Behind the Mask (15 page)

“I’m afraid we’ll just have to wait until spring to know for certain,” Georg continued. “When the snow’s gone we’ll find her . . . one way or another.”

Georg felt sick at his own words and wondered how life could possibly go on without Abbi. Her friendship meant more to him than words could describe, and the emptiness that enveloped him was tangibly painful. Even with the knowledge he had that he couldn’t share, he found the likelihood of Cameron rescuing her next to impossible. Still, he refused to give up hope—as fragile as it might be. He prayed with everything he had that someone—anyone—had found Abbi in time.

“Georg,” Elsa spoke up, breaking the deathly silence that had come in response to his announcement, “I found this on Miss Abbi’s dresser. With all the commotion, I’d forgotten about it . . . but . . .”

Georg took the invitation and read it. He sighed and said to Lance, “It’s from the duke’s sisters. She was supposed to be there today. Do they know that—”

“I’ll tell them,” Lance said. “I’m going back there anyway.” He nearly sounded as if he might cry and Georg felt downright sorry for him.

With nothing more to be said, Georg hurried from the room, leaving the captain to comfort the ladies. Hot tears burned once again into Georg’s eyes as he rushed toward the side door, hoping the winter air would cool his emotions.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, Georg slipped out of his sleepless bed and got dressed. He crept into the house and up to Abbi’s room, searching noiselessly for the drawing book. He found it more quickly than he’d expected, tucked beneath her bed, hidden by the lacy coverlet that hung to the floor. Georg sat on the bed and held the book toward the faint glow of the lamp he’d set on the bedside table. Opening the cover, he found the drawing of the mountain ridge. It hadn’t been so long since he’d left supplies there, and he was amazed at the accuracy. The placement of every tree, the proportion of the ridge to the meadow. It was incredible. Then Georg turned the page. The covered bridge sketched roughly. Another page. The clearing where the tree had fallen. His heart beat quickly. It was a simple landmark, but it had to be passed to get to the trail that led to Cameron’s lodge.

“What does it mean?” he whispered aloud to the darkness, trying to piece together what little Abbi had told him. A dream. A promise.
Good heavens,
he thought. She said she could say nothing because she’d made a promise to someone. Who? What had she said? He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting to remember. Then the words appeared in his mind. She’d made a promise to the person she had dreamed about.

Georg laughed at himself. Surely he was making more of this than it could possibly be. Even if Abbi had dreamed of this ridge and the trail that led there, she couldn’t possibly have . . . Georg turned the page and nearly choked on the thought.
The lodge
. “Heaven help me,” he muttered and touched the rough sketch, unable to believe his eyes. Had she seen it? Had she been there? And if she’d made a promise to the person she’d dreamed about, had she . . .? He turned the page and his breath caught in his chest, refusing to let go as he absorbed the reality that he was looking into Cameron’s face for the first time in three years. He’d left supplies regularly. He’d communicated with him by the pigeons. In all that time, Cameron had never once agreed to see him, declaring that it was too dangerous. Yet here was evidence that Abbi
had
seen him. It was too vivid to be an image from a dream. Wasn’t it? Cameron looked older and careworn. His face was bearded, his hair longer, but there was no mistaking the eyes. She’d caught his likeness remarkably well, especially considering the roughness of the sketch.

Georg sat for nearly an hour, staring at the picture in front of him, contemplating what it could mean.
Abbi had spoken to Cameron
. As he put the pieces together he felt certain of it. The only possible explanation was that Abbi’s dreams had led her to Cameron. He was too carefully hidden to be found otherwise. And she had made a promise to the person she’d dreamed about so she couldn’t tell Georg. What other explanation could there be? Beyond that, Georg could only guess what had transpired. He’d sensed that Abbi was troubled by something, but her conversations with him had been cryptic. Oh, if she had only known what he knew!

Georg closed the drawing book and tucked it under his arm. He picked up the lamp and went quietly back to his own room, where he hid the book safely beneath the mattress. He couldn’t risk anyone else seeing this, especially Abbi’s friend, the Captain of the Guard.

Georg lay back on his bed and couldn’t keep from smiling. He felt certain now that Abbi had to be with Cameron. If something had happened to her on her way to the ridge, he would have found some evidence of it. And if she’d made it that far, surely she was all right. But did she have any idea that the dream she had followed was the means to answer many prayers? If she didn’t know now, he felt certain that before winter ended, she would.

Magda du Woernig got out of bed early, deciding that any attempt at sleep was pointless. She simply couldn’t rid herself of a nagging discomfort that had settled in when she and Lena had first realized Abbi wasn’t coming to their little social gathering. A message had come from Abbi the previous evening, stating that she planned to attend. Magda and Lena didn’t know Abbi well, but they both agreed they’d felt something special about her the moment they’d met. They’d both been very busy in the meantime, but when Nikolaus had mentioned he’d seen Abbi, and suggested that they invite her over, they had agreed it was time to stop putting it off. But when Abbi hadn’t come, they’d wondered if something was wrong. Of course, the weather was atrocious, and that was likely the cause, but for some reason Abbi’s absence had troubled Magda terribly.

She dressed and decided to wander downstairs, perhaps to pass some time at the piano. She was barely into the main hall when Lance Dukerk appeared, looking stunned to see her.

“Is something wrong, Captain?” she asked.

“Uh . . . I was just . . . coming to find you. I . . . need to talk to you.”

