Behind the Mask (70 page)

Read Behind the Mask Online

Authors: Elizabeth D. Michaels

Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Historical, #Religion & Spirituality, #Fiction, #Medieval, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Christianity, #Christian Fiction, #Historical Romance, #Buchanan series, #the captain of her heart, #saga, #Anita Stansfield, #Horstberg series, #Romance, #Inspirational, #clean romance

Abbi made an interested noise, then she yawned and Cameron laughed. He worked at the melody a short while longer before saying, “Do you want to hear it?”

“Of course,” she said with enthusiasm.

Cameron grinned sheepishly and cleared his throat. “I’m not much of a singer, but here goes.”

He played a slight introduction, then he put accompaniment with the melody, and began to sing softly . . .

“I know a place where snow falls white; that’s where I long to be.

Where castle turrets strike moonlight, and shine where I can see.

I’ve known my love on mountains high, where meadows bloom in blue.

I know my love is there for me; I know that love is true.

There is a place where snow falls deep, and warmth is near the hearth.

Deep in my sweetheart’s dreams I sleep; there’s comfort in this warmth.

The world is cold and brash outside; I fear what it imparts.

But I know my love is here with me; a fire burns in my heart.”

Cameron finished and looked up at Abbi saying, “There is a dream I have, about the way our life will be. You instilled that dream in me, Abbi. That song is about you.”

Abbi was too moved to speak. Cameron kissed her warmly and they went back upstairs. She hummed the melody as they returned to the bedroom. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Sounds almost like a lullaby.”

Cameron’s eyes widened. “I believe you’re right. A lullaby for Erich.”

“Erich?” she questioned.

“Our son.” He grinned. “The one with red hair, riding the hobbyhorse.”

Abbi pressed her hand over her belly. “Yes, of course,” she whispered, “our son.” She liked the name Erich; it felt right. “Why Erich?” she asked.

He met her eyes and she sensed the reasons had deep meaning for him. “Erich is my second name.”

“Cameron Erich,” she said to try it out. “It suits you well.”

“My mother told me she’d wanted the names reversed; she wanted me to be called Erich. I’m not certain of her sentiment for the name, but I believe it would mean something to her if I named my son Erich.”

“Then Erich it shall be,” Abbi said, and he smiled.

Cameron left at dawn as usual. Abbi went back to sleep and woke feeling refreshed. Lying quietly on her back, she felt a sensation deep within, a fluttering tremor comparable to what she felt at the thought of Cameron, but more tangible. Only taking a moment to realize what it was, Abbi touched herself where the child was becoming more prominent, and tears came to her eyes. The baby was truly alive and growing. She could feel him moving deep inside, giving her a realistic unity with Cameron. Even in his absence, a part of him flourished inside of her, and the newfound evidence of their child’s existence touched Abbi, giving her a new hope that everything would come together all right.

Cameron went to the little house behind the stables where Georg and Elsa lived. Since Elsa had actually met him, he’d been able to come here without waiting in the stable for her to leave for the big house to begin her day’s work. He slipped quietly through a side door and found Georg sitting as he typically did at the kitchen table, reading a newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee.

Cameron poured himself a cup and asked, “Don’t you ever sleep? I have to leave Abbi’s room while it’s dark, but you could tell me to go sleep on the couch, or in the hay or something, until it’s actually daylight.”

“Why would I do that when we have so much work to do?” Georg asked without taking his concentration from the paper. “Besides, I sleep here and there. And I’ve got plans to catch up on my rest while you’re on your honeymoon.”

“How delightful,” Cameron said and sat down across from him. He couldn’t help the sarcasm as he added, “What great task do we have before us today?”

He hated the seemingly endless hours over the past several days that he’d been holed up here, while Georg had meticulously guided him through countless details of the plans being formulated. But today Georg stood and slid a wooden box out from under the table, which he set down with a thud in front of Cameron, declaring with a grin, “Look what Franz borrowed from the ducal office.”

“Borrowed?”
Cameron asked skeptically, knowing that Franz was someone who currently worked at the castle, but loathed the man he worked for.

“They’ll be back before anyone notices them missing. Everyone up there is preoccupied with a couple of days of entertaining visiting dignitaries. Here, you’ll need these.” Georg handed Cameron his glasses.

“I was hoping you might have lost them since yesterday, but I should know better than to think that you might miss a single detail.”

Georg just tossed him a comical smirk.

“By the way,” Cameron added as he put on his glasses and began perusing the deep stack of papers in the box. “Abbi thought you should know that since I’m her husband, you’re actually working for me now.”

Georg chuckled. “Maybe. But you’re still at my mercy for a few more days, so you’d be wise to do as I tell you.”

“She said that, too,” Cameron added with mock chagrin.

“Wise woman, Abbi.”

“Indeed.”

“Study and learn, my friend,” Georg said. “I’ve got work to do.”

Cameron grabbed his arm before he could leave. He whispered, “When Elsa leaves, I need to talk to you.” They both knew she was in the other room, likely just coming awake, and Cameron didn’t want to be overheard.

Georg nodded and replied softly, “I’ll be back.” In a normal tone he added, “My mother will bring you some breakfast, as usual.”

“Thank you,” Cameron said, and Georg left the room.

