Behind the Mask (7 page)

Elsa let out a surprised gasp.

“Lance?” Abbi laughed. “I’ve never even met him.”

“Oh yes you have, my dear. But it was such a long time ago, I doubt you’d remember. No matter. He is here now and he’s brought a friend with him. You must hurry along—and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be meeting the man you’re to marry.” Salina giggled like a child scheming a joke on a playmate. Abbi simply brushed past her and down the stairs. One thing was certain: she would not have anyone choosing a husband for her.

Hesitating at the open doorway of the drawing room, Abbi was able to get a quick glance at these guests before they saw her. Both men were equally tall, and their presence alone had transformed the climate of the room. The darker of the two men was dressed more elegantly than she’d ever seen any man; his clothing was fine and distinguished. He seemed preoccupied with a picture that hung near the fireplace. The light-haired man wore the uniform of the Duke’s Guard, although she couldn’t recall ever seeing the fine red and black coat so closely before. On one hip he wore a sword, on the other a pistol, like the officers Abbi had seen with her father. He seemed nervous until he became aware of Abbi’s presence. As their eyes met, he became totally attentive, while the other man continued to gaze at the picture.

“Ah, Lance.” Ramona appeared from behind Abbi and swept past to take the light-haired man’s hand as they exchanged a casual kiss. “You remember Abbi, don’t you?”

“I do indeed,” Lance said with a deep, melodious voice, stepping forward to kiss Abbi’s hand. “But you have changed. Why, you’ve grown up very beautifully.”

“I’m sorry I don’t remember you,” Abbi said softly, feeling more intrigued by the other man who was still preoccupied with that picture, which she thought was a rather ugly depiction of a farmhouse. Then he turned and met her eyes with a shameless gaze, and she sensed that his preoccupation had simply been an effort to be coy.

“Why, Lance, where are your manners?” he asked casually.

“Ah yes,” Lance said with light sarcasm. “Your presence is so powerful I almost forgot you were here.”

“I’ll have your head for that,” the man retorted with a smirk, not taking his eyes from Abbi.

Lance casually introduced the three ladies, then said, “May I present my dearest friend, Nikolaus du Woernig.”

With that, Nikolaus stepped forward and announced, just before he kissed Abbi’s hand, “The Duke of Horstberg.”

Abbi’s aunts curtsied deeply on either side of her, but she chose to simply face the duke, sensing an arrogance about him that challenged her. Still, she had to admit he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. The dark coat and brocade waistcoat he wore set off his muscular build smartly and enhanced his straight, dark hair. His eyes bored into her without shame, but Abbi smiled as she stared back at him, liking him despite his intrepid manner.

“Calm yourself, Nik,” Lance said. “I saw her first.”

“I believe dinner is ready,” Salina interrupted with awe in her voice, clearly a result of their royal visitor.

“Yes,” Ramona added, sounding subtly nervous. Abbi wondered if she had known the duke would be Lance’s guest. “I believe dinner is ready, Your Grace.” She nodded toward Nikolaus. “Let’s all move to the dining room. Dinner is ready.” Abbi followed her aunts while their guests fell in step with her, each taking an arm.

With Abbi seated between the two men, each trying to regale her with tales of heroism, the meal passed by too quickly. Unaccustomed to male attention, Abbi was beside herself with pleasure. Papa had never made an effort to give Abbi a social life, but until now she had never realized her seclusion. Now she knew how it felt to be admired, and she relished their attention. She had never considered herself very pretty, but the way these two were acting toward her, she felt like some kind of goddess.

Abbi’s aunts were equally taken in by the conversation and seemed to be having the time of their lives. Despite Horstberg being a small country, they couldn’t help knowing that Nikolaus du Woernig, as its ruler, was an extremely important man. And they treated him with no less respect and admiration than they would the King of England.

When dinner was through and Ramona had Lance busy telling her about his experiences as Captain of the Guard, Nikolaus took Abbi by the arm and led her quietly back to the drawing room. He motioned for her to sit down, seating himself much closer than necessary.

“Tell me,” he said directly, “would you by chance be related to Gerhard Albrecht?”

Abbi glanced sharply toward him, wondering what this man might know about her father. “I am his daughter.”

“Ah.” He leaned back, scrutinizing her as if they’d just met all over again. Abbi wondered if her relationship to Gerhard Albrecht would affect his opinion of her. “And I daresay,” he went on, “that you don’t see him much these days.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I hear he’s not been around the last few years. Got himself into some sticky trouble with the law.”

Abbi said nothing. She wondered if it was simply coincidence that her father was accompanied monthly by officers of the Duke’s Guard, and this man was the duke. A hard look came briefly to Nikolaus’s eyes, but he smiled it away and she wondered if her fear had made her imagine it.

“Abbi, my sweet,” he said as if the previous conversation had not transpired, “how often have you been told what a beauty you are?”

“Does my grandfather count?” she asked, her intrigue for Nikolaus settling a little deeper.

“Hardly,” he replied, apparently pleased.

“Then this is the first.”

“Come now,” he said with a devilish grin, putting his arm around her shoulders. “Can I really be so lucky as to come upon first love?”

“Is that what you call this?”

“I do indeed. I intend to make it known here and now that I want you for my very own.”

Abbi couldn’t believe the Duke of Horstberg was saying such things to her. Not knowing how to respond, she remained silent, wanting him to go on, hoping the night would never end.

“How would you feel about that, my sweet?” he asked.

