Behind the Mask (6 page)

Abbi arrived home to be greeted with news that the fearsome invasion had come sooner than expected. Leaving Blaze with Georg, she entered the house through a side door in an effort not to be seen before she had a chance to freshen up.

Marta met her in the hallway, looking concerned. “Miss Abbi,” she said, “your aunts have arrived and they’re waiting for you in the drawing room to have . . .” She wrinkled her nose. “They say it’s time for tea.”

Marta seemed displeased already. Like herself, Abbi knew the housekeeper didn’t want their comfortable arrangement upset by outsiders.

“I’ll hurry upstairs to freshen up. You hold them off for ten minutes.”

“Very good,” she replied. “Oh, and Miss Abbi?”

“Yes, Marta?”

She whispered cautiously, “I do hope you aren’t going to let things change too much around here.”

“I’ll certainly do my best,” Abbi assured her. But Marta didn’t seem convinced, which made Abbi wonder exactly what these ladies were like.

Beyond the fact that they were her mother’s aunts, Abbi knew little about them. Salina, the younger of the two, had never married, while Ramona had been married briefly, but later in life. Neither had ever borne children. The two were apparently inseparable, and even through Ramona’s brief marriage, Salina had lived nearby. The sisters had first come to Horstberg when their favorite niece, LeeAnna, had married Gerhard Albrecht. They had visited LeeAnna frequently, and together had developed a passion for the culture as well as a fluency with the language. During a visit soon after Abbi’s mother died, Ramona had met and married a local man who had been a widower for some years. He’d died four years later, after which Ramona had returned to England with his name and a good portion of his money, leaving her two stepchildren behind since they were old enough to be on their own. Abbi doubted the sisters had been back since, except for one visit some years ago. She had a vague recollection of them stopping by one afternoon to see how their niece’s daughter was coming along; but it had been years, and she had no distinct memory of either of them.

Abbi’s attempt to freshen up before facing the invasion proved futile. Approaching the stairs, she was met by a slightly plump, middle-aged woman who nearly collided with her.

“You must be Abbi,” she chirped, squinting carefully. Before Abbi could respond, she was led by the hand into the drawing room. “Look, Ramona,” she squealed, “here she is at last. Can you believe it? She has her mother’s hair.”

“Indeed.” The woman who was apparently Ramona sat holding a teacup. “But her mother at least wore it up like a lady.”

“I’ve been riding,” Abbi apologized, “and didn’t have a chance to freshen up.” She regretted her words as soon as she’d uttered them. There was no reason to justify her appearance to anyone. Abbi had never worn her hair up a day in her life, and she had no intention of starting now.

Hoping to get off to a better start, she crossed the room and took Ramona’s hand. “You must be Aunt Ramona.”

“Yes,” the woman said with a smile. Beyond their identical hair color, which was a dark auburn streaked with gray, the two sisters looked nothing alike. Ramona was thin with a long face, and her sister Salina, who was still holding Abbi’s hand, was shorter and bore no apparent resemblance to her whatsoever.

“And this is my sister, Salina Eddington,” Ramona stated.

“I’m so very pleased to meet you.” Salina sat cheerfully on the sofa and pulled Abbi down next to her. “It was so exciting to get the news. I mean we were certainly sorry to hear of Josef’s death, but the opportunity to come to Bavaria. Oh, it’s wonderful! We’ve always loved it here and have talked of coming back. Thankfully we’ve kept up the language between the two of us. Somewhat of a hobby, I suppose. We were so impatient to get here, and certainly pleased that we arrived in time for tea. Weren’t you pleased, Ramona?”

“Pleased. Yes, pleased,” her sister said without expression.

“I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.” Salina pushed a teacup into Abbi’s hand, which she simply held, pretending to sip. Abbi detested tea. “You’ve grown into such a beauty,” Salina continued. “You’ve got your mother’s hair exactly, I believe. Although she never did, uh . . . wear it quite like that, the dark red color is the same. And those green eyes. It’s unreal how you’ve got your mother’s eyes. Isn’t it unreal, Ramona?”

