Behind the Mask (116 page)

“Yes, Your Grace,” he said, and she left the room.

Cameron saw Georg’s disgusted expression and held up a finger before he could open his mouth. “Don’t say a word,” Cameron muttered. “What takes place between me and my wife is none of your affair.”

“She is dear to me, as you are,” Georg said. “If something is wrong then—”

“Captain,” Cameron said on his way to the door, “please see that the security is tightened, and I’ll be expecting you to shadow her every movement.”

“Of course,” Lance said.

Cameron grabbed his coat and gloves and put them on as he headed toward the courtyard, wondering if he should feel angry or terrified. He concluded that it was both. But neither had any probable solution at the moment. And that made him even more angry—
and
terrified. But he subdued both as he approached his wife and helped her into the sidesaddle.

“Are you all right?” he asked, noting how very pregnant she looked.

Her discomfort was evident but she said, “I’m fine. Thank you.”

Cameron mounted and rode beside her, well surrounded by men in uniform. Watching Abbi, he allowed pleasure to override his anger. While they rode he took her hand and pressed it to his lips. “You look beautiful today, Your Grace. It
is
good to see you in daylight.” She gave him an almost wicked smile, and he knew she had conspired this to make a point. But he could hardly blame her. He kissed her gloved hand again, and said, “Be careful.”

“And you,” she said.

Arriving in the market square, Abbi realized how terribly long it had been since she’d shown her face in public. She was freshly startled by the deference and awe that confronted her at every turn. As always, she mostly kept close to Cameron and said little, well aware that Captain Dukerk was never more than inches from her. While Cameron was conversing with an acquaintance, she said to Lance, “He told you to do this, didn’t he.”

“Do what, Your Grace?”

“Pretending innocence will get you nowhere, Captain. Either he ordered you to shadow my every movement, or there is some invisible magnetic force that prevents you from being more than an inch away from me.”

“Perhaps both,” he said with a little chuckle, and Abbi tossed him a comical scowl.

While she was looking over a variety of crystal vases, she said, “Are you happy, Captain?”

“Are you?” he countered.

“It’s not polite to ignore the duchess when she questions you.”

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” he said immediately, his tone light. But she could tell he meant it when he said, “I find great fulfillment and pleasure in working with your husband. My occupation is more pleasant than it has ever been.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said.

“And is there a woman in your life?”

“Is that a requirement of the position?” he asked facetiously. Again she scowled and he added, “Only you, Your Grace. I am sworn to protect and defend you.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“There is no one who holds any interest for me,” he said. “But I’m not brokenhearted over being abandoned at the altar, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I’m glad to hear that, as well,” she said, and moved on with Lance right behind her.

Abbi tried to relax and enjoy the outing, but she was keenly aware of the cautious eyes of the military personnel following them closely—even though their efforts were discreet, and they gave the appearance of being distracted and careless. Her instincts felt on edge, but glancing at Cameron and the officers, she wondered if theirs did too, even if any indication of it was imperceptible and reserved. Reminding herself that they were being well protected, she tried to force her thoughts to the pleasure of being outside of castle walls, while she kept close to her husband. Her mind had wandered completely away from any threat to their safety, when a deep voice shouted with urgency, “Take down!”

By the time Abbi heard the gunshot and the crowds screaming, she was wrapped in protective arms, on her way to the ground. Captain Dukerk broke her fall with his own body, then instantly rolled her to her back, putting himself between her and any possible danger. Abbi met Lance’s eyes, startled by how close he was, and how efficiently and painlessly he had saved her from whatever had just happened. But her mind went to Cameron. She heard sounds of chaos, orders flying, and an officer shouting in alarm, “He’s shot!”

She saw Lance turn to assess the situation, while keeping her shielded. “Is it him?” she asked with a quavering voice as he looked again at her. Through a split-second’s hesitation, she knew his memory was the same as hers. Together at the altar. The intrusion of their wedding. Then, just as now, she needed to know if Cameron was safe.

“No, he’s fine,” Lance said and sat up, looking over his shoulder. Abbi looked that way just as Cameron’s eyes moved frantically in her direction. He too was on the ground, and his relief was visible when he saw her. She heard the officers speaking frantically to each other, making it clear what had just happened. While Lance went to his feet, she quickly took in the astonished crowd being held back by a slew of officers. Apparently the gunshot had brought them from many directions. The man who was apparently responsible had been forced to his knees, his arm twisted up behind his back by one of the two officers flanking him. The gun was on the ground. She saw Cameron’s eyes move to the lieutenant on the ground beside him, bleeding profusely from a bullet wound in his shoulder.

“Damn!” Cameron muttered, and only had to move a few inches to kneel beside the man who had just taken a bullet intended for the duke. Abbi recognized his face, but didn’t know his name.

Lance helped her to her feet. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, thank you,” she said, and squeezed his hand before she knelt with Lance’s help beside the wounded man.

“He’ll be fine,” she heard someone say. “The doctor is coming.”

“You just saved my life, Lieutenant,” Cameron said, removing his coat. “I can never repay you.”

“Just doing my duty, sir,” he replied, clearly in pain as he glanced at his bleeding shoulder. “Looks like I got lucky.”

“Looks like we both did,” Cameron said, and rolled his coat to put it beneath the lieutenant’s head.

While Cameron tried to make the lieutenant comfortable and offer some reassurance, he was surprised to see his wife remove the scarf from around her neck and press it over the wound. She held her hand there while the lieutenant showed surprise at her attention. Then she pressed her free hand to one side of his face and kissed the other.

The lieutenant’s awe was not diminished by the evidence of his pain. “You honor me too greatly, my lady.”

