Behind the Mask (56 page)

G
eorg stepped tentatively into the bishop’s offices, situated within the huge cathedral that dominated this section of town as one of the oldest and most magnificent edifices in Horstberg. There were several smaller branches of the church scattered throughout the country, but the Bishop of Horstberg oversaw them all. He was
the
religious leader in this country. And he was the man Georg needed to talk to. Georg knew him personally and knew he could be trusted.

“Georg, my son,” the bishop said as his assistant ushered him into the office. “What brings you here on a day other than the Sabbath?”

Georg waited for the assistant to leave and close the heavy door. He needed complete privacy. “I need some help, Your Grace.” He always found it ironic that the proper way to address the bishop was the same as addressing the duke—especially knowing Nikolaus du Woernig’s character.

“Sit down, my son. Sit down.” Georg sat across the huge desk. He appreciated seeing the bishop this way, minus the religious robes he wore on the Sabbath. “Now, what might the problem be?” he asked.

“It’s not for me, Your Grace, but for a dear friend.”

“Yes?” The bishop nodded.

“I need you to perform a marriage—secretly.”

The bishop said nothing for a long moment. His concern was evident and Georg waited patiently for him to ask whatever questions he needed to. Georg was prepared to answer them.

“If it needs to be done secretly, then something must be out of order in your friend’s life.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Obviously, it would be better for a marriage—any marriage—to take place properly in the church with—”

“Forgive me, Your Grace. I do agree with you. But these are extenuating circumstances. This friend was accused of a crime he did not commit. If he shows himself publicly, he would be arrested.”

“Perhaps he should wait until he can be exonerated of the crime before he marries.”

“I have high hopes that he
can
be exonerated for the crime, Your Grace. But we are up against a tangled web that is proving to be difficult to unravel. This man has been hiding in a mountain lodge for nearly four years. Through this last winter, he was snowed in with a young woman whose life he saved, and—”

“Ah, would you be talking about your young friend, Miss Albrecht, who started coming out to church with you recently?”

“Precisely,” Georg said. “In January, while they were in seclusion with many months still ahead before spring, the love they shared became evident. They took private vows, knowing that they would marry if there had been any possible way to do so. But there wasn’t. She gave him the courage to fight to prove his innocence, and we are in the process of that. In the meantime, well . . . he’s come down from the mountain now, and he wants to make the marriage right as quickly as possible.” Georg took a deep breath. “She’s going to have his baby.”

The bishop looked more thoughtful than upset by Georg’s story. He felt certain this man would agree to perform the marriage. But there was one more thing he needed to know.

“Your Grace,” Georg leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper, “I am talking about Cameron.”

The bishop’s astonishment didn’t disappoint Georg. His wise, methodical voice squeaked as he uttered, “But I thought he was . . .”

“Dead?” Georg provided. “Yes, as did everyone else.”

The bishop sighed deeply and his eyes filled with moisture. “Praise be to God.”

“Amen,” Georg muttered.

“But how could . . .” The bishop didn’t seem to know what to ask.

“We thought that having him believed dead would make it easier to prove his innocence. But it became more complicated than that. After some time passed, Cameron gave up hoping that he could ever be a free man again. Abbi changed all that.”

The bishop sighed again. “And now there will be a child. It’s a
miracle.
”

“Yes, it is,” Georg agreed easily. “And God willing, we might have the miracles we need to see this through.” He allowed a moment for this man to absorb all he’d heard. “Will you marry them, Your Grace? Tonight?”

The bishop smiled. “It would be an honor.”

“What time would be best in order to avoid any attention?”

The bishop thought a moment. “Half past ten. Come here. I’ll be alone.”

“Good then.” Georg came to his feet.

“But . . . we will need two witnesses.”

“I will act as one,” Georg said. “And I’ll bring another.”

“I would imagine Cameron has many friends who can be trusted.”

“Yes, he does.” They exchanged a smile as if they now shared a great secret—which they did. “Oh,” Georg paused, “there is one more thing—of great importance. Abbi does not know the full situation with Cameron. In truth, she doesn’t even know his name. He thought it better that way, considering the people involved. If something goes awry, her ignorance could keep her protected.”

“I understand,” the bishop said.

“I’ll see you at half past ten.”

Georg left the cathedral and hurried to the usual pub. Boris, who owned the establishment, including the rooms for rent upstairs, was standing at the counter.

“Ah, Georg,” he said jubilantly. “The usual?”

“No, actually,” Georg said. “I’m more in the mood for wine. What have you got?”

“Too many to tell. Come back and choose for yourself.”

Georg followed Boris through the kitchen and into a back room where he slid the rug aside and opened a door in the floor. Georg went down the cellar steps alone while Boris stayed above. “Did you see him?” Cameron asked, sitting up on the makeshift cot sidled between rows of kegs and wine racks.

“Yes. It’s all arranged.” He turned the wick up on a lantern hanging from the low ceiling.

Cameron sighed loudly. “I bet he was surprised.”

Georg chuckled. “Yes, I believe he was.”

“What did he say . . . when you told him I was alive?”

Georg looked firmly at Cameron. “He got tears in his eyes and praised God.”

Cameron squeezed his eyes shut. There were no words to describe what that meant. The bishop’s faith in him added a great deal to his hope that he could actually get beyond this and be a free man again.

“I must go,” Georg said. “Be at the cathedral at half past ten. And be careful.”

Georg hurried back to the house, praying that all would go well.

Abbi wanted nothing more than to hide in her room with the hope that Cameron would come, but she remembered Georg’s admonition to make everything appear as normal as possible. The little bouquet of wild-flowers she found on her dresser moved her to tears. She held them close to her face and inhaled their sweet fragrance as memories of picnics in the meadow flooded through her.

