Behind the Mask (109 page)

“Your Grace,” he whispered, taking her hand. He pressed her fingers to his lips with a kiss that showed honor and deference, the kind of kiss that a visiting dignitary might give her. Then he pressed his mouth over hers with a lover’s kiss, if only to reassure himself that she was the same woman who had dreamed her way into his life, to give him
back
his life. Her response fed him with an unadulterated thrill. He drew back and murmured, “You are so beautiful, Abbi, but that’s not why I love you.”

She smiled timidly. “As long as you love me, nothing else matters.”

“Hear, hear,” he said, and kissed her again.

Chapter Thirty

CASTLE WALLS

R
emembering his purpose in bringing Abbi here, Cameron said, “I have two surprises for you.”

“I’ve heard that you’re full of surprises,” she said, and he chuckled.

“So I am, but then,” his eyes roved down the length of her, “you are too. Who’d have dreamed that a duchess was hiding behind the wild child who walked through my door, uninvited?”

“Who would have dreamed that a duke was chopping wood outside my window?”

He smiled and lifted his arm. She set her hand over his in the proper manner, and they walked slowly across the room, watching each other more than where they were going. “It occurred to me,” he said, “that you’ve not yet seen the most magnificent asset of Castle Horstberg. And it also occurred to me, that since the castle belongs to me—at least until I die—I am entitled to give my wife this portion of the castle. Many people may come here to enjoy it, but you will always know that it belongs to you, that it was a gift from me.”

Abbi couldn’t begin to imagine what might fit such a description, until he let go of her hand long enough to open a set of double doors and swing them outward. Surprised laughter burst from her as she stepped outside, her hand resting on his again, and the extraordinary landscape came into view. She understood now why this section of the castle appeared so huge from the outside. The walls actually formed a perimeter for the most breathtaking gardens she had ever seen. Hundreds of late-blooming roses, in every color imaginable, lined a stone path that led into a miniature forest of trees planted in precise rows, and artistically arranged shrubberies. The autumn breeze assaulted her bare shoulders, but Cameron immediately removed his coat and put it around her. In silence they walked the path through the trees to a place where a vast lawn spread into a maze of hedges. The sun had long set behind the castle wall, but not yet beyond the distant mountains, and the gardens glowed with a subtle, indirect light that gave them an almost magical effect. Marble benches flanked the lawn, hinting at the possibilities of huge garden parties and intimate gatherings. As they walked into the maze, Cameron said, “I played here as a child, more hours than I could ever count. Any time of year there was always some adventure waiting among the hedges and trees. I imagine our children doing the same.”

“It’s beautiful, Cameron,” she said and stopped, realizing she’d lost her sense of direction in the maze.

As if he’d read her mind, he chuckled and said, “Don’t worry. I know my way out. But while we’re here . . .” He reached into a deep pocket in his coat that was still around her shoulders and drew out a flat box covered in rich blue velvet. Holding the box on the palms of his hands, he said, “This has been worn by six generations of women who wore the crown of Horstberg.” Abbi quivered inside at the heritage it represented, and her heart quickened as she realized it could only be some kind of jewelry. “One day,” he added, “our son will give it to the woman he marries. But for now, it is yours to bear.” He opened the box and Abbi gasped. It was more beautiful than she’d imagined any jeweled adornment could be. “There are forty-seven diamonds,” he said, “including the teardrop that hangs over the heart as a reminder of the responsibility to the people. As you can see, the diamonds are intricately connected with the finest gold filigree. It was specially ordered and imported, crafted by one of the world’s finest goldsmiths of his time.” Abbi looked at him in question, then again at the necklace. He added with tenderness, “It is yours now.”

“Do I
have
to wear it?” she asked.

He chuckled, finding her attitude more refreshing than he could ever tell her. “Don’t you want to?”

“It’s beautiful, but . . . a little intimidating, I suppose. It must be worth an enormous fortune.”

“It is, actually.” He took it out and put the box back in his pocket. “But it’s only one of many pieces that are available for you to wear as you please.” He went behind her and fastened it around her throat. “This is the oldest piece, however; the one that most represents the legacy of marrying the Duke of Horstberg.”

Abbi touched the intricately woven diamonds that covered a significant portion of her upper chest, concealing the black pearl necklace completely. She couldn’t deny that it added strength to the concept of feeling like a queen. But it also contributed to feeling like an imposter, hiding in some kind of costume. In truth she felt as if she were only
pretending
to be a queen.

“Did Gwendolyn wear it?” she asked.

He remained behind her as he said, “Yes. Wearing it was one of her greatest incentives in marrying me.”

“Surely you’re joking,” she said, turning to face him.

“No, I’m quite serious. Our marriage had been arranged, although I’m certain that either of us could have backed out of the betrothal without upsetting anyone too much. But it was comfortable, and I just accepted it. I’d never considered the possibility of a woman actually giving my life deeper meaning. I saw marriage more as a necessary aspect of life and my position. I did, however, trust that she would be true to me, that we could at least enjoy a life of mutual respect and commitment. Her expectations were much different from mine. She took great pleasure in the prestige and privilege of being the duchess. I quickly lost respect for her, and then I came to hate her.” She pressed compassionate fingers to his face. He smiled and added lightly, “Now you’re going to say something profound like I should be grateful to Nikolaus for setting me free from such a horrid marriage.”

“You are grateful, aren’t you?”

“I’m very grateful to be where I am now, and to have you in my life,” he said and kissed her.

They walked on through the maze while Cameron reminisced more about his childhood in the castle gardens. He and Georg had been playmates from a very young age. Nikolaus and Lance and Gwen had commonly been involved, as well as Magda and Lena.