“Yes, unreal.” Ramona gazed at Abbi with overt interest. “She’s certainly built like her mother; so petite and . . . well, yes that’s the word, petite. But I believe her features very much belong to her father.”

“I can certainly see Gerhard in the face.” Salina squinted at Abbi as if she couldn’t quite see. “But she has her mother’s complexion.”

Abbi felt uncomfortable being scrutinized, knowing she looked far from her best. But she just smiled politely, pretending to drink her tea.

“Riding,” Ramona said. “You say you’ve been riding?”

At last Abbi could be a part of the conversation instead of the subject. “Yes, I ride often. It’s my favorite pastime.”

“But surely you wear a habit to ride.” Ramona looked down her long nose with disapproval.

Abbi reminded herself not to apologize. “I rarely wear a habit,” she said with conviction. “I ride often enough that I would be living in a riding habit. I generally ride in whatever I happen to be wearing.”

“I assume your dress is conservative because of your mourning?” Ramona questioned, glaring at Abbi’s simple gray frock with a touch of black piping as its only adornment. “It certainly is conservative.”

“The color is dark because of mourning, but I prefer conservative clothing. It suits my lifestyle.”

“I see. Yes, I see,” Ramona said as if she didn’t at all approve of a lifestyle that allowed a young lady to dress so casually.

After another scrutinizing stare Ramona commented, “I didn’t realize fashion was so outdated in Germany, or perhaps Horstberg is just so remote that the latest styles are, well . . . I just didn’t realize.”

Apparently oblivious to Ramona’s implication toward Abbi, Salina interjected, “But the ladies we saw in town certainly appeared every bit as fashionable as those in England.”

Abbi glanced down at her dress. Like most of the clothes she owned, it had been custom-made according to her preferences. The cut of the bodice certainly was fashionable, as was the high waist. She felt certain Ramona’s indirect criticism was in reference to the yards of fabric gathered into the waistline, which allowed her room to straddle a horse comfortably without being immodest. From what Abbi had observed in town, most ladies wore skirts so straight it was difficult to know how they could even manage to walk in them.

Abbi glanced back up at her aunts, reminding herself that she had not been directly criticized, and she should not take offense simply from subtle implications. She no sooner thought it than Ramona added, “Our first order of business must be to get you into town, my dear Abbi, and procure you a fashionable and appropriate wardrobe.” She shook her head slightly. “We must get you into town.”

Abbi fought the urge to get angry. There was nothing subtle about that. “I have a perfectly adequate wardrobe,” she insisted. “Thank you, anyway.”

Salina cleared her throat as if the irritating noise might ease the thickening tension. “Well,” she said, and Abbi hoped she would change the topic of conversation, “Ramona was thrilled to have an opportunity to come here, because she hasn’t seen her stepson since he came to England nearly three years ago. Has it really been that long, sister?”

“Three years, yes, nearly three years. Well now, let me see,” she paused thoughtfully, “I guess he came soon after the funeral, but he did stay a few weeks. He certainly needed the time away. Yes, it’s been three years.”

“And it was right after that when he came to his current position,” Salina said more to her sister. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Ramona agreed.

“We must notify Lance at once that we’ve arrived so we can see him. He is such a nice young man.”

“Indeed,” Ramona smiled. “Yes, indeed. Perhaps you might like him, Abbi my dear. He is nice looking—and unmarried. I’ll look forward to introducing the two of you. Yes, he is nice looking.”

“That would be fine,” Abbi lied. She didn’t care. Perhaps a desire to meet available men would come eventually, but she was content for now with the life she had.

“You must excuse me,” Abbi added, setting her full teacup down as she stood. “There are some things I need to attend to. It was very nice seeing both of you, and I’m certain we’ll have plenty of time to get further acquainted.”

“Plenty of time. Yes, plenty of time.” Ramona smiled up at Abbi as if her previous criticism had not taken place.

“Now don’t mind us,” Salina said, squinting again. “That dear housekeeper of yours . . . what was her name? Oh yes, Marta. Dear Marta. Sweet woman. She’s already shown us our rooms. We’ll acquaint ourselves. You just go about your business, my dear, and you’ll hardly know we’re here.”

