Behind the Mask (85 page)

Abbi didn’t see Georg before she left in the hired wedding coach with Elsa. When they arrived at the cathedral to the chiming of bells from the tower, a footman helped the ladies down. Abbi and Elsa were escorted to a waiting room with mirrors and plenty of space to sit and be comfortable. But Abbi only paced the floor until Georg showed up at ten minutes before noon. He appeared relaxed and pleased, but when their eyes met she undoubtedly saw his trepidation. He knew that she had seen Cameron, and that she’d been made aware of the truth. Hot tears bubbled out of her before he could even speak. He put his arms around her and urged her face to his shoulder, but the evidence of his compassion only made her cry harder. When she finally calmed down, there were a hundred things she wanted to say, but no words would form. While he was wiping at her tears, she noticed Elsa’s alarm.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently.

“Everything’s fine,” Georg said. “She’s just had . . . an eventful morning.”

“Don’t
tell me everything is fine!” Abbi shouted in a whisper and pushed Georg away. Elsa looked frightened. And why wouldn’t she be? She’d probably never heard Abbi talk that way. But how could she ever explain how absolutely disoriented her life had become in the space of a heartbeat? How could she express the horrible uneasiness prickling her every nerve? Her deepest fear sputtered out of her mouth. “How do you know one of his brother’s thugs hasn’t tossed him into prison in the last couple of hours?”

“Because he will not step out of the castle without being carefully protected by men he can trust until we know exactly where he stands.”

Abbi took a deep breath, liking that answer. Still, anything could go wrong, and she felt—as Cameron had put it—scared out of her mind.

“What’s wrong?” Elsa repeated timidly. “What’s happened?”

While Abbi paced and wrung her hands, Georg faced his wife and took hold of her shoulders. “Elsa,” he said, “when you met Cameron, did he look familiar to you?”

“No, should he?”

“Had you ever heard the name Cameron before?”

“It sounded vaguely familiar, but . . . I don’t know. Why?”

“At least I’m not the only naive fool in this country,” Abbi growled, leaving Elsa more confused.

“Neither of you is a naive fool,” Georg countered. “Having no knowledge of political matters in this country is
not
criminal. But apparently gossip concerning the royal family doesn’t commonly reach the Albrecht household.”

“Apparently not,” Abbi snapped with sarcasm.

“The royal family?” Elsa asked.

“Oh help,” Abbi muttered, wrapping an arm around her stomach. She felt sick.
She
was a member of the royal family.

Georg glanced at her while she continued to pace, and then he focused again on Elsa. “You know that both you and Abbi have been kept ignorant of certain . . . elements of Cameron’s situation . . . for your protection.”

“Yes.”

“That secrecy is no longer relevant. Cameron will be here any minute, and by the time he arrives most of the country will know. Elsa, he is a du Woernig. He is the . . .” The bells in the cathedral tower changed their toll to announce the hour. “I’ll explain more later,” he finished, but Elsa’s stunned expression gave Abbi some validation. At least she wasn’t the only naive fool who was in
shock!

“Shouldn’t he be here?” Abbi demanded while the bells continued to count the time.

“He will be,” Georg said with a smile. “He may not always be punctual, but he’ll be here.”

Abbi glared at him. The bells stopped, but in their absence she could hear music playing to announce that the wedding march would soon begin. Had her worst fears come to pass?

“You look beautiful, Abbi,” Georg said and smiled again. “You mustn’t worry. He’ll be here.” Abbi wanted to believe him, but she hardly knew
what
to believe. As the music changed to the wedding march, he added softly, “It’s time.”

Elsa pushed her way between them. She eased Abbi’s hair behind her shoulders and adjusted the comb that held the veil in place. “You
do
look beautiful,” she said, and Abbi saw tears in her eyes. “You are a du Woernig,” she said. “It’s like a fairy tale, Miss Abbi.”

Abbi wanted to scream. Fairy tales were supposed to have happy endings. This felt like a nightmare. Elsa smiled and pulled the top layer of netting forward until Georg took hold of it. He bent and kissed Abbi lightly on the lips before letting the veil fall over her face. “I love you,” he said, looking into her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, Georg.” She forced a smile. “I know what you mean, and I love
you
. I always will.”

