Behind the Mask (125 page)

Abbi’s eyes widened, and Elsa added, “Tell me. I’m not leaving until you do.”

Abbi still felt hesitant to talk, and she certainly didn’t know where to start. But Elsa asked specific questions and insisted that Abbi answer them, however difficult they were. A surge of energy came with the rage she felt as she repeated the incident in detail, then she crumbled with tears, while Elsa held her and their sons slept on the massive bed. After admitting to the truth of what Nikolaus had said and done, and how deeply it had affected her, Elsa took both of Abbi’s hands and countered with fervency, “Oh, my precious friend. Consider the kind of men who surround and revere you. When your good husband, and Georg, and the captain all admire and esteem you so deeply, why would you give credence to
anything
that Nikolaus said? You must not let him have power over your life this way.”

Something in Abbi responded to her words, but she still felt too much turmoil to fully digest it. Talking of Nikolaus led into talking of other things, and Abbi found herself pouring out her deepest hurts and fears to this woman she
did
trust without question. The babies woke and were fed and changed. Lunch was brought to the room and they ate, and then Elsa prodded Abbi more. She talked and wept, raged and grieved, while Elsa offered perfect compassion and acceptance, wisdom and understanding. And sometimes she cried with her. They were only interrupted once when Elsa went to talk with someone who knocked at the door, but she was quickly back, listening and encouraging her not to stop the flood of thought and emotion that had suddenly burst beyond a dam that had apparently been holding them back for months. She didn’t realize how much the strain of events in her life had been weighing on her until they came pouring out. From the moment she’d left Cameron behind on the mountain, fearing for his safety, and soon afterward discovering her pregnancy, she had been storing away layers of fear and worry, pain and doubt. When there seemed nothing more to say, Abbi just cried. And cried and cried, certain that now the dam had been broken it wouldn’t be easily put back in place. And then she slept deeply.

Chapter Thirty-Four

PERFECT EMPATHY

I
n the middle of a committee meeting, Cameron felt a sudden urgency with thoughts of his wife. He excused himself and hurried up the stairs, startled to find the door locked. He’d
never
found the door locked. He went into his dressing room and found the door into the bedroom locked there as well. He knocked, wondering what on earth could be happening. Elsa opened the door and slipped into the dressing room, closing it behind her.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded.

“She’s not doing well,” Elsa said, and his heart quickened with dread. “We need some privacy.”

“She’s not been doing well for months, Elsa. Are you telling me she’s
worse?”

Something in Elsa’s eyes left him in knots, even before she said, “Perhaps it needs to get worse before it can get better.”

“Will
it get better?”

“If I could answer that question, Your Grace . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence.

She took hold of the doorknob to leave and he stopped her, not ashamed to express his panic. “Please . . . give me something to go on here, Elsa. What’s happening?”

“She’s talking . . . and crying.”

Cameron felt some relief. In his opinion, she’d not done nearly enough of either for months; at least not that he’d been aware of. Still, he felt puzzled. “About
what?”

Elsa looked hard into his eyes, clearly unheeding to her servant status. It was Abbi’s friend who said firmly, “All the deepest, darkest secrets of her heart. And before you try to tell me that you’re certain she’s kept no secrets from you, allow me to remind you that
no
man could ever fully know a woman’s heart. If a man had no reason to keep guessing, the world would surely stop. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Her Grace needs me. I’ll inform you if there’s anything you need to know.”

Cameron watched her leave the room and heard her lock the door. He slumped onto a chair and pressed a hand over the ache in his chest. He
had
been certain that Abbi kept no secrets from him. Could it be true? Were there simply parts of herself that she wouldn’t share with him? He wondered if there were things in his own heart that he’d never shared with her. Were there memories, experiences, perceptions that he kept to himself? Perhaps. And maybe Elsa was right. Maybe Abbi needed a woman to cry to, maybe only a woman could understand. He could accept that, and he was grateful for Elsa, but it still pained him to think that Abbi would hold back something of herself from him, especially something that was causing her torment.

Cameron forced himself back to work, knowing there was much to be done in order to leave the country as scheduled. It was hours later before an officer came into the room, saying, “Mrs. Heinrich wishes to speak with you, Your Grace.” Cameron glanced at Georg, who was the only other person in the room.

“Thank you,” Cameron said, coming to his feet. Georg did as well.

Elsa came into the room, looking spent and exhausted. Apparently she too had been crying. But he was surprised when she took Georg’s hand, saying to him, “I need to speak to him alone.”

Georg nodded and kissed her quickly before he left the room, closing the door behind him. Cameron motioned her to a chair, and they were both seated. He didn’t know what to say or how to ask, and was relieved when she said, “I need to clarify something. Abbi has no secrets from you; not intentionally, anyway. But some things are difficult to talk about, especially with the person you love more than any other. I believe what’s troubling her most is tied into what Nikolaus did to her.”

Cameron sighed and squeezed his eyes closed; his stomach tightened. “Are you saying there are things related to the incident that she didn’t tell me?”

“No. I’m saying that her perception of it, and the way it affected her, are something that a man could never understand. A man could never fully comprehend that kind of helplessness associated with being so intimately violated.” Cameron’s stomach tightened further as she went on. “However, a woman who was raped at the age of fourteen could likely understand.”

