Behind the Mask (28 page)

Cameron looked into her eyes, attempting to accept what she’d just said.
She needed him?
The thought was as pleasant as it was frightening. He took a deep breath and had to admit, “I need you too, Abbi. Perhaps that’s what scares me. What we share is only temporary.”

Abbi drew her courage and asked, “Does it have to be?”

“Yes!” he snapped so abruptly that it startled her. Seeing her frightened expression, he touched her face in silent apology for his sharp tone. “Yes,” he repeated more softly, “it has to be.”

Abbi watched him walk away, not willing to accept his declaration. She resigned herself to being patient, and doing whatever it took to keep the friendship between them open. Perhaps with time, she could reach the part of Cameron that needed her the most.

As January set in, Abbi became more comfortable with Cameron. He was most often quiet and distant, revealing little about himself, but usually kind and considerate. She began accompanying him to the stable each morning to help with the animals, and Blaze was always pleased to see her.

Watching her with Blaze, Cameron commented, “That horse has the same color of hair that you do. The color of fire.”

“That’s why Georg named him Blaze,” she said. “He says that Blaze and I are soul mates.”

Cameron smiled and took a handful of Abbi’s hair, running it through his long fingers with fascination. “I don’t doubt that,” he said, then turned his attention back to feeding the animals.

The immense depth of the snow made it impossible to ride the horses, but Abbi helped Cameron see that they were each exercised daily. He informed her that one of his mares couldn’t be ridden anyway, since Blaze had gotten her pregnant. He smirked when he told her and Abbi tried not to blush, even though she felt certain he was trying to embarrass her. He added that it was a good thing he’d kept the other mare in separate quarters, so he’d have an animal to ride if he needed to.

Abbi learned to gather eggs and to milk the cow, although she was so bad at it initially that Cameron teased her with no mercy. But at least her awkwardness with the cow and her initial fear of chickens made him laugh. It was good to see him laugh. She had no trouble admitting that she enjoyed the opportunity to be with Cameron whenever possible. And she usually made a point to seek out his companionship, in spite of the silence that generally ruled between them. She found it humorous that the dogs began to follow her more than they did Cameron. He commented on it only once, saying that he couldn’t blame them. Captain took to sitting at Abbi’s side and resting his head in her lap, while Duke enjoyed sleeping directly on top of Abbi’s feet when she sat for long periods of time.

Abbi developed a daily ritual of being near the fire to read after all the work was done. And Cameron usually did the same. They established an unspoken game to choose where they would sit. If Cameron chose the sofa, Abbi would take the chair closest to the fire. And if Abbi chose the opposite sofa, Cameron would take the chair near the desk. They always managed to sit where they could glance up and look at each other, making another game of trying not to get caught looking up.

On a particularly snowy afternoon, Abbi sprawled herself on the sofa with her wool-stockinged feet hanging over the end. Cameron sat low in the chair near the fire, finding that he was less and less interested in his book. He’d read it twice before and it hadn’t been all that compelling to begin with. He couldn’t help watching Abbi. She was like no other woman he’d ever seen. It wasn’t just the striking hair color, or the challenge in her vivid green eyes that made her unforgettable. Nor was it the unique way she carried herself. Gracefulness alone could not describe Abbi. She was elegant and lissome, with an appealing touch of childlike charm. But she was also very wise. How could he ever put a description of her to words, any more than he could describe how she was affecting his life? Now as he watched her reading, she nearly looked like a little girl, and he suddenly had the urge to play.

Abbi never went too many minutes without looking up to see if she could catch Cameron looking at her. She caught him staring boldly, and when he made no attempt to avert his gaze, she stared back. Then, with no warning, he went into a hilarious imitation of a wild animal, gritting his teeth and walking toward her with his arms outstretched, making deep growling noises. She squealed with laughter as he pulled her into his arms, tickling her mercilessly. His laugh joined hers and they rolled together onto the floor. Abbi beat her fists against him in protest until he finally stopped, only to say with mock wickedness, “The big bad wolf has come to devour you, little Goldilocks.”

“There’s no big bad wolf in the story of Goldilocks,” she said breathlessly. “You’re getting your fairy tales mixed up.”

“If I’m the big bad wolf, I can do whatever I want,” he said and tickled her again. She screamed and laughed until he finally relented.

“You must be mad,” she said, out of breath all over again.

“Yes,” he said, lying back on the floor beside her, “I believe I am. I just couldn’t bear the silence any longer.”

Abbi turned to look into his eyes. “Would you say that we are friends?” she asked.

“No doubt,” he replied easily.

“And will we always be friends? When it comes time for me to leave here, will we ever see each other again?”

“I can’t answer that.” He sighed. “Change the subject, please. I must confess that your leaving here is not my favorite topic.”

“Then you
do
like me,” she said lightly.

“Yes,” he said with a chuckle. “I do.”

They both lay silently on the floor until Abbi realized Cameron was asleep. She relaxed and took pleasure in being near him, eventually falling asleep herself.

Cameron woke to find Abbi’s head on his shoulder. He relished her closeness for a few minutes before he eased away and stood, glad that he’d not awakened her. Watching Abbi sleep, he convinced himself that it was all right to appreciate her companionship while he had it. But he had to be careful to keep his thoughts and feelings in perspective. Then he quietly went upstairs.

