Behind the Mask (32 page)

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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

BOOK: Behind the Mask
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Lance approached the door of Magda’s sitting room, having been informed by a maid that she would be there. He lifted his hand to knock, then drew it back, needing to question once more his decision to bring her into this problem. Knowing he had no other choice, he took a deep breath and knocked resolutely. It was far from the first time he’d come to this room, but even with the passing of years he’d not grown entirely comfortable with the position he was in, or having to come here as the bearer of bad tidings, or as a matter of political necessity. Today it was both.

He heard her call for him to enter and he did, closing the door behind him. She turned slowly from where she was standing at the window, looking out over the beautifully groomed gardens that were a part of Castle Horstberg, but known only to the few people who came here because of their position within the great fortress. Even though everything was presently covered in snow, the gardens were still beautiful.

“I thought it was you,” she said with a slight smile.

“Did you?” he asked. “How so?”

“No one knocks like the Captain of the Guard.” The words were mildly facetious, and a part of him wanted to take offense until he realized she wasn’t mocking him. It was more true that he was mocking himself, not fond of the position
or
the title. He forced a smile in response to her teasing, allowing himself for a moment to be taken back to the childhood memories he shared with her. Then he remembered his purpose and put the mask of captain firmly in place in order to state his business.

“Baron Von Bindorf is here, Your Highness.”

“What?” She turned more fully toward him, every bit as displeased as he would have expected. “Why? Is it not suitable to announce such a visit, as opposed to just . . . appearing unannounced as if he hopes to catch us at some kind of mischief?”

“I believe you have perfectly summed up the baron’s motives for occasional surprise visits, Your Highness. He wants to see His Grace; no doubt to check up on his future son-in-law and be assured that all is how he thinks it should be. The problem is that His Grace is away from the castle. The baron insists on being told where he is so that he can go seek him out, but I can’t very well tell him the possibilities, now can I.” He did not put any question in his tone.

Magda looked understandably disgusted. “No, you cannot. What
did
you tell him?”

“That he had gone riding, that the baron should know how very much the duke enjoys very long rides alone, and no one could possibly know where to find him.”

Magda sighed deeply and looked at Lance with careful eyes. “What good liars we have become under Nikolaus’s tutelage.”

Lance swallowed back bile in his throat that came in response to the comment and said fervidly, “How right you are, Your Highness. I hesitated to involve you, but I must confess that I believe your charm is the only thing that will soothe the baron’s concerns. No one in this country is in agreement with Nikolaus’s arrangement with the baron, but we all have to live with it and do our best to keep peace.” He didn’t verbalize what she already knew, that toying with the Baron of Kohenswald was a dangerous game that Nikolaus’s father had avidly avoided in order to protect his country. It was as if Nikolaus had invited a wolf to prowl among his flock of sheep for the sake of enhancing his own sense of power. There was no need to discuss this with Magda, since they had deliberated on the subject more than once already and there was nothing new to say. He chose instead to remain focused on the present symptom of Nikolaus’s senseless decisions, and deal appropriately with the wolf in order to keep him happy.

“I fear,” Lance said, “that you are the only peacekeeper that he would be prone to speaking with at the moment . . . at least until His Grace might show his face and use his wiling charms to talk himself out of yet another indiscretion.”

Magda shook her head slightly and let out a chuckle that was more sardonic than humorous. “We have not only learned to lie, we have learned how to speak treason so well to each other and make it sound normal.”

“One does what one must, Your Highness.”

“Yes,” she said, briefly checking her appearance in the mirror. “One does what one must,
Captain.”
She walked past him, clearly determined to do her duty and soothe the baron’s foul mood. But she winked at him and said softly, “I hate it when you call me
Your Highness.”
He turned to follow her down the hall while she continued to speak. “When it’s just the two of us, you should call me by my name, the way you always have.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” he said with no hint of humor.

She glanced over her shoulder at him with the hint of smile that was truly royal. That’s what he admired about her, he concluded. She could calmly and with grace and dignity smile in the face of lying and treason in order to make some little effort to keep Horstberg at peace. He wished that he could be so noble over the contradictions. And he wished that her brother had even a degree of her royal integrity. For all that she was technically admitting to dishonesty and treasonous ideas, she did it for the greater good. Her motives were pure and right. Nikolaus had no motive but serving himself and his own distorted need for power. And oh, how Lance was growing to hate him for it!

For the next three days the occupants of the mountain lodge existed in comfortable silence, while Cameron’s mind worked vigorously to find a way to bridge the chasm he’d created between himself and Abbi. He was grateful to be able to chop wood again, liking the way it eased his restlessness and opened his mind. He was managing to keep up a fair rhythm when the axe stopped in mid-swing as a thought occurred to him that left him frozen. He was barely aware of the axe falling from his hand, hitting the ground with a hard thud. As his thought took hold, he consciously recognized a choice before him. He could extinguish the idea and try to force it away as he’d been doing for months now. Or he could feed it, give it life, and take it out into the light to look at and consider.

Cameron took a deep breath and allowed the thought room to grow. Suddenly weak, he sat on the tree stump he used as a chopping block. He glanced up at the bedroom window, recalling clearly the first time he’d seen her sitting there when she’d only been here a short time. He laughed out loud as the idea coming to life inside of him settled comfortably into his every nerve, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Now that fear and pride had relented, there was room left in their absence to allow him to see the truth.

