Behind the Mask (69 page)

“She was
precious
to me,” Lance growled.

“You didn’t even
know
her.”

“That’s a brave thing to say when you are at such a disadvantage. But I wonder if . . .”

In one agile movement Cameron threw a fist into Lance’s face with his left hand and knocked the sword to the ground with his right. He took Lance by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

“I can still best you,
Captain.
Now maybe the truth will penetrate a little better with the tables turned. I had no problem with politely tolerating the fact that her reasons for marrying me had
nothing
to do with love, because what little love I felt for her quickly vanished with the way she treated me behind closed doors. People can take public appearance and make whatever they wish out of it, but no one will
ever
understand how thoroughly she debased me. But when she began taunting me with her lovers, I reached my limits.”

“So you killed her!”

“That’s a brave thing to say when you are at such a disadvantage, Captain. If I told you I didn’t do it would that make you believe me? I did
not
kill her, though there were moments when I wanted to. Still, I grieved her death. But I grieved more for the life she lived. I grieved the friendship we’d lost, the horrible things we’d said to each other. Eventually I was able to separate my grief from the fact that she
was
a whore. And how she used me.”

Cameron let go and stepped back. Without breaking eye contact, he bent down and picked up the sword by the blade, holding it toward Lance. The captain wore a calm demeanor, but a quiet fury danced in his eyes as he took the hilt. For a long moment Cameron could feel him pondering whether or not to use it. He finally sheathed the sword, but the silence between them became grueling.

Unable to bear the deepening tension, Cameron went back to their previous conversation. “Enough about love. Let’s talk about power. I may have power over Abbi’s heart, but beyond that I am powerless. I am a fugitive. You are the law. And now you know that I’m alive and intent on stirring up trouble. You have the power to see that I live or die. What will it be when all is said and done?”

“Actually, the position I’m in feels just a little too powerful for my liking. If I do what I have committed to do, according to the law, you would go before a firing squad by the end of the week, and I could have marvelous incentive in being able to spend the rest of my life with the woman you leave behind. And she is, without a doubt, the most incredible woman in Horstberg.”

“You don’t have to tell
me
that,” Cameron said, struggling to remain collected while his insides churned.

“On the other hand, if I were
really
adhering to the law, I’d have to see
her
in front of a firing squad as well.”

“I am the one accused of murder, Captain. It has
nothing
to do with her.”

“I’m not talking about murder,” Lance said. “I’m talking about treason.” Cameron sucked in his breath as Lance continued, “Yes, treason. Such an ugly word—mostly because His Grace and I disagree on what exactly constitutes treason.”

Cameron’s heart quickened for different reasons and he held his breath.

“Perhaps you would like to cast a vote on that matter?” Lance added.

“A vote from me is meaningless,” Cameron said. “I am no one. I am nothing. I live in exile and hide in dark corners. I am a man without a country, and without a name—not even name enough to give my
wife
. And I did
nothing
to warrant this.
Nothing
. So, don’t stand there and taunt me with accusations of treason. You and I both know that treason is an act that goes against the best interest of a country and her people. I may not have a vote, but I sure as hell have an opinion. And in my opinion, that makes Nikolaus du Woernig more guilty of treason than any other person within these borders. If you want to put me in front of a firing squad for
that,
you’re as guilty as he is.”

Lance let out a weighted sigh. “Maybe I am. And if you were in my place?”

“What do you mean?” Cameron demanded.

“If you were in a position to do something?”

Cameron blew out a long, slow breath. “That
is
the cardinal question, now isn’t it? But a man deemed guilty of murder is not in a position to do
anything.”

“Are
you guilty?” Lance asked with a subtle snideness that grated Cameron’s nerves.

“What do you think, Captain? Now we are back where we began.”

“I have every reason to believe that you are guilty.”

“No, if you had
every
reason to believe I had killed her, you would have run me through before I had a chance to say hello. Maybe you’ve wanted to believe that I killed her because I was dead and the matter could be laid to rest, and any other possibility didn’t have to be considered. Well, I’m back. And if I were, according to law, allowed a fair trial with my choice of witnesses, I can assure you those accusations of murder would not stand.”

