Behind the Mask (105 page)

“It does indeed,” Elsa said with pride in her voice. “But I don’t do this for the money. I love working with you, Miss Abbi. I’d be lost if I couldn’t.”

“I would certainly prefer you over anyone else,” Abbi said. “You’re as much a friend to me as anything. I just want you to know . . . we can still be friends without having you do so much to help me. After all, you’re the wife of the duke’s highest advisor.”

“It’s my pleasure to help you,” she said. Then she laughed softly. “Besides, Georg has hired extra help at
my
house, so I can spend more time with you. I’d much rather be helping you than cleaning house.”

“I’m glad you see it that way.”

A servant came to the door, saying, “His Grace and Mr. Heinrich wish for the two of you to join them in the east parlor for coffee.”

“That would be fine,” Abbi said, “except that I have no idea where the east parlor is.”

The maid smiled. “If you’ll follow me.”

They arrived in the east parlor to find a wide variety of sweets and pastries laid out along with the coffee. Magda and Lena were laughing over something Cameron had told them. Georg rose to greet Elsa with a kiss, and Cameron did the same to Abbi, urging her to sit at his side. As they visited and laughed for better than an hour, Abbi felt completely relaxed. They talked of Lena’s upcoming wedding, and Abbi hated the idea of having her sister-in-law leave to live elsewhere. At least Magda would still be here. But it was only a matter of time before she married and moved away as well.

Abbi almost forgot she was the Duchess of Horstberg until Cameron said, “We should get some sleep. We must go into town tomorrow, my dear.”

“Tomorrow?” she protested. “Why tomorrow?”

“Because it’s market day,” Cameron said. “It’s important for the people to see us together and well, especially after all of the uprising and uncertainty that’s been going on.”

“But . . . I have nothing to wear. I haven’t had a chance to order anything new, and—”

“Oh, we can fix that,” Magda insisted. “I’m a bit taller than you, but I believe we are close to the same size. I’m certain we can find something.”

Abbi didn’t hesitate to admit, even in front of Cameron’s sisters, “I just don’t . . . know if I’m cut out for this.”

“Nonsense,” Lena said. “You’ll do beautifully.”

“Miss Abbi,” Elsa said, “you’ve always had a natural grace and dignity. No one is more of a lady than you are.”

Cameron smiled subtly toward Abbi, but she wanted to hit him. He then turned to Georg and said, “And you’re coming along. From now on, you will be at my side—always!”

“While you’re gone,” Elsa said, “perhaps I could assess Miss Abbi’s wardrobe and see what—”

Cameron interrupted, “Oh, no, Elsa my dear. You’re going with us. You are Georg’s wife and shall we say, a
lady-in-waiting
to the duchess. For tomorrow, at least, you’re coming as well.”

Elsa’s protests were an echo of Abbi’s, but Georg reminded her that she too had a great deal of natural grace and dignity.

“But . . . what will I wear?” Elsa protested.

Magda stood up and motioned toward Elsa and Abbi. “Come along. We’re going to solve this right now. And tomorrow while we’re in town, we’ll be ordering new clothes for both of you.”

“Excellent idea,” Lena said, following the other women out of the room.

After the door had closed, the room became eerily silent with the absence of women chattering. Cameron leaned back and said with light sarcasm, “What are you going to wear, Georg?”

“I don’t know, Cam. What are you going to wear?”

They both laughed and Cameron added, “Women. Whatever would we do without them?”

“I don’t want to know.”

“We did without them for a long time, although now it’s difficult to imagine.”

“Like I said . . .” Georg chuckled, “I don’t want to know.”

In her room, Magda pulled out some day dresses from her closet with high waistlines and full skirts. Abbi settled on a dress that Magda and Lena both agreed would do well for the occasion. Lena, who was taller and closer to Elsa’s size, gave Elsa a couple of dresses that were more suitable to her position.

“Oh, they’re lovely,” Elsa said. “Are you certain?”