“No,” she said with tears on her face. “You have given me my husband’s life. I could never honor you sufficiently.”

Cameron took a moment to absorb the essence of a true duchess before he quickly assessed the damages—then the cause for them overtook him with instant rage. He came to his feet and found the culprit on his knees, being held at a disadvantage. But his eyes met Cameron’s with defiance. Oblivious to his audience, Cameron snarled, “I assume you have some glorious justification for putting my men at such risk.”

“Only the wish to see you
die.”

“How very bold!” Cameron said with harsh sarcasm and threw a fist into his face.

The man’s determination was apparently not affected as he growled, “I am sworn to avenge Nikolaus du Woernig’s death, if it’s the last thing I do.”

Cameron gave a caustic chuckle. “It’s all worked out nicely then, since I am sworn to undo his every misdeed.” He hit him again. “I can’t tell you how convenient it is for me to find someone who actually has the nerve to admit a connection to the miscreant.” He hit him again. “You have avenged
nothing,
but it certainly
will be
the last thing you do.” He hit him once more. Then he turned to walk away as if he had no further interest in the matter. “Lock him up,” he said casually to Lieutenant Joerger. “The execution will be at sunrise.”

Cameron knew exactly what had happened when he heard a groan, and then the drawing of a sword. He’d been expecting it, hoping for it. In truth he knew the officers holding this man had been, too. Otherwise they would have put him in cuffs minutes ago. It was all part of the plan that had been carefully discussed and analyzed, over and over. While they couldn’t have been certain of exactly how the villain would go about his crime, they had pondered many possibilities, rehearsing them carefully.

Cameron was fully prepared to pull a sword from the sheath of an officer standing conveniently beside him. He turned just in time to knock the sword from his assailant’s hand that had been aimed for his own back. With no hesitance, Cameron pushed his own sword through the man’s chest then drew it out again. The villain fell face down, clearly dead. Screams and gasps of horror brought him back to the realization that crowds were gathered and had witnessed this horrendous event. But that had been part of the plan, as well. His biggest concern was for Abbi. He turned to find her face hidden against the Captain’s shoulder, and his arm protectively around her. He could only feel grateful to have such a fine man at his side who would look out for her so perfectly.

Cameron gauged the crowd and took advantage of the opportunity to put the proper conclusion on the matter. “Is there anyone else?” he shouted, turning a slow circle while he held the bloodied sword high. “I suspect those of you who would have favored seeing this man succeed have likely come out to witness this attempt on my life. And I
know
you can hear my voice! Therefore let me make myself perfectly clear. Slither back into your rat holes and ponder long and hard that tyranny and oppression and the support of these things will
not
be tolerated in my country! Either live by the laws of Horstberg, or
leave!
If you choose to honor Nikolaus du Woernig, then you either have no comprehension of the evil he enforced upon my people, or you’re as cowardly and sniveling as he was. Take a look around and see the good people who only want to work, and live, and raise their families in peace. Dare admit your loyalties aloud, and they will tear you to pieces, because these are the people who felt the brunt of my brother’s selfish indulgence. Before any man or woman might dare to stand against me, they must first stand beside me and look into the faces of the homeless, and starving, and falsely accused who suffered immeasurably under Nikolaus du Woernig’s reign. Whatever he promised was a lie; whatever he gained was through cheating and deception; whatever power he had was stolen. And I will
not
tolerate acceptance of any such thing! Either you stand with me, or you stand against me. And if you stand against me, then have the courage to show your face and declare it boldly.” Silence answered him. “Anyone?” he shouted. Not a sound could be heard; not even a baby’s cry.

“Good!” Cameron said, and tossed the sword to the ground where it clattered on the cobblestone. “Then the matters rests. May we all live in peace.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

THE DUKE’S MISTRESS

A
cheer went up from the crowd, which Cameron ignored while he surmised that a doctor was with the lieutenant, who was being moved to the nearest hospital. As he was lifted onto a stretcher by his fellow officers, Cameron took his hand, saying, “Thank you again, my good man. We will see that your family is cared for while you recover.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” he said, and was taken away.

Cameron approached the captain, who still had an arm around his wife. “Thank you, Captain,” he said, and Abbi moved into his arms. “I am grateful to have her looked after by someone so capable and committed.”

“An honor, Your Grace,” Lance said, and moved away to see that the situation was under control.

“Are you all right?” Cameron asked quietly, looking into her eyes. She shook her head. “Are you hurt or—”

“No, just . . . shaken. Can we go home now?”

“Of course,” he said, and called for their horses.

Back at the castle, Cameron stayed with Abbi a short while, until she was resting and left in Elsa’s care. After enduring long, tedious meetings to analyze the conclusion of the situation, he finally returned to the bedroom late and found Abbi sitting in a chair with her feet propped up on another. He lifted her feet and sat there, replacing them on his lap. She had that look in her eyes, the same look that had been there when she’d discovered he was a du Woernig. And he hated it.

“What’s troubling you?” he asked, trying to keep his own tightly strung emotions out of his voice. “And don’t lie to me and try to convince me that everything’s fine.”

“Do you think you will ever trust me again to be honest with my feelings?” she asked, sounding as angry as he felt. “While you consider whether or not to forgive me for withholding certain things from you, consider your guilt over the same matter.”

Cameron looked away, hating how her words bit deeply. But he ignored the issue and looked at her again, repeating his question. “What’s troubling you?”

Abbi turned her eyes down. “I saw you kill a man today.”

Cameron felt angry, but he tempered it and stated the truth. “I’m sorry you had to see it, but I’m not sorry I killed him. As you may have noticed, it was either him or me.”