Abbi knew their presence would hardly go unnoticed, but she smiled. “I’ll see you at dinner, then.”

Motivated by a desperate need for fresh air, Abbi returned to the stables. Knowing Georg had gone into town, she saddled Blaze herself and set out, needing the solace that riding offered—even if she wasn’t wearing a habit, she thought wryly.

“What do you think of your aunts?” Elsa asked while she brushed through Abbi’s hair.

“I’d rather not say,” she replied tersely. They’d been at the estate less than a week, and already Abbi felt stifled by their presence. Going into town with them to order new clothes had been one of the worst experiences of her life.

Elsa’s reflection in the mirror disclosed a knowing smile. Abbi appreciated, as always, the understanding they shared. Elsa was a pretty girl, slim with fine features, and not much older than Abbi. She was faithful and competent as a lady’s maid, but more than anything Abbi appreciated her companionship.

“I hope you don’t mind my saying,” Elsa continued, “but the house has a different mood already.”

“I don’t mind,” Abbi said, “because I have to agree. But we’ll do our best to be polite and keep friction to a minimum. I would rather put up with a few inconveniences than have them making life more difficult for me. You do understand.”

“Of course,” Elsa replied. “You know what’s best, Miss Abbi. They seem nice enough. I only fear they’ve tried to bring England with them.”

Abbi laughed. “I daresay you’re right. Suddenly tea is a ritual around here. I hate tea.”

Elsa shuddered, mocking a wave of nausea, and Abbi laughed.

“It’s not so bad having them here, I suppose,” Abbi conceded. “There are moments when I actually like them, as long as I keep to my duties and do a great deal of riding.”

Elsa giggled. “I’ve noticed you’re not too concerned if you miss tea time.”

“Not in the least,” Abbi agreed and they laughed together.

The following day Ramona informed Abbi at breakfast that she had received a message from her stepson, stating that he would come to dinner and bring a friend along. Salina chirped with excitement while Ramona’s pleasure was evident. Abbi felt indifferent to the whole affair until Ramona insisted that she present herself as a lady for the occasion.

“Are you implying,” Abbi snapped, “that I am not a lady?”

“I’m certain,” Ramona glared down her long nose, “that you are capable of being a lady. It’s no fault of yours that you weren’t raised with the proper influence.”

“There is nothing wrong with the influence I was raised with,” Abbi persisted boldly. “I can be as much of a lady as anyone else.”

“Well,” Ramona continued with satisfaction, “I’m glad you see it that way. Quite glad. Since Lance and his friend are coming for dinner, you won’t mind wearing your hair up properly.”

Abbi felt cornered. She had meant to prove a point and had been coerced into proving Ramona’s instead. Her frustration left her silent and she quickly went to meet with Mr. Logen, grateful for a distraction to push away her anger. But after their meeting was concluded, she couldn’t force her indignation out of her head. Abbi knew she couldn’t bear living this way until she turned twenty-one. The only other option was to marry.

The prospect of marriage had never been a prominent concern for Abbi. In fact, it had hardly crossed her mind. But surely it couldn’t be so difficult to find a husband. And now she’d found a marvelous incentive. Deciding the time had come to start looking for the right man, she took great pains with her appearance.

Elsa was putting the finishing touches on Abbi’s hair when Salina came timidly into the room. “Are you nearly ready, dear?”

“I’m ready,” Abbi replied. “But if you ask me, I look ridiculous with my hair like this.”

Elsa smiled wryly.

“Nonsense,” Salina protested, squinting to examine Abbi’s hair more closely. “I think it looks lovely. You’re just not used to it. Now you must hurry along. Our guests have arrived, and if Ramona’s plan succeeds, they may prove to be very special guests indeed.”

“What plan?” Abbi demanded.

“I shouldn’t say anything,” she whispered with a look of conspiracy that indicated she had every intention of divulging all she could get away with. “But Ramona has told me that she hopes you and her stepson will marry.”