“I’ve not worn them in a very long time,” Lena insisted. “I’ll not miss them.”

Abbi was grateful for Cameron’s sisters. While her husband had taught her a great deal, she felt certain their feminine influence and insight was something that Cameron could never grasp. Even Georg’s brain couldn’t compensate for that.

Elsa returned with Abbi to her dressing room. They entered from the hall, and Elsa helped brush out Abbi’s hair and see that she was dressed for bed before Elsa left for the night. Abbi came into the bedroom to find Cameron sitting low in a chair, his long legs stretched out, his booted ankles crossed. The dogs were sprawled on the rug near the bed and lifted their heads to silently greet her.

“Hello, Mrs. du Woernig,” Cameron said when he saw her. “How are you?”

In her mind the possible answers were clear.
Disoriented. Afraid. Overwhelmed.
“I’m fine,” she lied. “And you?”

“I think I’m starting to get used to this new life I’m living.”

“The same as your old life,” she said and took the hand he held out toward her.

“No,” he said, looking up at her, “it was never like this. Same job, same home; not the same life.” He kissed her hand. “It had never occurred to me that I could be so happy living this life. To have you here with me makes everything perfect.”

Abbi couldn’t deny the happiness she felt in seeing
him
so happy. The light in his eyes compensated for much, especially when that light was coupled with his overt love and adoration for her. How could such devotion from such a man not make her happy?

Abbi responded to the dogs’ craving for attention, and she commented to Cameron, “Perhaps we should change their names.”

Cameron chuckled. “I should be honored to be called after such a fine dog, as the captain should be.” Abbi looked at him dubiously. “But I never call them by their names, anyway.” He reached toward Abbi and said to the dogs, “My turn.”

He adjusted his position in the chair and eased her onto his lap, cradling her against him in a way that felt secure and warmly familiar. As he threaded his fingers between hers, she realized he was wearing a ring she’d never seen before. She drew his right hand close to her face, noting the gold band going around his ring finger. And on it was the elegantly crafted symbol of a red lion. She silently questioned Cameron, and he said, “The du Woernig men have worn the red lion for generations. I put the ring away when I went into exile. I figured it was time I got it out again.” While she was pondering the significance, he seemed to read her mind. “What might you think, Your Grace, of a woman with no knowledge of the politics or history of this nation, who saw in vision the symbol of the red lion—in context with my unborn son?”

“I had no idea,” she said softly.

“I know. That’s why it scared the hell out of me. But in the end, it was your vision that led me to believe there could be a future for us.” He pressed a loving hand over her rounded belly. “I love you, Abbi girl.”

“And I love you,” she said, pressing her mouth to his. Before their kiss ended, he had come to his feet, still holding her in his arms. He placed her in the center of the huge bed and stretched out beside her, kissing her on and on, as if no other task in the world were more important than the exploration of her mouth with his.

Long after their passion had subsided into a contentment that was comfortingly familiar, Abbi lay with his head on her shoulder, attempting to reconcile these surroundings into the relationship she shared with Cameron. It occurred to her with some measure of disbelief that the Duke of Horstberg had just made love to her. Then he lifted his head to look into her eyes, as if he might have sensed her need to see his face, and to let her know that he was the same man. It was Cameron.
Her
Cameron. And what they shared privately was the same as it had always been. She recalled his telling her that no one knew him the way that she did. She needed to remember that no matter what their lives entailed, the love between them mattered most. Horstberg could have the duke; Cameron du Woernig belonged to her alone.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