Abbi woke to a gentle poking in her ribs. Opening her eyes, she saw Cameron standing above her with his hands on his hips. She focused on him and grinned. “My, don’t you look fine,” she said.

Cameron only smiled and reached down his hand to help her up. Once standing, Abbi couldn’t resist touching his freshly trimmed beard. Then she realized his hair was shorter. It still hung to the bottom of his neck, which was obviously a length where he could reach to trim it himself. She couldn’t resist touching that as well. “You do look nice,” she said, standing back to get a better look at him. “And you don’t look quite so wicked.”

“Well, I’m
still
wicked,” he teased and chased her to the table, where they sat to eat as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

Lance stood from behind his desk as one of his lieutenants entered through the open door. His office was adjacent to the keep, where prisoners were kept, and not far from the courtroom, where orders of justice on behalf of Horstberg were meted out. Although, much of the time these days, Lance had trouble seeing that
justice
had much to do with the majority of what took place there. He pushed away uneasy feelings that were becoming more and more difficult to smother and turned his full attention to the lieutenant, whose expression indicated that something was amiss.

“What is it?” Lance demanded, reminding himself not to take out his foul moods on those he worked with.

“The petition of clemency we discussed yesterday, regarding the prisoner whose family is—”

“Yes, I know who you mean,” Lance said, not wanting to hear the details again. It would only sting his open wounds and he was not up for it.

“His Grace has still not signed it,” he stated, holding up the document in question.

Lance felt horrified and at the same time not at all surprised. While a man, falsely accused, was languishing in a prison cell, his family, who had some extreme needs and endured extenuating circumstances, were suffering in his absence. The matter had been thoroughly discussed by every committee that was in place to help rule this country, and it had been put repeatedly before Nikolaus du Woernig, requiring his final approval before it could be resolved. Nikolaus had reluctantly agreed, mostly because he seemed to prefer more than anything to not be bothered by it any further. He had promised to sign the paper to make it official the previous day. Lance had wrongly assumed it had been taken care of and the man in question had been reunited with his family. He could now add this to the growing list accumulating in his mind of reasons why he needed to
personally
act as a nursemaid to the Duke of Horstberg through every detail of important matters, or they would never be taken care of.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Lance said gruffly, taking the paper from his hands. “I’ll see to it. Does anyone have
any
idea where His Grace might be at the moment?”

“None, sir. He is nowhere in the castle as far as anyone can tell.”

“That’s wonderful,” Lance murmured with harsh sarcasm and hurried out to the courtyard to mount one of the many horses that were always kept saddled and ready to go in case members of the Guard were ever needed urgently to enforce the law.

It only took Lance a minute’s thought as he rode to know where he was mostly likely to find his childhood friend now turned tyrant. And the very idea made him sick to his stomach. Nikolaus’s riotous living was getting more and more out of hand, and Lance was often haunted by words Magda had once said to him:
Revolutions brew when good people are subjected to such ridiculous tyranny.

Sure enough, Lance found the Duke of Horstberg in a brothel, and a rather unsavory one as far as brothels went. Lance ignored the scantily clad women, ordered them all to give him some privacy with the duke, biting his tongue against chastising him because he knew it would only spur a pointless argument that he would inevitably lose because by all rights and measures Nikolaus was the man with the power. So Lance just put the paper in front of Nikolaus, reminded him of his promise to sign it, stood there while he did, and rode back to the castle, trying not to fume, and trying even harder not to feel terrified of what the future might bring for this country he loved so dearly.

Lance personally saw to releasing the falsely accused man from prison, and he personally escorted him home to be reunited with his family. Observing the joyous and tearful reunion soothed his pain somewhat, and he reminded himself that he
was
doing some good, even if it was only a little here and there. He simply had to keep striving to make a difference on behalf of the people, even if it was only in tiny increments. If he remained entirely focused on
that
every waking moment of his life, perhaps he could stop thinking about Abbi. Somehow, he knew that all of this would be easier if she were here, if she were alive. But she wasn’t. And just as when he’d lost Gwen, he had no choice but to keep going. And so he would.

A week into January, Abbi became confronted with an unexplainable urgency. It was as if time were somehow running out. But for what? There were months left until she could leave. Perhaps it would take that long to get Cameron to learn something that she was supposed to teach him. But what? She wanted to believe there was a future for them, that they were meant to share their lives in every way, but she reminded herself often that she didn’t know what the future held, and she had to be careful not to let her wants and emotions confuse her purpose—whatever that purpose might be.

Abbi carefully pondered the events that had occurred since she’d first dreamed of Cameron’s mountain lodge. She recounted her feelings, and the evidence she’d had that there was far more to Cameron than he often let on. Still, she remained confused. And her confusion was only compounded by Cameron’s guarded manner. He remained polite and friendly, but the affection they’d shared on occasion had become nonexistent. He seemed determined to remain friends alone—at all costs. But Abbi felt certain that she would never reach the deepest part of him as long as he remained so aloof. She wondered how she might get him to trust her, to open up to her. And she prayed day and night for strength and guidance.