Georg carefully placed her hand on his arm, pressing his fingers over hers. “We’re off,” he said gallantly, and they moved through a door into the main section of the cathedral. She heard him take a deep breath before they started up the aisle, and she forced herself to do the same, praying inwardly that Cameron would remain safe, and that he would get here before her nerves became any more raw.

Forcing her thoughts from Cameron’s absence, Abbi noticed how the sun came brilliantly through high east windows, literally filling the atmosphere with beaming streaks of light, dispersed into color by masses of stained glass. Music soared to the lofty ceilings and domed roof, rebounding off the massive pillars and archways. Abbi’s wedding was exactly how she had envisioned, down to every fine detail—except that the man standing at the other end of the cathedral, barely visible from this distance, was not Cameron.

In time to the music, Abbi stepped resolutely up the polished stone aisle, as though she were facing inevitable doom. She considered her veiled face a blessing, not wanting the vast amount of people present to see the fear in her expression. Her only comfort was in Georg’s nearness, and she tightened her hand over his arm, holding to him with desperation.
But where was Cameron?
What could have happened since she’d seen him? Was he dead? In prison? What would her future be like without him, if the worst had happened now?

Traversing the length of the aisle, her eyes met Georg’s several times. Though his expression was reassuring, she had to wonder if he was only trying to pacify her. He couldn’t be certain any more than she was that something hadn’t happened to Cameron in the last couple of hours. The unknown whereabouts of Nikolaus troubled her even more than the possible divided loyalties of men who could very well be intent on doing Cameron harm.

The length of the cathedral passed behind them far too quickly, and Abbi found herself standing next to Lance, while he waited for Georg to give him her hand. She looked up at her lifelong friend with pleading desperation. She saw him glance back down the aisle toward the huge doors at the rear. Abbi’s eyes followed. But everything was quiet and still. With hesitance Georg pulled Abbi’s fingers from his arm, kissed her hand, and placed it into Lance’s. “He’ll be here,” Georg whispered and stepped aside. Lance and Georg exchanged a look that seemed to hold some kind of understanding, but she couldn’t imagine what.

Abbi looked up at Lance, fighting back tears as he said softly, “I really didn’t believe we’d get to this point.” Abbi wanted to agree with him, but her voice was frozen. He too glanced back as if he expected an interruption, and then he guided her toward the altar.

Abbi’s eyes met with the bishop’s, but he seemed concerned. He was one of few people who knew she was already married, but did he know the full reality of what was happening here? As she knelt with Lance at the altar where she had once knelt with Cameron, Abbi prayed with all her being that time would be stalled, that he would come. When the bishop began to speak, Abbi felt sick. Her whole world was falling apart around her, and she had no power to change it.

“Abbi, you’re trembling,” Lance whispered, at the same time squeezing her hand as if that might have a soothing effect.

She tried to think of the most succinct explanation. “He promised me he would be here if he was still alive.” She turned to look at him, grateful for the bishop’s ongoing speech. “Please, Lance. Please tell me that you didn’t do anything to—”

“Don’t ask me to restate my loyalties now, Abbi. Not here.” He sounded mildly angry. “You should know me well enough to know where I stand.”

Abbi’s panic deepened. What was that supposed to mean? She believed he would do anything to protect her. But there were many things he’d said that had left her unclear on exactly where his loyalties were otherwise.

“Or maybe you don’t really know me at all,” he added with a subtle edge that made her wonder if she did. He looked at her hard and added, “But better perhaps than your own husband?”

Abbi found it difficult to even take a breath as his words struck her far too deeply. He was right. There was a great deal she didn’t know about either of these men. They both loved her. They both had political loyalties that were far beyond her comprehension. And she was caught in the middle of something she didn’t understand and feared with all her soul. In that moment she cursed the dreams that had guided her into this life, this moment, this horror. But she was here and there was no turning back. She felt angry and betrayed in the worst possible way, even though she wasn’t certain who to be angry with. At least anger might keep her from crumbling in public. She discreetly glanced at Georg, hoping for some reassurance. But he was visibly agitated. If
he
didn’t know where Cameron was, then who did?

“I really thought he would be here,” Lance whispered, “but maybe I was wrong.” Abbi heard the words, but allowed her anger to force them to a place where she couldn’t feel their meaning. Her trembling increased as he added, “As much as I would love to be your husband, Abbi, I’m not sure I’m the right man to raise the heir to Horstberg.”