For the remainder of the day, Cameron entertained and contemplated his newfound discovery. By nightfall, he saw no choice but to share his feelings with Abbi. His fear of her reaction seemed insignificant compared to the fear of what might happen if he held something so powerful inside. When dinner was finished and the kitchen cleaned, Abbi sat at the table, leaning toward the lamp there to do some mending. He knew he’d get no better chance than this. He knew what he had to do. He’d resisted it. He’d fought it. Now it had to be faced.

He sat down across from her and clasped his hands together on the table to keep them from trembling. “Can I talk to you?” he asked.

Abbi looked up for a moment, then back to her needlework. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve asked myself that same question many times.”

Cameron shook his head and chuckled. She had a point. “Will you listen to what I have to say?” he corrected.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Cameron blew out a long breath. “Abbi,” he began awkwardly, “you know when you first came here, I was afraid of what my reactions might be.” He leaned back a little and folded one arm over the other. “After being alone for so long, I wasn’t even sure if I knew how to communicate, let alone deal with another person on a daily basis for so many months. And your being a woman—and so beautiful.”

Abbi’s hands stopped working, as if they sensed her surprise before her mind fully grasped it. She set her work aside and looked up at him. This was not what she’d expected.

Unfolding his arms, Cameron leaned forward and ran a finger down the side of his face, forcing himself to go on. “I was afraid for you. I feared my past would haunt you if you were to become involved with me. It’s all so complicated. I suppose that’s why I made up my mind to make you hate me.” He saw Abbi’s eyes begin to soften at his honesty, urging him to press forward. “I tried so hard. Oh, how I tried! But you were too perceptive—and kind—and you found things out about me that I didn’t want you to know, and you were good to me when I didn’t deserve it.”

Cameron ran both hands through his hair, staring at her and hoping the humility he felt would come through in his words. “And how could I not take notice of you . . . as a woman? I realized after you put me in my place that I’d not given myself any credit. I just couldn’t believe that after being alone for over three years, I could feel anything for you but lust. The circumstances in my life are so complicated and confusing that sometimes I don’t even understand myself. I feel like a fool when I think about my behavior, and I hope I can somehow make it up to you.”

He paused for a moment, feeling stuck. But Abbi looked at him with her big green eyes and he knew he had to get through this, however difficult it might be.

“I know it hasn’t been easy for you to have to live with me all this time, but I . . .” He pressed his lips together, momentarily thwarted. “What I really want to say . . . need to say . . . is that I just didn’t count on . . .” He paused and sighed, contemplating the feelings that had brought him to this moment. Drawing courage, he put his hands down firmly on his thighs and looked directly at her again. His words were breathy in spite of the strength behind them. “Abbi, I’m trying to tell you that . . . I love you.”

Abbi’s breath escaped her. Taking hold of the table, she stood so quickly that her chair fell over with a loud thud. Cameron glanced at the chair, and then gazed up at her with vulnerability in his eyes. She didn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected this. She had sensed it in him, even suspected it strongly. But she had never imagined that he’d admit it, however much she had wanted him to.

Cameron broke the awkward silence by continuing his confession. “I’ve tried to deny it. I’ve tried to credit it to lust or greed.” He paused and pushed his hair behind his ear. “I’ve let pride and fear distort it in my mind. I’ve tried to hide it, get rid of it—everything I could possibly think of. But it all burns down to one undeniable truth, Abbi. What I feel for you is real, and I have to acknowledge it.”

He took a moment to gauge her reaction. She looked stunned. Or was she scared? Either way, he had to finish what he’d begun. “I’ve thought it through carefully and deeply, Abbi. And I know beyond any doubt that no matter where I might have met you, I would have loved you. It’s not just the circumstances that make me feel this way. It’s
you
. It’s what you do for
me
. And I’ll say it again, without regret or reservation—I love you, Abbi.”

Cameron looked into her eyes and saw tears forming. He wondered if he had hurt her feelings. He felt as though his life was hanging in the balance, knowing he didn’t deserve to have her feel the way he so desperately wanted her to.

Abbi felt the shock begin to wear off, allowing joy and blinding relief to engulf her. It was as if every pain she had ever experienced was lifted from her and hope replaced discouragement. Seeing his uncertainty, she forced her voice past the emotions that threatened to hold it back. “Oh, Cameron,” she cried, “I’ve always loved you.”

Cameron pushed his chair back abruptly. He wanted to stand but couldn’t find the strength. It had felt so good to admit his love, to feel it burn inside of him. But oh, how he felt to have it reciprocated! He felt life surging through him. He had wanted her to love him, prayed she would love him. But he knew how hard he’d tried to make her hate him, and how cruel he had been at times. He couldn’t comprehend that she might possibly love him. But she did! He could hear it in her voice, see it in her face until his vision blurred with tears. Without standing up he held out his hand, and she hesitated only a moment before she flew into his arms. He trembled as he held her close, pressing his tears into the folds of her dress. He looked up at her standing above him, her eyes filled with light—the same light that had always been there. He’d just been too lost in his pride to see it. He laughed through his tears and urged her onto his lap, holding her as if he might die without her. He truly believed he would. They held each other and cried, until he urged her lips to his, kissing her in an attempt to express the full measure of his love. He watched as Abbi drew slowly back, opening her eyes dreamily.

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