Read Behind the Mask Online

Authors: Elizabeth D. Michaels

Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Historical, #Religion & Spirituality, #Fiction, #Medieval, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Christianity, #Christian Fiction, #Historical Romance, #Buchanan series, #the captain of her heart, #saga, #Anita Stansfield, #Horstberg series, #Romance, #Inspirational, #clean romance

Behind the Mask (83 page)

BOOK: Behind the Mask
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As the full implication began to penetrate her clouded brain, she took a sharp breath, then another. She knew she should say something, anything. But he didn’t seem disconcerted by the silence; he seemed to have expected it. He pulled his shoulders back, lifted his chin just slightly and spoke with a dignity that was not detracted by the way his voice cracked. “My name is . . . Cameron . . . Erich Ferdinand Gustave . . . du Woernig.” He drew a coarse breath. “I am . . .” He swallowed hard. “I am . . . the rightful . . . heir. I am . . . the . . . Duke of Horstberg.”

He squeezed his eyes closed and pressed a hand over the center of his chest, reminding her of the moment when he’d
almost
spoken the name and had immediately become upset. Her voice finally presented itself enough to mutter, “You said it. You said your name.”

He opened his eyes and swallowed carefully. “Yes, I said it.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes.”

As if her speaking had set him loose, he stepped closer and took both her hands into his, bringing her to the awareness that she was trembling. Or was it him? Both perhaps. She looked into his eyes, once again taking in the reality. She swallowed hard and admitted, “I can’t believe it. I never would have dreamed . . .”

“Oh, Abbi,” his voice quavered and the trembling of his hands increased, “do you know how many times I wished that you would dream the truth . . . so that I would never have to tell you?”

Cameron wasn’t surprised by how disoriented and concerned she was, but he still hated it. Lifting her hands, he pressed them to the sides of his face, closing his eyes to relish her touch. “It’s still me, Abbi,” he said, hoping to alleviate this horrid anxiety. “I’m still the same man I was the last time you saw me. I’m still the man who loves you more than I had ever believed it possible to love.”

Abbi could find no words to respond. Instead she pressed her lips to his, as if that alone might prove what he’d just said was true. He moaned softly, as if her kiss had unleashed some level of emotion he’d been struggling to hold back. She kissed him more fully and eased closer, unable to hold back a sudden rush of tears. With her eyes closed and their mouths fused together this way, she could believe he
was
the same man. He wrapped her in his arms and moaned again while their kiss deepened further. And one reality settled into her, above all else. He was alive and safe. And he was hers.

Their kiss only ended when she realized he was crying, too. She looked into his eyes and wiped the tears from his face. “Are these happy tears, my love?”

A short laugh came through his lips. “Happy, relieved, overwhelmed . . . scared out of my mind.”

“Scared? Why?”

He sobbed then swallowed hard. “I was so afraid . . . you would be upset . . . angry.”

Abbi pressed her hand to his face. “I’ll admit to being scared, as well. I have no idea how . . . to feel . . . what to think. But angry? Upset? No, never. Grateful . . . that it’s over. No more secrets.” Another of those brief laughs erupted from him before he kissed her again. “I love you, Cameron du Woernig,” she said, and his laughter melted into such an onslaught of tears that he fell to his knees, pressing his hands to her back, and his face against the child growing inside her. He wept unlike she had ever witnessed, but she could well imagine the years of heartache and grief that had culminated in this moment. And Abbi wept with him. There were a hundred questions she wanted to ask him as the reality began to descend, but there would be plenty of time for that. In this moment they were together, and it was over.

A knock at the door startled them both, but Cameron remained as he was. A loud voice called, “Ten minutes, Your Grace.”

He cleared his throat and called back, “Thank you, Lieutenant.” Then she felt him consciously willing back his emotion and struggling for composure.

He looked up at Abbi and again she wiped away his tears, unable to keep from repeating, “Your Grace,” if only to further acquaint herself to the reality. He showed a subtle smile and took both her hands into his, pressing them to his lips with fervor, reverence, and overt adoration before he came to his feet without letting go. “Ten minutes until what?” she asked, feeling a little panicked to think of leaving the room, knowing what she knew now.

“There is much to be done,” he said, and offered no further explanation. “Do I look like I’ve been crying like a baby?” he asked with a self-conscious chuckle.