Cameron gasped as he caught the implication, but he didn’t know what to say. She looked down at her hands as she folded them in her lap. “I was working in a household where my employer believed that his servants were equivalent to his personal property. I ran away and ended up in Horstberg. It was a miracle to get hired by Abbi’s grandfather. He thought I suited his granddaughter; said I would make a favorable companion for her.”

“Apparently he had good instincts.”

She ignored the compliment and continued with her purpose. “Miss Abbi has been one of the greatest blessings of my life. It’s difficult to see her struggling this way. But I believe the heart of the problem lies not so much in what he did, as what he said.” Cameron looked at Elsa hard. “And the power he was holding over her when he said it.”

“What?” he demanded quietly, trying to remember what Abbi had told him. Or was it something she might have omitted? Did it fall under the category of secrets that were not kept intentionally?

Elsa took a deep breath and looked away. She seemed disconcerted and burdened. “This is difficult to explain,” she said. “To simply repeat the words might make them seem trite and meaningless. It’s the perception of them that matters.”

“I understand,” he said, but he wondered if he did.

“Consider it this way,” she said with some confidence, as if she’d found the means to explain. “You’re a sovereign. You understand well the matter of treason, and how an act committed against the crown can have deeply adverse effects on the state of the country. If a member of one of your committees expressed ideas or attitudes that hinted at going against your opinions and beliefs, you would likely expel him from his position and have him replaced.”

“Yes,” he said, seeing a side to her he’d never seen before. Apparently she was even more well suited to be Georg’s wife than he’d ever considered.

“What does a woman do with opinions and beliefs that contradict the man she loves?

Especially when those ideas are political as well as personal? You see, in her heart she knows that on one point, Nikolaus was her ally.”

Cameron straightened his back, his defenses prickled. Elsa added firmly, “If she agrees with Nikolaus, and the point is disagreeable to you, then where does she stand? Nikolaus died a traitor, but his words keep validating what she believes to be true.” Cameron suspected the topic, but he wasn’t prepared for how deeply it would hurt when Elsa said, “He told her she could never be a duchess. And she agrees with him. She feels like a traitor.”

Cameron had to fight hard to hold back his urge to just allow the threat of tears to come forward, unleashed. He could only find peace in being able to say, “As soon as I take her away from here, being a duchess will no longer be an issue.”

“And then what, Your Grace?” Elsa asked, and left his peace tainted. “Will she spend the rest of her life banished as a traitor, always believing she let you down?”

“I don’t know what else to do, Elsa. If you have any suggestions, I would love to hear them.”

“I’m not disputing your decision. I have no answers. I’m only trying to give you some degree of understanding. Perhaps getting her away will make a difference, but it could create other issues. Still, perhaps those will be better dealt with once the present struggle is alleviated. We will work together to do whatever it takes to make her healthy and happy.”

She stood to leave, making it clear she had nothing more to say. “Thank you, Elsa,” he said, “for being there for her. Let me know . . . if there’s anything I can do.”

She nodded and left the room.

Abbi slept until supper was brought to her. After eating, she nursed the baby again before the nanny took him to the nursery. Cameron came into the room a few minutes later, and she realized she hadn’t seen as much of him these last few days. Perhaps he was especially busy. Or perhaps he’d finally grown weary of attempting to solve what couldn’t be solved. He greeted her with a kiss, and love mixed with concern in his eyes. But they had nothing to say to each other, and she was relieved when he extinguished the lamps and crawled into bed. She loved the way he held her close, but she preferred not to talk.

Abbi slept quickly, amazed that she could be so tired after such a long nap, especially when she had exerted no energy. She slipped into a fitful sleep, and found herself standing in the library of Albrecht House. She was fifteen again. Her grandfather was there, pacing the room, concerned and typically stern.

“I’ve arranged a marriage for you,” he said, his voice gruff. His demeanor made it clear he would not be questioned. “No better offer could possibly present itself. It is not negotiable.”

Abbi felt dazed as his declaration sank into her. She wanted to protest, and in spite of his firm stand, she felt certain he expected her to. She’d never been one to accept being forced into anything. She knew her grandfather loved her, and he would want what was best for her. In spite of his brash nature, he would always look out for her best interests. It wasn’t like him to make such a forceful, life-altering decision on her behalf without even consulting her opinion. And she certainly had an opinion, but her inability to speak was crippling and unnatural. Even while she watched her grandfather continuing to pace, repeating again his edict, Abbi knew she was dreaming, knew she should be seeking for hidden messages and symbols. But at the same time it felt real, and present, and horrifying. While her voice remained incapacitated, her mind screamed in protest.
I love Cameron; only Cameron. I can’t marry anyone but Cameron!

“In spite of certain appearances,” her grandfather continued, “he is a good man. He may not be kind and gentle, but he’ll respect you and see you well cared for. His wealth and position are beyond compare. A thousand women would envy such an offer. You cannot refuse him.”

The room swirled around Abbi while her grandfather circled her, barking phrases that left her feeling sold and slaughtered. “Your not knowing him is irrelevant. He finds you pleasing. He thinks you’re perfect. You will serve his purpose. You can give him children.
You cannot refuse him.”