Behind the Mask (90 page)

Abbi took in her husband’s implacable expression and wondered how to explain why she suddenly felt like giggling. She bit her lip and looked down to hide her smile. But a spurt of laughter forced its way out.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” she said and laughed again. “It’s just . . . looking back now . . . it seems . . . funny. Or maybe it’s not, but . . .” She laughed again.

Cameron said with no humor. “Abbi, I think this day has driven you mad with hysteria. Just tell me.”

“That’s likely true,” she said and forced sobriety. “Nikolaus and I were alone. He bent over to pick something up, and the crown fell on the floor.”

Cameron actually winced at the image. The crown was
never
supposed to touch the floor; it would be considered defiled.

“I picked it up,” Abbi said. “And I told him he mustn’t lose it.”

Cameron’s eyes widened, and a chill rushed over his shoulders.

“And I think I told him he should have the size adjusted so that it would fit better.”

Cameron thought about that for a second and then laughed. “That
is
funny. A bit . . . eerie, but funny. If he’d only known you would be the means to dethrone him.”

“Not me,” she said firmly.

“Oh, yes,” he said. “Without you I would either be dead or rotting in self pity.”

Abbi couldn’t respond. All humor fled with the enormity of the present, and everything that had led up to it. Cameron placed the crown carefully in the velvet lined box lying open on the bureau, next to hers.

“Would you mind?” he asked, indicating she help him with the robe that was attached to his shoulders. “My valet is busy elsewhere. I assured him that I could manage.”

“Of course.” She stood and reached up to help him remove it. Holding the huge piece of rich, red fabric in her hands, she was startled by its heaviness. She considered its texture, unlike any fabric she’d ever felt before. And she was struck by its symbolism. A stark reality descended as her mind went back to the moment earlier today when she had learned the truth.
Cameron was the Duke of Horstberg
. The hours since had been filled with a month’s worth of events and emotions, hardly giving her a chance to fully digest what this meant. She felt stunned and found it difficult to breathe. Watching him now was like standing in the center of one of her dreams, feeling lost and uncertain of what it meant.

Cameron sat down to remove his boots but couldn’t find the motivation to do it. He considered the silence between them, and felt distinctly uneasy. He studied her expression. She seemed dazed and lost, standing there holding his robe as if it were spun from gold.

“Abbi,” he said and startled her. Her eyes focused on him with the same kind of awe before she glanced away as if he frightened her. He tried not to feel angry as he said, “You’re behaving differently, Abbi.”

She laughed with no humor. “Everything is different.”

“No,” he insisted, “not
everything.”

Abbi didn’t want to speak her deepest feelings, but knew she had to. “I . . . I don’t even know you,” she said, concentrating on the robe in her hands to avoid looking at him. “It’s like . . . you’ve been hiding behind some extraordinary mask, and now that it’s gone, I . . . I don’t even know who you are.”

“I’m Cameron,” he said, erupting to his feet. He grabbed the robe out of her hands
. “This
is the mask, Abbi.” He tossed the robe with loathing. “All my life I’ve had to hide behind it, never fully understanding who I really was, never believing I was entitled to any personal happiness. When that mask was torn away, I became
nothing
. But you changed that, Abbi. You showed me who I
really
am.”

“But . . .” she looked into his eyes, still unable to believe it, “you are the Duke of Horstberg.”

“Not to you!” His voice wasn’t loud, but Abbi still winced. “I’m a man, Abbi; only a man.” He took her hands and pressed them to his face. “I’m the same man you loved yesterday. My blood is still the same color. My heart still beats. I
have
to be the Duke of Horstberg in front of the country. It’s who I am. It’s in my blood. But I will
not
wear that mask with you. I will
not!”
His voice softened as he added, “There are only two people in this world who know the
real
me, Abbi. You and Georg. And I’m not married to him! My sisters love and accept me, but they were raised to see me as a monarch first. I thank God every day that He allowed you to love the man first, Abbi, so I will
never
have to wonder if the mask I wear has anything to do with your reasons for loving
me.”

Abbi looked up into his eyes. There was so much she wanted to say, but her voice was stuck behind the knot in her throat. When she started to cry, she wanted to press her face to his chest as she’d done a thousand times. Except now the front of his uniform was covered with symbols of his power, preventing her from being as close to him as she wanted to be.

“Forgive me, Abbi,” he said. “I know this is most difficult for you.”

“No,” she said, “you’re safe, and we’re together, and . . .” He wiped at her tears. “I’m certain I will adjust to all of this with time.”

In an effort to aid that adjustment, she pressed her hands over the ornamental regalia on his chest. “What do they mean?” she asked, noting there were dozens of them, pinned close together, a grand variety of color and design. She wondered if the valet was responsible for putting them all meticulously in place.

Cameron felt disoriented by the question, or perhaps it was more trying to place the answer into his relationship with Abbi. “Um . . . nothing terribly important.”

“They certainly
look
important,” she said. “They must mean something. Nikolaus and Lance wear them, but not nearly so many.”

The comparison struck a nerve for Cameron, at least in relation to Nikolaus. “Each one represents some level of military or political training or accomplishment. Some were presented as awards. Most were earned. What Nikolaus wears is for show.” She looked puzzled and he was pleased to be able to express such feelings aloud after holding them inside for so long. “I earned this country, Abbi. Nikolaus stole it. For as long as I can remember, I was trained and prepared for this. Of course I was allowed a social life and free time, but Nikolaus had little
but
free time.
Nothing
was expected of him. I worked night and day to keep this country secure and prosperous. He took it from me without blinking, and then he let it rot. I can only imagine his diabolical laughter when he was told I’d been arrested. It probably took him about ten minutes to put on the crown and pull up a chair in the ducal office. It’s like taking a vagrant off the streets and asking him to grow a crop when he’s never touched a plow.”

