Behind the Mask (57 page)

“I’ll get even,” Georg said.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Cameron said to the bishop, taking his hands again. “One day soon, I hope to do this again—publicly, just for the sake of it.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” the bishop said, who kissed Abbi’s cheek before moving toward the hallway that led to his offices.

Cameron turned to the other witness and shook his hand. “Thank you, Boris. I’ll see you later tonight.”

Abbi panicked to hear this and turned questioning eyes to Cameron as Georg handed back Cameron’s cloak. Then Georg and Boris followed the bishop, clearly with the intent of giving her and Cameron some time alone. She knew her new husband had read the distress in her eyes before she had a chance to ask.

“I know I should be with you tonight, Abbi. And I want to be, more than you can imagine.” He pulled her into his arms and held her closely.

“What’s . . . happening, Cameron?” she asked, feeling afraid.

“Georg has arranged for me to meet with some men who can help me. It’s vital that I go tonight. It’s all arranged. And it will likely take some time.”

“When will I see you again?” she asked, looking into his eyes.

“Tomorrow night,” he said and kissed her. “I promise.” He took a long minute to gaze at her. “I love you so much, Abbi. I pray this will all be behind us very soon.”

“As do I,” she said and held to him tightly, burying her face against his chest, loving the familiarity of him after being apart for so long. She could feel his hand at the back of her head. His lips pressed into her hair as he held her with a desperation that echoed the way she felt.

“I must go,” he said, easing back only enough to look at her. He kissed her again, this time with a familiar passion that made her ache to never let him go.

Cameron used great willpower to step back and throw the cloak around his shoulders. “Be careful,” she whispered.

He smiled, appreciating the fact that she didn’t know what he was
really
up to. Every day he was more grateful for her ignorance. “I’ll see you tomorrow night,” he said and touched his nose to hers. “I promise.”

Abbi watched him walk away, her heart beating in time with the heels of his boots against the stone floor. He turned back once for a moment before disappearing into the darkness, like a phantom disintegrating into a mist. She waited until she heard the huge door open and close. Then she sat down on one of the altar steps and wept. She was Cameron’s wife now—officially. She had to keep that in mind. He’d come back to her. He’d kept his word. But what now? She’d thought earlier that she could endure almost anything for two weeks. But now she felt doubtful. Loneliness and fear crept through her like some kind of disease, determined to consume every part of her body and soul.

“Abbi.” Georg’s voice startled her. “It’s late. Let me take you home.”

Abbi numbly put her hand into Georg’s and allowed him to lead her to where the horses had been left. He escorted her directly to her bedroom door, where he kissed her hand and offered assurances that all would be well. Her thoughts were tumbling when she crawled into bed, but thankfully exhaustion overruled and she slept soundly.

Just before two in the morning, Cameron and Georg discreetly rode west of town, down long roads between a series of farms, finally stopping at a large barn that belonged to the friend of a friend. They tethered their horses along a corral fence, where many horses had already been left. Georg led Cameron through a side door into a storage area for tools and equipment.

“Wait here,” Georg said and slipped through a door into the main area of the barn. Cameron could hear the murmur of many men’s voices. His heart pounded with fear and anticipation. This was a moment he’d been waiting for. But now that it had come, the reality was unsettling. He knew on the other side of that door were better than a hundred men; men who had been painstakingly selected through a grapevine of careful whisperings. They’d been told that he was alive, and that he had the means to aid a cause they’d been itching to fight for. Many of these men were currently serving as officers of the Duke’s Guard, putting much on the line to be a part of this revolution. Cameron thought of the lieutenant who had already lost his life for the cause. His heart ached for this man and his family. He prayed that no more lives would be lost, and that he might be able to get through this ordeal unscathed and emerge with his freedom—for Abbi’s sake, as well as his own.

Cameron was startled from his thoughts when Georg opened the door, saying, “I think we’re ready. Everyone’s accounted for.”

“Thank you, Georg.” He stepped into the well-lit barn where bales of hay and straw served as benches for the assembled men. Upon his entrance there was a sudden hush, and then every man stood, sending up a cheer that left Cameron speechless. When they finally quieted down, he had to blink back his emotion. He broke the silence with a chuckle that was intended to cover his sudden urge to cry. He looked up and scanned the expectant faces in the room.

“Thank you,” he said. “Your efforts and sacrifices are truly appreciated.” He cleared his throat more loudly than he’d intended and forged ahead. “For those of you who once served with me, I trust your captain has treated you well in my absence. I know he is a good man, and I pray that he will be forgiving of what we are about to embark upon.” Again the men applauded, as if to say that they shared his sentiment. Not knowing what else to say, he motioned toward Georg. “I’ll turn the time over to Georg, who knows a lot more about what’s going on than I do.”

