.”

As he said it, she realized that she’d grown to love her name—not because it represented royalty or prestige. But because it was
his
name. And nothing made her more happy than to be his wife. At the end of any given day, he was hers alone. She needed to remember that.

“I love you too, Cameron du Woernig,” she said.

He smiled and held out a hand toward her. “Come here.” She stood and took his hand as he eased her onto his lap.

“Look,” she said, holding up her left hand to show off her wedding ring.

“Ah, so you’re a married woman,” he said. “High time the scoundrel made an honest woman of you.”

“So I’ve been told. And he certainly
is
a scoundrel. But you should mind yourself. He’s a very powerful man. I knew it the first time I looked into his eyes.”

“And he knew the first time he looked into yours that he was eternally bewitched.” He kissed her. “Lost forever.” He kissed her again, slow and lingering. “Blissfully in love.”

“You’re very good at such sweet talk,” she said and kissed him. “Especially since I know you mean it.” Still again. “Do you have work to do?”

“Nothing that won’t wait.” He kissed her yet again.

“It’s a beautiful day. A walk in the gardens would be nice.”

He smiled. “I was thinking more on a walk to the bedroom.”

She laughed softly. “How about both?”

“What an excellent plan, Your Grace. But which order did you have in mind?”

“Oh, the gardens first, of course. Once we get to the bedroom, we could be there a very, very long time.” She kissed his nose. “We might need to have supper brought in.”

He laughed. “How scandalous you are, Mrs. du Woernig.”

“Of course,” she said and came to her feet. “I’m married to a scoundrel. But since we
are
married, I don’t suppose it’s really very scandalous.”

“I don’t suppose so,” he said as if he might prefer the scandal.

While they took a leisurely stroll, Abbi loved the way he held her hand—the way that normal people did. She forced thoughts of decorum and propriety—and any threat against his life—completely out of her mind and enjoyed every moment of this precious time with him.

Abbi began to feel more comfortable with the routine of the castle and her new way of life, especially if she ignored any evidence of ongoing concern for Cameron’s safety. Each time he left the castle with his military entourage, she held her breath until he came back. But with each safe return, she felt increasingly assured that he would be fine. She reminded herself often that he was now in the care of these well-trained men who had not so long ago been the ones putting him in danger.

Cameron worked long hours, but she figured that was to be expected under the circumstances. She felt certain it would ease up with time, when he’d had a chance to get everything back to normal. She spent a great deal of time with Magda and Lena, and she actually enjoyed traveling out of the country to attend Lena’s wedding, even though their military escorts were heavy. But Abbi ignored that and focused instead on the opportunity to see all of the social aspects of this life she’d been led into, without having to be at the center of it.

They had barely returned from the wedding when Cameron announced they would be hosting their own social event, which would go on for a few days, since dignitaries would be traveling from several countries in the vicinity. Abbi felt disconcerted to realize that while she had a good excuse not to go beyond castle walls and be a duchess, she would not be spared from having the need for such responsibilities coming within the walls where she had believed she could hide
.
Cameron talked with Abbi about how important it was to make these people feel welcome and for him to declare his return to power. Abbi didn’t complain, but she became steadily more nervous as the event approached. The housekeepers and cooks wanted her opinion on every decision in preparation, but she was more prone to trust their judgment in doing whatever had worked in the past.

On the day that their guests arrived, Abbi stayed mostly to her rooms, claiming to feel under the weather with her pregnancy. She preferred making her appearance with Cameron by her side at the social scheduled that evening. Elsa put Abbi’s hair up much as she’d done the last time Abbi had been required to wear the crown, except that she’d found a few late-blooming roses and coiled them into the carefully arranged curls, taking great pride in the results. Elsa admitted that she loved putting up Abbi’s hair. “My mother taught me at a young age,” she said. “She had been a lady’s maid, and she said the ability to do a lady’s hair would insure me a good position.”

“And then you ended up working for me.” Abbi laughed. “A woman who refused to wear her hair up.”

“Working for you has always been life’s greatest blessing,” she said. “But look at you now, Miss Abbi.” Elsa had continued using the
Miss
out of habit, but Abbi didn’t mind. It was much better than having her use a royal title. “I truly enjoy my work with you more than ever.”

“I’m glad I have you,” Abbi admitted, wishing she could find the same joy in her own
work
. “I’ll just have to keep to my rooms while you’re taking time off to have that baby.”

Elsa laughed softly. “Bruna does well. She’ll take good care of you.”

“I’m certain she will,” Abbi said. Bruna was sweet and competent. But Abbi preferred the idea of staying in her room.

Abbi was barely into her gown when Cameron came to get ready. He paused in his rush and absorbed Abbi’s appearance. “The two of you look absolutely stunning,” he said.

“Your son is making himself more prominent all the time.”

“Yes,” Cameron kissed her quickly, “but motherhood becomes you. You look more beautiful every day.”

Abbi waited with her feet up while Franz helped Cameron dress. He appeared wearing the robe and crown, taking Abbi’s breath away. How could she not be reminded of the day he’d revealed his identity to her? How could she not be freshly overcome with awe at the evidence that this man who loved her was of royal lineage? He took her hand and helped her to her feet, kissing her in a way that bridged the man with the duke.