THE RELUCTANT DUCHESS

C
ameron woke early and took a moment to orient himself to his surroundings. He still had to regularly remind himself that this was his home, once-familiar and comfortable to him. He was a free man with nothing to prove or fear. He turned to see Abbi sleeping beside him. Her presence alone bridged all chasms from the life he’d been living to this one. But in his heart he knew those bridges were not complete. Impressions and memories haunted him, in spite of all his effort to put them behind. And every uneasy thought tied directly to Nikolaus. He still had trouble accepting that his own brother had been responsible for so much damage—in his own life, as well as with his country. But he was most haunted by what Nikolaus had done to Abbi. He kept reminding himself that it could have been so much worse. And he wanted to believe that even if the worst had happened, they would have found a way to overcome it and move on. But even with what
had
happened, he knew instinctively that Abbi’s spirit had been damaged. Given the changes thrust upon her life the same day that Nikolaus had invaded her safety and maliciously used her, it was difficult for Cameron to discern how much of the damage was a direct result of Nikolaus’s choices—or his own. He only knew that he was having trouble reconciling all that had happened and his feelings toward his brother.

Without disturbing Abbi, he got dressed and watched her sleeping for a long moment. She was beautiful and so precious to him. But even that moment was marred by thoughts of Nikolaus. How could he not think of his brother lying beside her on
this
bed, in
this
room, taking atrocious liberties with her? He forced the thoughts away and went to the office, knowing the captain would be there to go over some matters of business before breakfast.

A short while into their meeting, Cameron was startled from his thoughts when Captain Dukerk said with concern, “You seem . . . upset. Is something troubling you?”

“Much, to be truthful,” he admitted but said nothing more.

“You’ve been through a great deal,” Lance said. “The adjustment can’t be easy.” Cameron didn’t comment, and he added, “Anything you want to talk about with an old friend?”

Cameron sighed then chuckled, but with no hint of humor. “We certainly
are
old friends, but until you showed up threatening to arrest me, I don’t recall us ever having much to say to each other.”

“Perhaps Nikolaus got in the way.”

Cameron made a disagreeable noise as just hearing his brother’s name brought the brunt of his thoughts too close. “Nikolaus got in the way of many things, didn’t he? Whatever drew you to his friendship, I cannot imagine.”

Lance chuckled. “I suppose it began at a time when I was more mischievous, and he was less obnoxious.”

“Yes, there was a time like that, wasn’t there.”

“And then I suppose it became a habit. I’d always hoped I could keep him tempered, find something redeemable.”

“You can’t say you didn’t try,” Cameron said.

Lance let out a weighted sigh. “Yes, I tried. But for as long as I live, I will know that I’m the man who killed him.”

“And for as long as I live, I will be grateful that you did.”

Again Cameron’s mind wandered, until Lance said, “Forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, Your Grace, but you look deeply troubled. Truly, if you need to talk about it, then . . .” He hesitated before adding, “Of course, I know you have your wife to talk with, and—”

“We have talked about this as much as it’s possible without creating more grief. It’s been thoroughly discussed. We’ve cried and screamed and done our best to heal. But the reality still haunts me, and I . . .” His voice trailed into silence. “I can’t talk to her about it any further.” More silence made it evident that the captain was willing to listen, and Cameron knew that he could trust him with such tender and traumatic issues. He, more than anyone else, knew the betrayal and horror of what Nikolaus had done. Still, Cameron felt hesitant to voice his thoughts, as if keeping them inside might keep them from feeling quite so real. On the other hand, they kept circling in his mind with such intensity that he wondered if saying them aloud—to someone other than Abbi—might indeed help him find some peace. Considering the full gamut of the outcome, he considered Abbi the greatest victim of all.

“When I start tallying all that Nikolaus did to create grief, the list is very long.” Cameron turned in his chair and looked toward the window. “There is the list of issues associated with the people of Horstberg. And then there is the very personal list. He maliciously intended to have me framed for treason, but he killed my wife and framed me for murder instead. He had me beaten and left to rot in prison with no promise of a fair trial, while he gleefully took over my country, reveling in the power and wealth as if that’s all being a duke might ever entail. I can add up the malicious, cruel things he said to me through the course of our lives, and the way such words haunted me while I lived in solitary exile. All of it together pains me deeply. But every bit of it fades away and becomes meaningless when weighed against . . .” he heard a quiver in his own voice, “what he did to Abbi.”