Cameron sat down on a nearby barrel and listened as specific plans were laid out and talked through repeatedly. He felt some hope in seeing how well Georg had thought through every aspect of the situation. Everything was mapped out carefully, and each man knew his assignment well. They just had a few missing pieces to fill in. If all was carried through as planned, Cameron could have his life back in a fortnight.

Abbi woke late, exhausted but starving. She blessed Elsa when she noticed a tray on the bureau with fruit, buttered bread, and cheese. She’d nearly had her fill when Elsa came to the room.

“Did you sleep well, Miss?” Elsa asked.

“Very well, thank you. But I still feel tired. And you?”

“Not at all well,” she said. “Georg was gone more than half the night. It’s certainly not the first time, but . . . well, he tells me not to worry. But it’s difficult not to when . . .” She trailed off with emotion that she was attempting to stifle. Abbi felt perfect empathy as she watched Elsa straighten the bed and fluff the pillows vehemently. She had no qualm about sharing information that might ease her concerns somewhat. If nothing else, they could worry together.

“Elsa,” Abbi took her hand and guided her to the edge of the bed where they sat close together. “Georg was with me last night, at least for a little while.”

Elsa’s eyes widened and Abbi went on. “I was home before midnight, but I do know that he was with . . . my husband.”

“Husband?” Elsa echoed breathlessly.

“That’s right,” Abbi said quietly. “But you mustn’t tell a soul—not anyone.”

“I wouldn’t, of course. You know that.”

“Yes, I know, or I wouldn’t be telling you.”

“Is he the man you were dancing with?” Elsa asked.

“Yes, that was him. I’ve only seen him one other time since I came home last spring. We were married last night, and then he told me he had some important matters to take care of. I’m certain Georg was with him.”

Elsa looked stunned. “Then . . .” She seemed to have difficulty gathering her thoughts. “Then . . . your husband . . . must be Georg’s friend, who is in trouble.”

Abbi nodded. “That’s right.”

“What kind of trouble?” Elsa asked.

“In truth, I know little more than you do.” She laughed softly, choosing to focus on the humor of the situation, rather than her concerns. “I don’t even know my husband’s surname. I suppose that makes me nameless for the time being. But he was accused of a crime he didn’t commit, and they are working very hard to prove his innocence, although I’m certain it’s much bigger than that. He has asked me to trust him, and he’s certain my ignorance could protect me. I’m certain Georg’s motives for you are the same.”

Elsa sighed and became thoughtful again. “Georg told me it would all be over in a couple of weeks.”

“He told me the same,” Abbi said. They sighed together and embraced, and Abbi was grateful to have an ally who understood the concerns of a woman.

Abbi forced herself to get dressed, knowing she needed her life to appear as normal as possible. Once Elsa had finished with her hair, she went down to the lawn to paint, hoping it would help pass the time. Still, the day dragged. Lance came for lunch, and she felt particularly hypocritical walking through the gardens with him, holding his hand—especially when she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed his company. After he left, she returned to the lawn to work on her painting until she couldn’t bear sitting there another minute.

Abbi returned to her room early evening, tired and discouraged. She wanted only to be with Cameron, and looked at the coming days of waiting and wondering as pure torture. She shared supper with her aunts but had little appetite. Pleading exhaustion, she excused herself and went to her room to lie down. She woke some time later feeling on edge, wondering when Cameron would come. Needing something to occupy her time, she rang for Elsa, certain a hot bath would soothe her tense nerves. When darkness settled and Elsa hadn’t come, Abbi became impatient and went to find her, trying not to wonder what awful thing might have happened to keep Cameron away.

As soon as it was dark, Cameron moved stealthily across the huge lawn. He’d been told where to find Abbi’s room and quickly located the rope Georg had left hanging from her balcony and tucked into some shrubbery. He was grateful for the strength he’d gained from all that wood he’d chopped as he took hold with gloved hands and worked his way up, hand over hand, until he reached the balcony. The door had been left open to let in the summer breeze. Checking to be certain there were no servants in the room, he slipped quietly inside. He turned the wick up on the lamp that had been left burning and slowly soaked in Abbi’s personality from the room. He was struck with the stark differences from the life they had shared on the mountain, and he smiled as he touched the dried crown of flowers that hung over a corner of her mirror. And he noted that the little bouquet he’d turned over to Georg was in a small vase.

Hearing footsteps in the hall, Cameron quickly crossed the room and hid himself behind the draperies, in case it wasn’t Abbi. He felt relieved to see her, but a maid entered a moment later. While the maid fussed in the room and prepared a bath, Cameron discreetly watched Abbi. She looked different in these surroundings, and yet they suited her so well. He was glad to see that she still wore the bracelet, and he couldn’t help smiling when she fondly toyed with the flower he’d given her yesterday.

Abbi picked up the little wilted wildflower from her bedside table and touched it idly to her face. It was in sorry shape from the dozens of times she’d carried out the ritual since Cameron had given it to her, but it was tangible evidence that she had seen him, and holding it gave her comfort.