Lance said nothing, but Cameron sensed him taking in the idea. At the risk of making this situation even more precarious, he couldn’t resist the opportunity to add, “And speaking of trials . . . I wonder when or if Gerhard Albrecht will ever see a courtroom. Don’t you find his circumstances highly bizarre, Captain?” Hoping to prick his conscience he added, “Can you imagine how such a situation must appear to Abbi? How it must weigh on her?” Cameron wondered if Lance might connect his own claim to innocence with Gerhard’s situation. At the very least he hoped it might spur some reasonable doubt.

“I’ll admit to being troubled over Gerhard’s position.”

“That’s something, I guess,” Cameron said more sharply than he’d intended.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean anything can be done about it.”

“If you believe that, Captain, you underestimate the power of your own position.”

Lance’s next words sounded angry, or at the very least defensive. “What Nikolaus does is—”

“Don’t waste your breath justifying your endorsement of Nikolaus. He is a bastard and a tyrant. His baby sister could rule this country better than he does, and I’d bet my life that
somebody
holds knowledge that is a great threat to His Grace.” As he said it, Cameron realized he was doing just that—betting his life.

“You?” Lance asked, more intrigued than skeptical.

Cameron diverted the question. “I was talking about Gerhard. Does anyone beyond Nikolaus know the reasons for his banishment? If you don’t, who would? And if you stop to consider that . . .”

A noise startled them both, and they each stepped back into the shadows and waited. Never had Cameron’s frustration over Abbi’s place in this situation burned him more than it did when he saw her walk into the stable. He felt tempted to remain hidden and avoid any conversation with her under these circumstances, but her voice was tainted with worry as she called softly, “Hello? Are you here?” He’d told her when to expect him and he couldn’t leave her to wonder.

“Yes, I’m here,” he said, stepping out of the shadows.

“Oh,” she said with visible relief and pressed a hand over her heart as she moved toward him. “It’s past midnight and I was worried. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Forgive me,” he said.

“Were you talking to someone?”

“Myself,” he lied. She looked puzzled and he chuckled. “After all those years alone, you can’t expect me to be completely sane.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him tightly, pressing the side of her face to his chest. Not wanting to alert her to anything out of the ordinary, he put his arms around her and pressed a kiss into her hair. When she said nothing more, he murmured, “You should go back to bed. You need your rest.”

“I can’t sleep without you there. As long as you’re there, I’m not worried about you.” She looked up at him. “Is everything really all right?”

“I’m fine,” he said and smiled.

He cursed her perception when she said, “You don’t
seem
fine. Is something wrong?”

“No, no. Everything’s fine. You mustn’t worry. It’s not good for you. I’m just . . . a little distracted, that’s all.”

She sighed loudly. “I won’t ask with what, because I know you can’t tell me.”

“It’s better this way. You must trust me. It will be over soon.”

“I love you.” She lifted her lips to his, initiating the kind of kiss that would never take place in the presence of others. When he cut it short she looked alarmed. “Cameron?”

“Forgive me,” he said. “I just . . . need a few minutes. I was trying to . . . sort my thoughts when you came out. Go on inside, and I’ll be there soon, I promise. I simply need to be alone to think some things through.”

“Are you sure everything’s all right?” she pressed.

“Yes, of course.” He kissed her quickly. “I won’t be long.”

Abbi stepped back and moved hesitantly toward the door. He hated the uneasiness between them and hoped to alleviate it when he called, “Abbi.” She turned back and he said with the conviction he felt, “I love you too, and everything’s going to be all right. I promise.”

She smiled and left the stable. When he knew she was gone, Cameron let out a harsh breath. He wanted to be angry with Lance for creating such an awkward moment, but he was more prone to feel compassion.

“Forgive me, Lance,” he said. “I know this can’t be easy for you.” He turned to look at Lance as he stepped into the light.

“Nor you,” Lance said.