Together they descended the grand staircase into the ballroom, just as they’d done the day they were married—except that now there was hardly a person in the room that she knew. She tried to relax and enjoy herself, but Cameron had to gently correct her at least a dozen times when she called someone by the wrong name, or the wrong title. She finally just stopped talking beyond answering questions as briefly as possible. But even then, she said things wrong. When the evening began to wear on her, she whispered to Cameron, “I’m going to bed. I’m tired. Make excuses for me if you must.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Yes,
she thought, but she knew he needed to stay. “No, I’ll be fine. Enjoy yourself.”

Since Elsa wasn’t expecting her yet, Abbi sat at the dressing table with the intent of taking her hair down herself. Instead she just sat there, staring blankly at her reflection. She was startled when the door clicked open, and she looked up to see Cameron closing it. He moved behind her until she could see his reflection in the mirror with her own.

“Have I ever told you,” he said softly, “that you look beautiful with your hair up?”

Abbi smiled timidly at him and started pulling the roses out of her coiled hair, if only to avoid talking with Cameron about how she’d embarrassed him. He removed her crown and put it away before he picked up one of the roses and brushed the petals along her cheek, and then he sat down where he could watch her, holding the rose close to his face. She removed the pins from her hair, and it fell around her shoulders where she brushed through it with long strokes, wishing Cameron would just say what he needed to say.

“You look beautiful with it down,” he said, and she set the brush on the table in front of her. Cameron moved behind her again, pushing the rose into the red curls just above her ear. He touched her face and ran his fingers down her throat. “Everything about you is beautiful. And I love you.”

Abbi sighed. “Why don’t you just say it and get it over with?”

“Say what?” He looked genuinely baffled.

“I embarrassed you out there.”

“What? You did
not
embarrass me in the least!”

“I did and you know it.”

“Abbi, I can assure you that I felt nothing but pride to have you with me.”

“I was getting everything wrong, and—”

“Did you think anyone would expect you to remember every person’s name and title in the first few hours? Good heavens. You were incredible out there. Everyone is in awe of you.”

Abbi stopped arguing, certain he only said such things to make her feel better. He had a good heart, and she couldn’t deny her appreciation for his acceptance.

“You should be with your guests,” she said.

“I’ll see them tomorrow. I want to be with you right now.”

“And why is that?”

“I thought we could gossip,” he said and she didn’t admit to her surprise. He removed his own crown and set it on the bureau, and she helped him with the robe, thinking she would prefer Franz’s job to her own. “I heard some absolutely delicious gossip in town today.”

“About who?” she asked. It wasn’t like Cameron to be so excited about common hearsay.

“About Her Grace, of course,” he said impishly. “People are impressed with you. They love the way you’re so kind, so comfortable to be around.”

“And how would anyone know? I’ve hardly been into town at all.”

“The times you were left a deep impression. The rumor is that you are staying in due to your pregnancy. The people pray for you. They love you.”

“And where did you hear that?” she asked, wanting to accuse him of lying.

“It’s gossip,” he said. Then he laughed, and Abbi felt certain he was teasing her.

Chapter Thirty-One

THE RUNAWAY

A
bbi did her best to let go of her negative feelings and enjoy some quiet time with Cameron. But the following day, she was required to be the hostess at a ladies’ brunch for all the wives and daughters-of-age who had come to stay. If Magda hadn’t been at her side, she knew she would have failed miserably. That evening, there was a more casual social for all of the adults. Abbi hovered close to Cameron and said little, feeling conspicuously out of place and inadequate.

The following day, their guests left Horstberg, much to Abbi’s relief. She prayed it would be a long time before they ever had to entertain guests again. But an uneasiness over the matter hovered with her. Cameron worked late into the evening, taking supper in his office while he tried to catch up from all the time he’d spent with visiting dignitaries. She went to bed without him, and left a lamp burning low on the bedside table. She wasn’t yet asleep when he came in, and she heard him getting ready for bed before he slid beneath the covers and doused the lamp.

“Hello,” she said, alerting him to the fact that she was awake.

“Oh, hello,” he murmured and eased close. She sensed his relief in being able to talk to her. She asked about his day; he said it was long. He asked about hers, and she said the same. He kissed her, and a minute later he was asleep. But Abbi stared into the darkness, holding her husband close, wondering what had happened to her life. She imagined herself riding Blaze at a headstrong gallop, feeling the wind in her face, letting her hair fly free. She thought of long days spent loitering in the stables with Georg, engaged in nonsensical conversations that occasionally intermixed with something profound and thought-provoking. She thought of cold, winter days with her and Cameron tucked safely in the lodge, cooking together, reading to each other, laughing and talking with no outside world to intrude upon them. How clearly she recalled the sound of his chopping wood and the sense of security she felt when he’d come in out of the cold and stoke the fires. And she’d been oblivious. Completely ignorant. She’d exchanged vows with a du Woernig, the Duke of Horstberg. She’d pledged her life to him with no comprehension of what that life would entail. And now she felt imprisoned. She could never dispute her love for Cameron. He was the most important thing to her; he had been since the day a dream had taken her to his door. She loved him with her whole heart. But he had a life that he now lived independent of her. And the aspects of that life where she was expected to participate had left her embarrassed and completely uncomfortable. She had to admit it. She loved her husband; she hated her life. And with the admittance came pain. While the night ticked on she cried and cried, fighting to keep her tears silent so that she wouldn’t awaken him and have to explain. But the battle made her head ache and her chest burn. She finally got up and left the room, sitting at the top of the grand staircase in her nightgown, crying herself into a numb exhaustion that lured her back to bed, and finally into an uneasy sleep, tainted with dreams that she didn’t remember when she woke up, but that left her solemn and deeply agitated.