“No,” she smiled and touched his face, “you look like a man in love.”

He returned her smile and kissed her, but she sensed some kind of hesitancy in him. To fill in the silence, she asked, “So, it’s over?” Her voice quavered. “You’re free?”

While she was seeking validation and comfort, the apprehension in his eyes left her alarmed.

“Not yet,” he said. “We must still be very careful.”

“Why?” she demanded more harshly than she’d intended. She felt compelled to point out, as if he didn’t know, “The officers of the Guard are doing your bidding.”

“Yes, they are, and while the vast majority of them have pledged their support, I have no way of knowing how many of them may quietly remain loyal to Nikolaus.”

“Nikolaus is your . . .” She couldn’t finish.

“My brother,” he said and her inner trembling heightened.

“Where
is
Nikolaus?”

“We don’t know,” he said while she distinctly recalled hearing Cameron’s
brother
say to Lance,
I
can
lock up or execute anyone I don’t agree with.

“And there could be officers who remain loyal to him?” she clarified, wishing it hadn’t sounded so alarmed.

“Abbi,” he said gently, “my biggest concern is not the division of loyalty.”

“What
is
your biggest concern?” she asked, and knew she would hate the answer by the way his face tightened. “No more secrets.”

Cameron looked at her sharply. He knew she was right, but he wished this aspect of the situation could have been avoided completely until he had something more positive to tell her. Her trust and patience had been immeasurable. She deserved to know the truth. “My biggest concern,” he said, “is the same that it has been from the start. My innocence will immediately remove Nikolaus from his position, and he dearly prizes his position.”

Abbi sucked unbridled terror into her lungs. She was surprised at how grateful she felt that she’d not known that single fact until now. She never would have been able to cope all these months knowing the truth. Cameron’s
knowledge
was not a threat to Nikolaus; his
existence
was a threat.

Cameron went on to say, “As of this moment we don’t know where Nikolaus is, or if he even knows I’m alive, and he has an officer with him. It’s been reported that he’s flippantly dismissed the rumors. His arrogance may be the very thing that saves us.”

“Arrogance must run in the family,” she said, praying that Cameron’s arrogance wouldn’t get him killed, as Georg had said it might.

“No doubt,” Cameron said, visibly tense.

Knowing their time was brief, Abbi tried to find some reasoning over the situation. “But Nikolaus could not do anything to boldly incriminate himself. What can he hold over you beyond the accusations of murder? If your innocence has been proven, then—”

“But it hasn’t. That will happen later, Abbi. It’s all very complicated, and there isn’t time to explain right now. Before I sleep tonight it will all be resolved.”

“And in the meantime?” she countered in a voice that clearly expressed her panic. He said nothing. “If your innocence has not been proven, then what exactly has been accomplished that has taken all these many months to bring to pass?”

Cameron remained calm. It was a valid question and she had a right to know. And given all she’d been through, she had a right to be angry, as well. “Abbi,” he took her shoulders and spoke firmly, “if this had
only
been about proving my innocence . . .” He sighed and began another way. “I have now taken control of the fortress and military force of this country. The committee of national security and the advisory council have agreed to allow me twenty-four hours to prove my worthiness to keep what I am entitled to. My trial has been set for tomorrow morning, but it’s up to me to provide evidence for my defense. If I can’t do that, I’ve agreed to allow myself to be arrested.” Her breathing became ragged even before he added, “And Nikolaus will once again be in control. I have officially charged
him
with treason, but it could be difficult to prove when he starts throwing his tyrannical attitudes around. But it will be all right, because I
can
prove my innocence. And a trial is what I had no hope of getting when I was first imprisoned. All else is irrelevant if I am not guilty, Abbi. I am the rightful heir, and no one can dispute that. Without hours of explanation on political matters and the intricate dynamics of a hundred different issues involved, it’s impossible to comprehend what it has taken to get to this point. Your love, your trust, your patience have far surpassed what I could ever hope to deserve. I only ask that you trust me and remain patient just a little longer, and—”

A knock at the door interrupted him, and Abbi wanted to curse. “Come,” he called with comfortable authority.

The lieutenant entered the room, stood at attention and stated firmly, “Forgive me, Your Grace, but you asked to see Mr. Lumburg as soon as he arrived.”

“Yes, thank you,” Cameron said. “Show him in.”