“I think it’s time we will be expected, Your Grace,” he said, leading her back inside the castle. Abbi longed to stay in the gardens and avoid facing this
little
social, but Cameron kissed her and told her she was beautiful, and she reminded herself that for him, she would do anything. He put his coat on and checked his appearance briefly in a mirror. She turned to do the same and caught her breath. She’d not only forgotten that she was wearing the crown, but she wasn’t prepared for how striking the necklace looked surrounding her throat. And she still wasn’t used to seeing so much of herself exposed, even though she knew it was fashionable and acceptable. She felt disconcerted with her own reflection, until Cameron stepped behind her and put his hands over her shoulders. Seeing herself as a duchess alone was difficult to swallow, but seeing herself coupled with the duke made her feel strong and capable. He had promised to always be by her side. She needed to remember that.

“Shall we, Your Grace?” he asked, moving to her side with his supporting arm in place. She placed her hand over his and took in his warming smile.

Abbi’s stomach tightened and her heart raced with nerves as they moved down a long hall. The effect intensified when she saw the door they were approaching, where a manservant waited, perfectly poised.

“Abbi, you’re trembling,” Cameron said, glancing toward her hand, then her face. She couldn’t speak, knowing her voice would only further betray her nerves. “It’s all right,” he said, and the manservant opened the double doors and swung them into the room.

They hesitated in the doorway. Abbi could clearly see the
little
gathering of sixty or seventy people, all seated down the length of a huge table, drinking champagne and chatting comfortably. She saw some faces she recognized; most she did not. She wondered what they were waiting for, then the manservant bellowed in a voice that startled her, “Announcing Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Horstberg.”

The talking ceased and everyone rose to their feet simultaneously. Applause broke the air as they stepped into the room. Abbi saw all eyes upon her, expressions filled with the same homage and esteem that she’d seen in Cameron. But he was her husband; he loved her. What could these people possibly be thinking? She clearly recognized the faces of the men who had been present when Nikolaus had used her to bargain with his brother. She whispered to Cameron, as if he might not have noticed, “These are the same officers who . . .”

“Yes, they are,” he said. “And
this
is how they will think of you from here forward.”

Abbi felt some relief, even healing, from his words. She was grateful then for the opportunity to restore her dignity with these men in such a way. The applause relinquished to fresh silence as Cameron stopped at the head of the table. Abbi felt uncomfortably conspicuous while her husband gave a brief speech, expressing his love and honor for her, and his gratitude for her being an instrument to bring him back to power. Three times there was applause, and he had to wait for it to die down to continue. It occurred to her then that she was wearing the crown, and he was not. Clearly this was an event intended to honor
her.
He offered a toast, once again declaring his love and appreciation. She was relieved when he finished so they could be seated, and the meal was served. Cameron sat at the head of the table, with her at his right.

“You could have warned me about that,” she whispered to him.

“What? And have you full of nerves?” He laughed softly when she scowled. Then he kissed her hand. “Just relax and enjoy yourself, my dear. You are surrounded by those who love you.”

She realized then that sitting beside her was her father, and her aunts beside him. Georg and Elsa were across the table. Next to them were Lance, Magda, and Lena. There was no one sitting close enough for the exchange of conversation that she didn’t feel completely comfortable with.

“Thank you,” she said, and he smiled. Then she
did
relax and enjoy the meal, relishing the opportunity for casual conversation with her father and amused by the awe of her aunts. They’d surely never expected to have their niece become the duchess. Abbi also enjoyed seeing the interaction between Lance and Georg, and Cameron as well. Their lifelong association became readily evident, while the coincidence of their connections settled into her more deeply. Elsa was quiet but apparently comfortable and having a marvelous time. Lena was visiting quietly with those around her. Magda was animated and prone to much laughter, which was contagious. Abbi loved seeing Cameron laugh so deeply from such simple pleasures. And she realized then that in spite of the grandeur of their surroundings, the fineness of the meal, and the elegance of their apparel, this was still a simple pleasure. The company and laughter of loved ones felt treasured and valuable, more than the diamonds circling her throat.

Long after the meal was over, everyone remained seated, talking and laughing. Then people stood and began to intermix and mingle while they continued to visit. Cameron urged Abbi to her feet, and she tried not to appear nervous as he introduced her to many people, whose names she would forget immediately. She remembered Cameron telling her that people would feel honored just to have her say hello. She could see it in their faces and wanted to scream,
Don’t you know who I really am?
Instead she just smiled and remained politely diplomatic, and mostly silent. Beyond the officers she’d encountered previously, the only person she recognized was Mr. Lumburg. She was thinking of that morning they’d met when he had called her Mrs. du Woernig, which left her surprised when he addressed her as ‘Your Grace.’ The same had been true with Lieutenant Joerger. In fact, she realized since that morning
no one
had called her Mrs. du Woernig—except for Cameron, and that was more a private term of endearment.

After he’d moved away, Abbi whispered to her husband, “Why did Mr. Lumburg and the lieutenant call me Mrs. du Woernig when we first met, but no one has since?”

“Nor will you ever hear it again . . . except from me, perhaps.” He smiled and then answered her question. “They knew you had not yet been crowned. It would have been inappropriate to address you any other way. Now simply being Mrs. du Woernig does not show proper respect for your title.”

Abbi sighed. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but I think I prefer simply being Mrs. du Woernig.”

He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “And to me you always will be.”

Cameron was approached by two more gentlemen that he introduced to her. She noticed that the men had divided from the women, hovering in groups, but Abbi remained on Cameron’s arm, not wanting to get too far from him. She was deeply relieved when Lance appeared at her side while Cameron was engaged in some political discussion with a member of the council.