Behind the Mask (113 page)

When Abbi realized Cameron was up and morning had crept in, she forced herself past her own sleepiness enough to interact with him before he left for the day. He sat on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots, and then he leaned over her and smiled as he touched her face in a way he’d done a thousand times. “Good morning, Mrs. du Woernig.”

“Good morning,” she replied and he kissed her.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the most amazing woman in all the world?”

“You are most certainly biased,” she said and pushed her arms around him, if only to avoid any eye contact that might let on to how discomforting such a statement felt. How would he feel to know the truth of her feelings? How could she ever share such inner torment with him when it would break his heart? But how could she
not
share such feelings when they were eating her alive?

“No, I am not,” he said with a little laugh. “Ask any person in Horstberg, and they’ll tell you the same thing.”

“Now, that’s exaggerating.”

Cameron looked into her eyes and soaked in the happiness he felt, just to have her a part of his life. He kissed her again before he walked to the window and pulled back the drapes to greet the day. His chest tightened and he took a sharp breath before he consciously understood why.

“Is something wrong?” Abbi asked.

“No.” He pressed a hand over his chest. “I mean . . .”

Abbi moved to his side and touched his arm. “What is it, Cameron?”

“Do you see it?” he asked in little more than a whisper. Abbi looked out the window, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. “Do you feel it?”

“Feel what? I don’t understand.”

She saw him come out of a daze and look down at her. “Forgive me,” he said. “That feeling in the air just . . . brought it all back.”

Cameron saw her confusion, and hurried to clarify. “Winter is at the door, Abbi.” He looked out the window again. “There’s just a . . . feeling in the air. The sky grows heavy, and the wind bites. The clouds look different when they’re filled with snow. That first snow of winter was always the hardest. It was like having a door slammed in my face.”

Abbi pushed her arms around him, understanding completely now.

“Oh, Abbi,” he murmured and held her desperately close. “You saved my life. That day . . . last year . . . once it snowed, I knew the end was inevitable. I couldn’t live like that anymore. I knew it was over.” She could hear his heart quicken, feel his breathing become labored. “I’m so grateful,” he whispered. “I never could have imagined where I would be in a year.” He pressed a kiss into her hair and repeated, “I’m so grateful.”

Abbi held to him tightly, feeling his gratitude soak into her. But as soon as he let go and stepped away, a coldness overtook her. He touched her chin and kissed her with adoration in his eyes. “I love you, Abbi girl,” he said. “You have a good day.”

He moved toward the door and she wanted to shout,
Doing what?
She felt the urge to go to the kitchen and cook her own breakfast. Or perhaps she could invade the laundry and wash out her own underclothing. She could only imagine the spectacle she might make of herself, and the embarrassment she would surely bring to her husband.

Once Cameron had left the room, Abbi turned back to the window to absorb winter at the door. How could she not think of that day last year, when winter had ushered her into Cameron’s isolated world, and into his life? She too was grateful—for the love they shared, for the freedom he’d gained, for the peace she saw in his eyes. But in the deepest part of herself, anger squelched her gratitude. Anger and sorrow. She missed the life they had once shared. The simplicity and togetherness of those months between their initial marriage and the coming of spring were precious to her. But they felt forever away. And she felt angry. Attempting to dispel her negative feelings, Abbi recounted all that was good. Cameron had given her a life that many women would envy. Why couldn’t she see in it what such women could see? What was wrong with her?

Abbi went back to bed, deciding that sleep was much less complicated than trying to reconcile with her feelings. Elsa woke her with a late breakfast, which she ate alone. She wondered what Cameron might be doing, then tried to convince herself that she didn’t care. When Elsa came to help her dress, Abbi insisted on wearing one of her oldest dresses, something that connected her to the life she’d lived before. And she refused to have her hair put up.

“If no one is going to see me,” she said in response to Elsa’s surprise, “then what is the point?”

After lunch, Abbi put on a cloak and decided to wander the gardens. She stepped outside and took a deep breath of
winter at the door.
And suddenly it wasn’t enough. She felt half crazed as she went back inside then hurried the other direction, out the front door, across the courtyard, and to the stables, where she knew Blaze was kept. She wondered how many days it had been since she’d even seen the stallion as she put the bridle in place, boldly brushing aside the servant who offered to saddle the horse for her.

“There’s no need,” she said, and stepped on a bale of straw to hurl herself onto Blaze’s bare back. She realized how long it had been when the weight of her pregnancy definitely impeded her agility.

Abbi broke into a gallop the moment she cleared the stable doorway, and Blaze’s hooves clattered on the stone floor of the courtyard. Before she reached the gate, she heard other horses and turned to see six officers mounted and following her. She stopped and turned to face them. “What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Going with you,” a lieutenant said firmly.

“I will be going alone,” she snapped, and headed out the gate. When it became apparent they were still behind her, she stopped again and found it surprisingly easy to sound like a duchess. “Go back and leave me in peace!”

“But, Your Grace, we—”

“What is the penalty for disobeying my orders, Lieutenant?”

He looked stunned but answered straightly. “Six days in the keep, Your Grace.”

“If you follow me another step, I will make it ten,” she said, and galloped down the castle hill, relieved to glance over her shoulder and see that she was free. With no deviation, she rode with fury toward the covered bridge, lured by the forest trail that lay beyond. She felt free again. She felt alive!

The office door flew open, bringing the committee discussion to an abrupt halt. Cameron looked up to see a young lieutenant, out of breath, looking concerned.

“I trust there’s a reason to justify this interruption,” Cameron barked. “Anything short of war and I’ll—”

“It’s Her Grace,” he said and Cameron came to his feet. “She’s gone, sir.”

“Gone?” he echoed, moving around the desk. Georg and Lance both stood as well.