The lieutenant merely turned and motioned a man wearing a fine suit into the room, while Cameron said quietly to Abbi, “This won’t take long.”

The lieutenant left the room and closed the door. Mr. Lumburg stood staring at Cameron, looking aghast.

“Sir,” he said and bowed slightly. “It really is you. I couldn’t believe it when they told me. I apologize for missing the meeting. I was—”

“It’s fine,” Cameron interrupted firmly, and with those two words Abbi saw her husband become the Duke of Horstberg. She realized she was still shaking as she observed this man she loved step into the role of a position she’d never considered or comprehended.

“I understand you are presently serving as the head of the advisory council,” Cameron went on.

“Yes, sir.” The man’s awe and respect were startlingly evident.

“I’m certain you’ve already been informed of what I expect to take place today, but I wanted you to hear it with your own ears so there will be no question as to the urgency of the matter.”

“I have been informed, sir,” he said, sounding flustered, perhaps nervous. “With all due respect, do you truly mean for us to take care of it
today?”

Abbi expected to hear some request related to preparations for the trial, for some efforts to be made in securing the witness or waylaying Nikolaus. Instead he dictated firmly, “My orders are clear, Mr. Lumburg. I want
excessive
amounts of food and supplies distributed to the homeless—
today!
” He spoke in a harsh, commanding voice that Abbi recognized—but she’d not heard it in many months. Looking back to the way he’d initially treated her, she should have known he was a sovereign. He was clearly accustomed to giving orders and expecting them to be heeded. The reality sunk in a little deeper, and her inner trembling increased. “And I want the prisons cleaned out, and every prisoner given fresh amenities. I also want records on my desk of each prisoner’s alleged crimes and their current status of justice. While the committee is reviewing these records, they can also review every case of confiscated property in the past four years. If it wasn’t done legally, I want it
undone.”

“But . . . sir,” Mr. Lumburg protested timidly. “Just embarking on such projects could take days and—”

“I don’t have
days,
Mr. Lumburg. I have twenty-four hours.”

Abbi wanted to scream at the implication. Did Cameron truly believe he only had one day to have any impact before he lost all that he’d fought so hard to gain? She felt only slightly better as he went on to say, “No matter how long such projects may take, I am absolutely certain that by morning you can convince me significant progress has been made to ease the suffering in this country.” Cameron lifted a finger and took a step toward this man. He was nearly as tall as Cameron, but clearly intimidated. “Now let me make one point perfectly clear,” he added. “No matter
who
is in charge of this country tomorrow, I want you to promise me that the committee will do everything possible to see that these changes take place. Am I understood?”

“Clearly understood, sir,” Mr. Lumburg said. Abbi expected some indication that this man might feel indignant or upset, even if he would never dare say so, but a subtle smile crept into his countenance before he added, “It’s good to have you back, Your Grace.”

Cameron immediately receded into his kind and humble self. “Thank you. God willing, we will be able to discuss these matters further tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’m certain many people will be praying for that very thing.”

“Then surely all will be well,” Cameron said. “Thank you for your time.”

Mr. Lumburg bowed slightly once again, and his eyes shifted to Abbi as if he’d just now noticed there was someone else in the room. He looked surprised and intrigued, but she felt terribly conspicuous, dressed as she was with her hair gone wild.

“My wife,” Cameron said to answer the silent question in this man’s eyes.

“Mrs. du Woernig,” he said, bowing more deeply. “A pleasure.”

Abbi simply nodded in reply. She was so knotted up inside she couldn’t begin to think of an appropriate response.

“Your Grace,” Mr. Lumburg said to Cameron and hurried from the room.

Abbi longed for more conversation with her husband. Her head was spinning with questions while her insides swarmed with unsettled emotion. But the door didn’t close behind Mr. Lumburg before the lieutenant appeared, saying, “Forgive me, sir. But there are matters that require your attention before we set out, and time is short.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Lieutenant.” He looked into Abbi’s eyes, adding quietly, “You mustn’t worry. Everything will be all right. They’ll escort you safely back to the house, and I will see you at the cathedral.” He took both her hands into his and kissed them before he hurried from the room, the ducal robe flowing behind him. Abbi became so distracted by the image, and all it represented, that she was startled to realize the lieutenant was still in the room.

BOOK: Behind the Mask
6.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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