Long after both Georg and Elsa had left to see to their work, and Cameron had eaten his breakfast, he wandered the house and attempted to find some interest in the papers Georg wanted him to see. He knew the information was important and he was getting the gist of it, but he felt restless and horribly weary of living this way. He wished that Abbi could come out here and spend some time with him, or that he could sneak into the big house and be with her. How could they exist so close together and yet struggle with the distance between them? But Georg had made it clear that Abbi’s habits needed to remain normal, and Cameron needed to be especially careful to avoid being seen—especially during daylight hours. A fat lot of good that rule had done them, he thought, considering his late-night visit from the captain.

Georg finally returned past noon, bringing some lunch for both of them.

“Thank you,” Cameron said as Georg set the tray that his mother had sent on the table, but at the moment he felt no appetite and paced instead while Georg started to eat.

“What’s wrong?” Georg asked. “Talk to me.”

“I’m sick to death of this,” Cameron said, beginning with the most trivial point. “I feel like a caged animal if I stay in, and if I go out it’s like . . . there’s some enormous foxhunt going on—and I’m the fox. Truthfully, Georg, if I didn’t believe that someone out there might benefit from what I can accomplish, it would be tempting to just turn myself in and end this masquerade, once and for all.”

“I don’t think Abbi would appreciate such an attitude.”

“No, I’m certain she wouldn’t.” He stopped pacing as if that might help him think of her more clearly. “If anything can get me through this, it’s her.”

“I think God knew that,” Georg said.

Cameron sighed. “Yes, I’m certain He did.” He started pacing again. “In fact, the evidence that God is with us in this continues to mount . . . but at the same time . . . I wonder how close to the edge He will take me. At times I truly wonder if I’m meant to survive this, but if it’s my time to go I wish He’d just get it over with.”

Georg seemed to pick up on the added edge in Cameron’s manner. He straightened in his chair and demanded, “What happened?”

Cameron tossed him a hesitant glance and kept pacing. Georg needed to know, but he didn’t want to tell him.

“Stand still and tell me what happened!” Georg ordered.

Cameron stopped moving, but looked the other way as he said, “Captain Dukerk paid me a visit last night.”

“What?” Georg erupted out of his chair and walked around the table to stand directly in front of Cameron, as if to see that he really meant it. “Tell me what happened!”

Cameron could never recall ever seeing him so agitated. Evidently the stress was getting to Georg, as well. “Obviously I’m still here,” Cameron said. “He didn’t arrest me or run me through, but he could have easily enough. I guess that’s what bothers me most.”

Georg stared at him, horrified and visibly upset.

“Maybe you’d better sit down, Georg. You don’t look so good.”

“I will if you will,” Georg said, and they each took a chair.

Cameron repeated the encounter in detail, reiterating every bit of the conversation as much as he could recall. Georg was thoughtfully silent while he listened, occasionally asking a question. He remained quiet long after Cameron had finished, then he leaned back in his chair. “Maybe you gave him something to think about. The fact that he’s obviously turning the other way while he
knows
you’re alive is a good indication that he’s not completely against whatever he believes you might be up to.”

“Or maybe it’s more about Abbi,” Cameron said, surprised at his own anger. “Maybe he’s standing by and allowing me to live for
her
sake. He’s that kind of man, you know. That’s the
only
reason I can accept him as part of the back-up plan in case I don’t make it through this. Whatever Lance Dukerk may or may not be, he is a gallant soul. He
loves
her. He would
die
for her. And what that means, Georg, is that without Abbi we would probably
all
have gone before a firing squad by now. And what have I done to her? I’ve put her into the middle of this
wretched
nightmare for the sake of what?”

“For the sake of having the life with her that you deserve. I really believe that when this is over, she will understand.”

“I wish I could feel so confident on that count,” Cameron said. “But we have a new issue to consider. Lance now knows that Abbi is lying to him. She told him she didn’t know if I was dead or alive, gave him the impression she hadn’t seen me for a long time. Now he’s seen with his own eyes that’s not the case. He knows I’m sleeping in her bed while she spends her days with him. If the matter were reversed, I can assure you I would be
very
unhappy about that. He told me he’d be at the wedding, but I can’t be certain what he meant exactly, and I can’t help wondering if his attitude toward Abbi will change.”

Georg sighed. “Do you think we should tell Abbi he knows that—”

“No, I do not. It’s already far too complicated, and I don’t want her to worry more. For all that Lance may or may not be, if I thought he would treat her unkindly I would have never agreed to this charade. I just want all of this to be over, one way or another.” He began eating, signaling clearly that he no longer wanted to discuss the matter.

Cameron was relieved when Georg stayed but changed the subject. “What happened?” he asked, pointing to the scar on the back of Cameron’s left hand. “It wasn’t there before.”

Cameron looked at the scar and chuckled from the memory that came to mind. “That’s what happens when you bite the hand that may end up feeding you.”

“Excuse me?” Georg chuckled.

“It’s a very long story.”

“I’m not in a hurry, and you can’t go anywhere.”

Cameron smiled at his friend, then he spent more than an hour telling him how the scar on his hand was a continual reminder of how Abbi Albrecht had changed his life.

Chapter Twenty

CAUGHT BETWEEN

A
bbi felt assured through the course of the day that the wedding plans were going well. Marta had everything under control. And when her wedding gown was delivered early afternoon, Abbi couldn’t help feeling a rush of excitement. Mrs. Schilling and her assistant also brought armloads of veils and accessories. When Abbi realized how much work bringing everything gave the dressmaker, she wished that she had simply offered to come back into town to try on the dress, instead of having Mrs. Schilling go to so much trouble. But it was too late now.

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