“It’s hard to say,” she said. “It’s been such a short time and . . .”

Not waiting for her to finish, Nikolaus pressed his lips to hers with a warm kiss. Abbi couldn’t believe that her first kiss was from the duke. She couldn’t help but enjoy it.

“And your kiss is sweet, too,” he whispered, pulling back.

Flushed and flustered, Abbi searched for small talk. “So,” she said, moving away slightly, “your family name is du Woernig. It doesn’t sound German, really.”

“The Woernig is German,” he stated, disinterested in the topic. “The prefix comes from Norman ancestors. It was some odd marriage way back, with some great royal merger. Dull story. Say you’ll be mine, Abbi.”

“Wouldn’t it be bad manners to refuse the duke?” she said, trying to remain noncommittal.

“Indeed.” He smiled and kissed her again, stirring something in Abbi that she didn’t understand. But she felt her hands moving around his neck, lingering in his soft, dark hair.

From somewhere in the room Abbi heard a deep voice say something indiscernible. She thought that being caught in a kiss should be embarrassing, but Nikolaus continued, as if being the duke allowed him to do anything he wanted.

Abbi was surprised to feel a hand take hers from behind Nikolaus’s head and pull her reluctantly from his grasp.

“Now, Nik,” Lance said with forced amusement, “I think you’ve overwhelmed her enough for one night. Look elsewhere for a distraction, dear friend. I’ve got plans for this one.”

Abbi was led from the room while Nikolaus leaned back and sighed triumphantly.

“I must apologize for his behavior,” Lance said with barely concealed annoyance as they walked out into the evening air. “At times his position makes him a little overbearing.”

Still overwhelmed by Nikolaus’s boldness, Abbi paid little attention to the comment.

“I’d like to talk with you, if I could,” Lance continued.

“What is it?” Not wanting to be rude, she forced herself to be attentive.

As Lance removed his coat and put it around her shoulders, Abbi noticed that he too was handsome, yet in a much different way. Though his build was much like Nikolaus, his face was meeker. Lance’s pale hair had a soft wave to it, and his blue eyes were less bold. In truth, she found it difficult to imagine him as Captain of the Guard if not for the uniform and the dignified way he wore it. Beneath the coat he’d removed he wore a tight-fighting, high-collared white shirt, with dark braces over his shoulders.

“I didn’t want to bring this up tonight,” he said without expression, and Abbi sensed he was having some difficulty mustering up the courage to speak, “but my friend’s advances have left me little choice.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean that if I don’t make a claim on you now, I might not get one.” He paused and looked skyward. “My stepmother has made it clear how delighted she would be if . . .” He cleared his throat. “. . . If you and I were to marry, and I . . . what I’m trying to say is that I don’t think it’s such a bad idea, and rather than going on pretenses, I wanted to tell you straight out that I’m interested in the possibility, and would hope you’d consider it.”

“Lance,” Abbi almost giggled at the thought of two marriage proposals in one night, “it’s so soon. I barely know you.”

“I’m aware of that,” he replied. “I’m not suggesting we marry tomorrow. I only ask that you keep me in mind. I simply wanted to verbalize the situation. Knowing what Ramona is up to, I didn’t want any uneasiness between us. She means well, but she can be a bit . . . zealous.”

“Yes,” Abbi laughed softly, “I know what you mean.” Still preoccupied with Nikolaus’s kiss, she added, “Let’s give it time.”

Lance seemed pleased with her answer, and Abbi had to admit that she appreciated his straightforward manner—though she already felt her heart being lost elsewhere, and she hoped it would not be long until she had the opportunity to see Nikolaus du Woernig again.

That night Abbi dreamed of the man on the mountain. It wasn’t clear and distinct like the dream that had led her to him, but rather filled with vague images of his face, his voice, his presence—and how they had affected her. She woke feeling just as she had following that first dream: so overcome with indescribable emotion that she could hardly move. She’d barely thought about him the last few weeks, when thoughts of him had seemed so fruitless. But now he had intruded upon her awakening feelings for Nikolaus du Woernig. And she resented it.

Through the following days, her thoughts were constantly invaded by this man on the mountain whom she knew nothing about. She searched for distraction in any way possible without success—until an invitation arrived from Lance, asking that she attend a social with him to be held at Castle Horstberg. Getting caught up in the preparations for her first social event, Abbi forced thoughts of the mysterious man out of her head. She reminded herself that he was nothing more than some ill-tempered recluse. And tomorrow evening she would be dancing with the Duke of Horstberg.

Chapter Three

THE CAPTAIN AND THE DUKE

A
bbi had a perfect view of Castle Horstberg from an upper window of Albrecht House. As long as she could remember, she had admired the imposing edifice, perched on a lofty hill at the far side of the valley. She had often stopped to admire the castle, but never had she imagined the magnificent structure rising before her now.

“Oh Lance,” she gasped, nearly leaning out the carriage window as it wound carefully up the hillside, “it’s magnificent. Nikolaus really lives here?”

“He really does,” Lance replied dryly.

“But you do too, of course,” she said, trying to remember herself and remain polite.

“Yes,” he said. “When we get into the courtyard you’ll see that the barracks for the Guard are to the right, behind the keep, which is where my offices are, but I live in an apartment in the complex to the left at the far end of the courtyard.”

“I can’t believe how long it’s taken us to get here,” she added. “It’s so massive. I suppose I always thought it was closer.”

“It is big,” Lance muttered.