Abbi felt the pain in his words, and her own struggles with this adjustment took on perspective. She touched his face, intrigued with the absence of his beard. “And now you have earned your country again.”

“With any luck, I’ll get to keep it,” he said intensely.

Abbi considered what little she knew, wondering how they might ever feel safe from his brother. She hesitated to open the subject but felt she had to say, “You told me that you had charged Nikolaus with treason. If he’s arrested and found guilty, then what? Is it your intention to see him go before a firing squad?”

“No!” he said firmly. “My only wish is to bring attention to his misdeeds enough to see that he never has control again in this country. I will grant him clemency if needs be, or he may be required to leave the country. It is not vengeance I seek, Abbi, but justice. His crimes cannot be tolerated, but I do not wish to see him harmed. He is my brother.”

Once again silence fell and tension gathered. Hating the formality between them, Abbi took it upon herself to unfasten the hooks down the front of his coat. When it was hanging open she pressed her hands over the white shirt covering his chest. “So, you are hiding under here,” she said lightly, but he didn’t comment.

Chapter Twenty-Five

THE VALUE OF A DUCHESS

A
bbi wondered if Cameron felt as disoriented as she did, coming back into this world after being gone for four years. She wanted to find some common ground in their feelings, but couldn’t think of anything to say. He slipped off the coat of his uniform and turned to put it over the back of a chair.

“Good heavens!” she gasped, seeing a deep red stain on the side of his shirt. “What happened?” she demanded, and he looked down to see the source of her concern.

“It’s nothing,” he said nonchalantly. “What happened earlier . . . it broke the wound open; that’s all.”

“That’s
all?”
she echoed and pushed his braces over his shoulders. She saw his eyes become timid, almost frightened, while she unbuttoned his shirt. She wondered why until she pushed the shirt away and gasped again. His chest and torso were covered with bruises. The wound she had bandaged the previous evening had been haphazardly wrapped again with thick pads of gauze that were completely soaked with blood. “This is why you were late,” she said. He nodded but wouldn’t look at her. He looked a little pale. She took hold of his arms to guide him to a chair. “Cameron, you’re trembling!”

Cameron felt heady as Abbi’s words brought back the most horrific event of the day. Her attention to the evidence spurred some kind of delayed reaction to the fear he hadn’t had the luxury to feel at the time. He slumped onto the chair and lowered his head into his hands, groaning, almost afraid he might lose consciousness as it became difficult to draw breath.

“Cameron, what is it?” she asked, kneeling beside him, pressing her hands to his shoulders. “Are you in pain?”

“Yes. No. I mean . . . no more than I have been since it . . . happened. I’m fine.”

“That’s what you said to Georg. Obviously you’re not fine. You’re shaking. You’re pale. What’s wrong?”

He lowered his head further and groaned again. “No, I’m not fine,” he admitted and clutched onto her. “Oh, Abbi. I thought it was over. I didn’t feel that scared when I was arrested four years ago.” He struggled to breathe. “They were taking me to the keep. Just the thought of going back in there made me so sick I thought I was going to throw up, right there in the hall. I wanted to get my hands on one of their weapons; not to defend myself, but to keep from having to go back there.”

She knelt directly in front of him and wrapped him in her arms. He held her tightly and pressed the side of his face to her chest. He could hear her heart beating, feel her breathing. “I thought I would never see you again,” he muttered. “I imagined you being married to him, sharing with him everything that is most precious to me. I was praying that you would forgive me for letting you down when we had come so far, when you had given so much to me.” He fought to catch his breath enough to go on. “When Joerger showed up with six men, I almost passed out from relief. Then the fight started, and I thought they were going to kill me. I heard somebody shout that they wanted me alive, but they seemed intent on punishing me for
something.
More officers showed up, and it was all under control in about thirty seconds. But it scared the hell out of me, Abbi.” He groaned again and tightened his embrace. “Oh, I’m alive, Mrs. du Woernig. I’m alive. And we’re together. I want to live, Abbi. I
need
to live. I need to see your face every day, and hold you close, and we need to raise a family and grow old together.”

Abbi wept as he spoke, holding his head tightly against her, silently thanking God for protecting him and seeing him safely into her arms. “We will,” she whispered. “Everything’s all right now.”

“Yes, it is,” he said, and his trembling ceased. A few minutes later he drew back and said, “Forgive me, Abbi.”

“For what?”

“For everything I’ve put you through.” He pressed his hands down her arms and back again. “You are my life. I would not be here without you. I only regret that it’s been so difficult for you.”

“I love you, Cameron. Nothing else matters.” He made an emotional noise and she kissed him, but her attention was drawn to the blood-soaked gauze that needed to be changed. “We must take care of this,” she said, and rang for a servant.

Bruna, one of the maids Abbi had barely met earlier, came through the door in less than a minute. While Abbi told her what she needed, an officer who had come in with her spoke quietly with Cameron. He’d apparently been waiting for an opportunity when he wouldn’t disturb them. Even though he didn’t even glance her direction, she was grateful to be more sufficiently covered than she might have been to call a female servant into the room. Once Bruna left, Abbi noticed the officer had a significant black eye, and she wondered if he’d been one of those who had helped save Cameron’s life today. The two of them were still talking when Franz came to the room with the salve, disinfectant, and bandaging that Abbi had requested. The officer left just before Franz said, “Good heavens, sir. Are you all right?”

Cameron glanced down as if he’d just remembered he was bare from the waist up, minus the bandaging. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he insisted. Abbi pulled her wrapper more tightly around her. She would need to adjust to having her husband’s male servants coming in and out of her bedroom.