Forcing herself away from nostalgia, Abbi shared dinner with her aunts, all the while formulating the words in her head to excuse herself to her room for the remainder of the evening, once the meal was finished. A knock at the dining room door made her realize how jumpy she’d become. Then her heart pounded as Georg entered timidly, glancing her direction.

“Forgive me, Miss Abbi,” he said. “But it’s a matter of estate business that’s come up. Could I speak with you for just a moment?”

“Of course.” She smiled toward her aunts, proud of her calm demeanor. “Excuse me,” she said, and they nodded.

Once out the door, Georg ushered her to the far side of the hall, whispering carefully, “Meet me in the stable about ten. Wear your dark cloak, and perhaps . . . well, a nice dress.” Abbi wanted to ask a hundred questions. He smiled and leaned close to her ear. “You’re getting married tonight, Abbi.”

“Married?” she echoed, pressing a hand to her heart.

“Cameron wanted it to be official right away. I’ve arranged everything.”

Abbi felt so consumed with joy that she feared bursting into either laughter or tears. She hugged Georg and headed to her room to absorb the reality in private. The time passed quickly as Abbi looked through her dresses, trying to find one that would be appropriate. She settled on a cream-colored day dress that she’d hardly worn, mostly because the color was too light to be practical. Recalling that Cameron had said he wanted her hair down when they were married officially, she pulled out the pins and brushed it through. She was nearly finished when Elsa came to the room. Abbi was grateful to know that Elsa could be trusted.

“Going somewhere?” Elsa asked, taking notice of her dress. “So late?”

“Yes, actually,” she said. “I’m meeting someone. We’ll leave it at that. I trust you’ll cover for me.”

Elsa looked hesitant but said firmly, “Of course.”

“Thank you,” Abbi said, and Elsa took over brushing her hair.

At the appointed time, Abbi slipped out the side door and went to the stable, where Georg was waiting with two saddled horses, one of them Blaze. He smiled and helped her mount, and she followed him into the moonless night. They rode to a back door of the cathedral and tied off the horses before going inside. The bishop greeted them kindly, looking into Abbi’s eyes with a form of reverence. He obviously knew what was going on, but she found it difficult to believe that the Bishop of Horstberg would perform the secret marriage of a convicted criminal and be so pleased about it.

“Does he know about the baby?” Abbi whispered to Georg as they followed the bishop down a hallway into the main part of the cathedral.

“I told him everything,” Georg said. “He’s known Cameron since he was a child. He was so glad to know he was alive that I think he’d have done just about anything for him.”

That explained it, Abbi thought as she absorbed her surroundings. The huge cathedral looked eerie with only a few lanterns lit and some candles burning near the altar.

Abbi’s heart quickened as they heard someone coming down the same hallway, but a man emerged that she’d never seen before. Georg introduced him as Boris, a friend of Cameron’s who would serve as the other witness.

“All we need is the groom,” the bishop said, seeming almost as nervous as she felt.

A few minutes passed while no one said a word. The silence was broken by the opening of one of the huge doors at the other end of the cathedral. Abbi held her breath, but the room was so long and dark that she could see nothing.

Cameron stepped inside and took a deep breath. He’d gotten here with no difficulty, but he’d had trouble believing that this could be real—until he’d stepped through the door. The other end of the room was illuminated by a soft glow, and in the center of it stood Abbi, like some kind of angel. He took a deep breath and walked briskly toward her, amazed at how huge this place was.

Abbi heard footsteps on the stone floor, moving quickly. She caught her breath as a figure in a hooded cloak appeared from the darkness. He reached the bottom of the steps leading to the altar and stopped where the bishop stood to meet him. Pushing the hood back from his head, Cameron looked up into the bishop’s face as if he were being reunited with his own father. “Your Grace,” Cameron said as they clasped hands. Cameron went quickly to one knee, pressing his forehead to the bishop’s hands.

The bishop urged Cameron to his feet, murmuring quietly, “Cameron, my son. It really is you. God is surely smiling upon us to bring you back this way.”

“He surely is.” Cameron’s eyes shifted to Abbi. For a long moment they simply absorbed each other. Then he ascended the few steps between them and took her into his arms. They held each other tightly until he turned back toward the bishop, keeping an arm around her. “I assume you have met the woman who brought me back to life.”

“Indeed, I have,” the bishop said. “She is apparently an instrument in God’s hands to answer many prayers.”

Cameron inhaled the depth of the bishop’s statement and turned to look into Abbi’s eyes. “Yes,” Cameron said, “I believe she is—most especially mine.”

“Shall we begin?” The bishop motioned toward the altar. Cameron handed his cloak to Georg before taking Abbi’s hand and escorting her to the altar where they both knelt to face the bishop. There were no rings, no flowers, no music. But the vows they exchanged filled Abbi with contentment beyond description. She’d never been so happy in all her life. She only prayed that all would go well according to Georg’s plan, that Cameron would soon be able to come out of hiding and be a free man.

Cameron watched Abbi closely through the ceremony, marveling at what she had done for his life, his spirit. He wondered how she could be so trusting, to marry a man she knew so little about. Even the omission of surnames in the ceremony didn’t seem to concern her any more now than it had when they’d taken their original vows. As they kissed to seal their marriage, Cameron found it difficult not to laugh aloud. He’d never been so happy, never felt so much hope.

Abbi signed the marriage certificate first, and Cameron waited only a moment before Georg distracted her so he could sign his full name. The bishop and witnesses signed it, then Cameron rolled it up and handed it to Georg. “Keep that safe,” he admonished. “It’s priceless.”

“Your wish is my command,” Georg said with a smirk.

Cameron playfully slapped his shoulder. “It’s the other way around and you know it.” He smiled. “But I can’t complain. I’d be nowhere without your help.”