“But it is most difficult for Abbi.” He felt compelled to add, “She saved my life. She gave me a reason to live, to care, to go on. Whatever I may have done wrong in my life, wherever I may have fallen short, it is made right through her. I’ve done my best to protect her by keeping her as ignorant as possible—for her own sake. She doesn’t even know her married name. As you consider your place in the outcome, I beg you to consider
her
place foremost.”

“Of course,” Lance said and hurried toward the door.

“Captain,” Cameron said and Lance turned back, “on the chance that I don’t live to see the end of the week, I’m hoping you will still be at the wedding.”

“Oh, I’ll be there,” Lance said. “I suppose we’ll see who ends up kissing the bride.”

Cameron didn’t like the way he’d put that. Realizing he had no idea where Lance’s deepest loyalties might be, he had to ask, “I would be very grateful to know where we stand.”

“I can only speak for myself,” Lance said. “In spite of certain obligations which cannot be ignored, whether I agree with them or not, I will continue to do all that I am capable of in the best interest of my country and her people. And as far as I’m concerned, this conversation never occurred; I never saw you.”

Once Lance was well out of sight, Cameron staggered a few steps backward and leaned against the side of a stall, stunned at how his encounter with the captain had sucked the strength out of him. But at least he wasn’t dead or on his way to prison. He pressed his hands over his thighs and lowered his head, struggling to take a deep breath. Contemplating the possible outcome of such an encounter, he had to thank God for keeping him protected. As for what lay ahead, he could only pray that Lance had meant what he’d said, that his knowledge of the situation would be kept to himself.

Recalling that Abbi would be watching for him, he gathered his composure, doused the lantern according to Georg’s instructions, and hurried discreetly across the lawn where he climbed the trellis to Abbi’s window. He couldn’t help wondering if Lance was still on the grounds, or worse, still aware of him. He imagined getting shot in the back before he reached the balcony and his insides rumbled with alarm. Slipping carefully into Abbi’s room, it was easy to quell his own fear when he came face-to-face with hers. Or was it anger? She was sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed, eying him skeptically.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, throwing his cloak over a different chair.

“You tell me. You weren’t yourself out there. Something’s not right. And don’t try to tell me it’s my imagination or—”

“Abbi,” he knelt in front of her and took both her hands, “you’re right. I wasn’t myself out there, and I ask you again to forgive me . . . for being late, for worrying you, and for
not
being myself. You just . . . caught me at a bad moment. You see . . . I saw someone tonight. Someone I once knew very well. He said things that were difficult to hear, and well . . . I was just trying to think it through and . . . sort it out. I was upset. I lost track of the time. I’m sorry.”

Abbi couldn’t deny feeling better to hear a plausible, genuine explanation. And now that he was here, she could put her anxiety on hold—at least for a while. Sensing that he was troubled, she asked, “What things?”

“What?”

“What things did he say that were difficult to hear?”

Cameron looked down. “It doesn’t matter.”

“You mean it’s better left unsaid.”

He sighed. “Perhaps. I was just . . . struck with . . . the passing of time, the way things have changed, all that I’ve lost.” He eased closer and wrapped her in his arms, putting his head to her shoulder. “One day,” he said, “I will have no secrets from you. I will tell you everything and anything until you become utterly bored with such tedious thoughts.”

Abbi pushed a hand through his hair and laughed softly. “Never bored to hear your thoughts, whatever they may be. I am looking forward to that day.”

“Yes, so am I,” he said and tightened his arms around her.

Searching out a distraction, for himself as much as for her, he came to his feet saying, “Come downstairs with me.”

“Whatever for?” she asked.

“I need to,” he insisted. “Do you think we can make it without being seen?”

“Everyone’s long asleep by now, but why do you—”

“Just . . . humor me.”

With a lamp in Cameron’s hand, they crept down the stairs and to the winter parlor, where he sat with purpose at the piano and quietly picked out a simple melody.

“What are you doing?” she asked, sitting beside him on the bench.

“I’ve had this in my head for months,” he said. “I came up with it after you left the mountain, and I couldn’t wait to hear what it would sound like.”