“She left the castle, sir; didn’t even wait for her stallion to be saddled.”

Cameron headed toward the hall, motioning for Georg and the captain to join him. He grabbed the long coat by the door he’d worn this morning when he’d gone out. The lieutenant fell into step beside Cameron as he put the coat on and traversed the long hall quickly.

“Surely with a military escort,” he said.

“Six officers pursued her, sir. I was one of them.”

“And?” Cameron added, quickening his step.

“She ordered us to go back, and none too kindly, sir.”

Cameron exchanged an alarmed glance with each of the three men as he attempted to clarify, “She
ordered?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And I’m assuming you made it clear that
my
orders were for—”

“She asked me what the penalty was for disobeying her orders. I told her it was six days in the keep. She said that if we followed her another step she’d make it ten.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Cameron said and broke into a run.

“It would seem she’s learned how to give orders,” Lance said, keeping up with him.

“It would seem so,” Cameron said, his heart pounding with fear. His wife was unprotected, apparently angry, and significantly pregnant.

In the cavalry stables, they found horses saddled and waiting. As they mounted, Cameron said to the lieutenant, “I’ll not be needing an escort. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“But, sir, we have orders to—”

“Stay here until further notice, or I’ll make it
twelve
days.” He glanced to Georg, then Lance, who were already mounted. “The captain will cover my back,” he added and galloped out the castle gate, with Georg and Lance right behind him. At the bottom of the hill, Cameron said to Georg, “You check the estate and—”

“I will, but . . . we both know she won’t be there.”

Cameron’s heart pounded harder as he perceived the implication. “She wouldn’t!”

“Oh, I think she would,” Georg said, and Cameron pressed the mount beneath him to its full ability.

Cameron knew Lance was right behind him as they thundered through the covered bridge. At the edge of the forest, he hesitated long enough to say, “I need to go alone from here, Captain. Thank you.”

“But—”

“Just make certain I’m not followed.” He glanced toward the sky. “With any luck we’ll be back before that storm sets in.”

Lance nodded. “Godspeed,” he said and Cameron hurried into the forest, galloping at breakneck speed while his mind vacillated between prayer and anger. But he was well aware of fear hovering at the root of both. What bothered him most was wondering what might have possibly spurred such erratic behavior. What could have happened to trigger such madness? He tried to tell himself it wasn’t as bad as it seemed. Maybe Georg was wrong. Maybe she’d gone back to her home, and she really wouldn’t have been foolish enough to come up here with a storm brewing. He felt the temperature dropping with the rise in elevation, and the wind picked up along with the darkening sky.

Cameron emerged suddenly into the meadow, and his fears pounded audibly in his ears. He drew to a halt long enough to be sure his eyes were showing him the truth. There she was—his sweet wife, the wind tangling her wild hair while she tugged at the thicket to pull it away from the opening of the crevice.

“Don’t you do it!” he shouted, and she turned toward him. Even with the distance, he fully perceived her defiance and anger. But
why?
He felt his own anger squelch every other emotion as the possible outcomes marched into his head.

Abbi watched Cameron gallop across the meadow, as surprised to see him here as she was by the conspicuous anger that consumed his countenance. He halted beside her and dismounted, his long coat flying behind him as he swung his leg over the horse’s back.

“Don’t you do it!” he repeated, putting himself between her and the thicket.

“And what is the penalty for disobeying your orders, Your Grace?” she snapped, and Cameron wondered who this woman might be, impersonating his wife.

“Have you lost your mind?” he snarled.

“Maybe.”

“Do you have any idea the danger you are putting yourself in?”

“I just needed some time away. A little ride in the forest is not going to—”

“Abbi! Take a look around you! It’s going to
snow!
What were you thinking? You’d just come up here for a little reprieve, some reminiscing? A nap maybe, since the ride was tiring? What if I hadn’t known you’d left? What if you’d fallen asleep and woke up to three feet of snow? There’s nothing up there, Abbi. No food; nothing! Not to mention your leaving the castle without protection under the circumstances is
ludicrous!
We receive heated threats nearly every day, and you run off with
no
heed whatsoever to the possible repercussions! How could you do something so thoroughly
preposterous?”

Abbi slapped him before she realized she wanted to. She regretted it even before he pressed a hand over his assaulted cheek and turned to look at her, betrayal and hurt in his eyes. How could she ever explain how his anger had triggered a hundred plaguing thoughts and feelings? She reached up a hand to touch his face with the intention of offering some form of silent apology. But he grabbed her wrist and held it tightly. The hurt in his eyes disappeared behind the power of an angry monarch.

“The last time you did that,” he said, “I clearly deserved it. Perhaps you could explain to me what exactly I did to deserve it this time.”

Again Abbi acted only on impulse, spouting without premeditation, “You made me a duchess!”

Cameron couldn’t breathe. He let go of her and stepped back, more pained than when she’d slapped him. A formless weight was heaved upon his chest. He felt kicked in the stomach and internally bruised. The regret that rose in her eyes could never take back the truth that had just flown through her lips. He found it impossible to look at her. A thousand memories, fears, and emotions of the past year encompassed him all at once, contributing to the sudden weakness that threatened to suck his legs out from under him. He wanted to remind her that she’d pledged to stand by him no matter what, that she had agreed to take on the life that came with him. But such promises felt hollow now. She’d had no idea what she’d been agreeing to. He’d led her blindly into this world, and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for her unhappiness. He knew now the reason for her irrational behavior. He’d captured her like some wild bird and locked her in a stone tower. She had broken free with the need to simply fly, and no comprehension that she could never go back to the world she’d once known. Now that she’d been sentenced to her gilded cage, she couldn’t leave it without being in danger. Now he had to protect her against her will. He’d given her an exigent name, and forced her into a precarious position. And she hated him for it.