Abbi looked at him sharply. Her pounding heart raced and threatened to stop. How did he know that she’d been told Cameron’s identity? And what else did he know? In spite of the secrets that had been revealed to her, she felt certain she was still being left horribly ignorant. Her instincts told her that Lance knew far more than he was letting on, and he was very much involved in the outcome. But was his involvement in Cameron’s favor, or against it?

Abbi’s mind was drawn to memories of things Cameron had said that suddenly became haunting.
I’m not afraid to die. I’m afraid to live . . . He’ll take care of you. He’ll raise the child well.
The meticulous precision of Cameron’s plans became startlingly clear. “Or maybe you are,” she finally said in response, struggling to breathe. Who better than the Captain of the Guard? How very coincidental! How convenient! Was this how God had meant it to be all along? Anger and fear continued to battle inside her. Then she remembered. She had dreamed this moment! She’d wanted to believe the dream had been spurred by her fears, that it had no meaning. She’d been convinced that everything would turn out the way she wanted it to, and she’d denied herself the opportunity to be prepared for this moment. On the verge of completely crumbling, she determined that she had no choice but to say her vows and resign herself to the worst. She could fall apart later.

Unable to speak, Abbi’s attention was drawn more to the bishop’s ongoing speech. He was rambling on with boring slowness about the power of love and commitment in overcoming the evils of the world.
He was stalling,
she thought and felt the tiniest grain of hope. Or was his attempt to stall just prolonging the inevitable? She jumped at the sound of the heavy doors opening in the distance, at the rear of the cathedral. Tears burned behind her closed eyes while she prayed with all the fervency of her soul that there was not some other reason for this untimely intrusion. The cathedral became very still until she heard a voice of authority call loudly, “Announcing His Grace, the Duke of Horstberg.”

Abbi nearly fainted from weakness.
That
didn’t tell her anything. For all she knew Nikolaus had decided to attend the wedding at the last minute. Lance squeezed her hand and whispered, “I told you he’d be here.” Was that disappointment she heard in his voice? Or relief?

“Or Nikolaus has stabbed him in the back and come in his place.”

“For all of Nikolaus’s depravity, he would do no such thing.”

“No, of course not,” Abbi whispered with a bite of sarcasm. “He’d just toss him into prison and have him executed at dawn—no questions asked. Isn’t that what you told me?” Lance didn’t comment. She knew he had no rebuttal.

Abbi was surprised to hear the echo of a horse’s hooves on the stone floor—and something else. Footsteps, many of them, marching in unison. A low murmur rustled through the crowd.

“What’s happening, Lance?” she whispered, squeezing his hand so tightly she felt certain she was causing him pain. He didn’t answer. She took a labored breath, then another. “Is it him?” she asked. “I can’t look.”

“Of course it’s him,” Lance said. “Nikolaus would not have come here with full military escort.”

Abbi tried to find relief, but she felt hesitant to believe him. It wasn’t so difficult to imagine Nikolaus returning to take Cameron’s place, if only to make it publicly clear that he was still in charge. Terrified to even turn around, she feared that every grain of hope and logic would be dashed if she saw anyone other than her husband. While she was gathering the courage to see for herself and get it over with, she wanted to drill Lance with questions. Was this what he’d expected? Had he known the outcome all along?

Lance stood and took hold of her arm, urging her to do the same. He turned her toward him and lifted the veil from her face. He looked into her eyes for a long moment, and she couldn’t hold back tears on his behalf. He turned to take in the crowds filling the cathedral, then she saw him focus on the military escort that she could hear moving slowly closer. The barest hint of a smile touched his lips as he turned to look at her.

“Is it him?” she asked, breathing so sharply she feared losing consciousness.

“It is,” he said and she exhaled all the weight of her fears, pressing her face to his shoulder while she fought back the urge to cry like a baby. Lance took hold of her chin and lifted her face to his view. “Everyone in the room is watching him,” he said, “but
he
is watching
us.”
His smiled deepened. “He’ll probably give me a bloody lip for this later,” he added and bent to kiss her. He drew back and wiped at her tears. “I will always remember,” he said, “that for a moment you were almost mine.”