Magda felt uneasy. His expression alone let her know something was wrong. “What is it?” she asked and he turned his gaze so distinctly away that she had to wonder what kind of emotion he was struggling with.

“Could we sit down somewhere?” he asked.

“Of course,” Magda said and led him through the nearest door into the east drawing room. They sat together on one of the sofas and she turned to face him. “What is it, Lance? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Abbi,” he said. “She’s—”

“Is she ill?” Magda interrupted, certain that would explain Lance’s behavior as well as Abbi’s absence.

“No, she’s . . . lost, Magda.”

“Lost?”

“She went out in the storm, searching for a runaway stallion, and . . . she never came back.”

“Merciful heaven,” Magda gasped and put a hand to her chest. “Are you saying she’s . . .
dead?
” She whispered the last, hardly daring say it aloud.

“There’s a small possibility that some of the mountain people found her and took her in. But there are very few of them, and I fear it’s unlikely. If she is alive, she could be snowed in until spring, so there’s no way of knowing for certain until . . . until the snow thaws.”

Again Lance turned away, his expression filled with agony. “You care for her,” Magda guessed.

“Yes, I do,” Lance said.

“Dare I guess there is something else troubling you?” she asked gently. When he didn’t answer she added, “Are you thinking of Gwen?”

Lance nodded.

“We all miss her,” Magda said.

“She could be difficult at times,” Lance said, “but . . .”

“But she was still my sister, as she was yours. I think of her often, as well as . . .” Now it was Magda who turned her gaze away as emotion overtook her.

“Cameron,” Lance filled in her thoughts, but he said the name as if it were a dirty word.

“Yes, Cameron,” she retorted with the indignation of a princess. “His death was senseless. He didn’t even have the opportunity for a fair trial.”

“He was attempting to escape, Magda. You know as well as I that a trial would have seen him to the same end.”

“I don’t believe it,” Magda said. “He wouldn’t have killed her.”

“There is no evidence otherwise.”

“Of course you would say that. His absence has certainly left you in a fine position.”

“I did not seek out this position. Nikolaus insisted that I—”

“In Cameron’s absence, what else would he do? Nikolaus was only too happy to be rid of Cameron. I can’t help wondering if Gwen’s death had something to do with Cameron’s knowledge of Nikolaus’s indiscretions.”

“Are you implying that Nikolaus had something to do with it?” He was undoubtedly appalled. “I don’t pretend to endorse His Grace’s character, but surely he would not stoop so low.”

“I certainly don’t believe Nikolaus is capable of murder,” Magda said, “but that doesn’t mean he didn’t have
something
to do with it. It’s all too bizarre and complicated to even begin to know what happened. But Nikolaus becomes steadily more power-hungry, and he has many people under his thumb who are far from trustworthy. His improprieties are mounting. When Mother was alive, she kept him balanced. But in her absence, he’s becoming more and more deplorable. I fear what he may end up doing to this country, and that he will undo himself in the process. I can’t imagine the people putting up with it indefinitely.”

“What is there to be done about it? He is our ruler, Magda. There are no other options.”

“There are always options,” she said in an angry whisper.
“I
could rule this country, Lance. And before you point out the fact that I’m a woman, may I remind you that Lena or I have the power to choose a suitable regent—or to marry one. In spite of my preference to marry for love, I
would
marry for my country if it would free her from tyranny. There are
always
options.”

Lance looked utterly stunned before he said with an edge of sarcasm, “How very treasonous of you, Your Highness.”

She countered hotly, “You go ahead and tell Nikolaus I said it, and then you can give the order to have me executed.”

“You know I would never repeat any such thing.”

“I know or I wouldn’t have said it. But that’s how I feel, Lance. Revolutions brew when good people are subjected to such ridiculous tyranny. As his sisters we stand back and watch, wondering when the people might be pushed too far and we’ll
all
be executed.” She softened her voice and got to a point that she’d been wanting to bring up to Lance for a long time now. “Your position allows you a great deal of influence on Nikolaus. There is much resting on your shoulders. Cameron is gone and there’s nothing to be done to change that. But
you
must do all you can to influence Nikolaus for good, as Cameron would have, or at least he tried.”

“He left some difficult shoes to fill, I must admit.” He said it begrudgingly, and Magda knew Lance believed Cameron had killed Gwen. Still, his respect for Cameron crept through.

“Yes, he did,” Magda said. “And whatever he may or may not have been guilty of, I still remember him fondly. He will always have a place in my heart. It’s tragic the way Nikolaus has defamed him so thoroughly. Even in death, he could not acknowledge the good Cameron had done. He stripped him of all honor, with no mention of his rank or position. Cameron worked hard to get where he was, and he deserved better than that, but . . . listen to me rambling on. Forgive me, Lance. I didn’t mean to get off on a tangent . . . and with such vehemence, but . . .”

“But you miss him, I know.”

“And now Abbi is gone,” Magda said, going back to where their conversation had begun.

“Yes,” he said, coming to his feet, “but there is nothing to be done about it. One more reason to put heart and soul into my duties.”

“As Cameron did,” Magda felt compelled to add. She smiled in spite of his dubious expression. “Perhaps you have more in common with him than you think.”

Lance looked away abruptly. “I will do my best to guide Nikolaus appropriately,” he declared. “That is all I can do.”

“Thank you. That’s all we ask.”

Lance hurried from the room. Magda stared at the door long after it had closed. And then she cried. She cried for the friends and loved ones she had lost. And for Abbi. She hardly knew her, and yet the loss felt deep.