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
“You mean I know absolutely
nothing,”
she countered and eased away.
“All in good time, Abbi. But you should know . . . yesterday in the square . . . when Cameron went to his knee . . .”
“What?” she asked when he hesitated.
“It’s never happened in the history of this country, Abbi. The Duke of Horstberg kneels to no one publicly except his religious leader, as an expression of his devotion to God. He kneels to
no one.”
“I don’t understand.”
“By kneeling before you in public, he was paying you the deepest possible homage. He was making it clear that you deserve the utmost revering and respect. Those who witnessed it were amazed. People are still talking about it.”
Abbi found the idea of being gossiped about disconcerting. While her understanding of Cameron’s devotion was touching, she found her mind more drawn to her ignorance of royal protocol, and a thousand other facets of her life that she’d never comprehended. Her thoughts wandered to the day Georg had just reminded her of, then the memory made a connection to the present.
“That day,” she said, “when you came to apologize . . . you . . .”
He went to his knees as he had done that day. She felt too stunned by the implication to protest, even though she hated the very idea of having her lifelong friend kneeling before her. “Yes, Abbi,” he said, “I knew that day. When Cameron let me know you were as good as his wife, and deserved to be treated as such, what he really meant to say . . . but couldn’t put in writing . . . was that you would be the next Duchess of Horstberg.”
Again she felt touched, but preoccupied with trying to take it all in. “Get up,” she said and he did, but it seemed more because she’d ordered him to do it as opposed to his realization of how ridiculous it was.
As if he sensed her unrest, he kissed her brow and whispered, “Everything will be all right, Your Grace.” He smiled at her and left the room, closing the door behind him. Abbi slumped onto the edge of the bed and cried.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
THE PRICE OF TYRANNY
C
ameron thoroughly enjoyed telling the baron he should be grateful to have been spared from any further association with Nikolaus du Woernig. After giving a brief summary of Nikolaus’s crimes, the forsaken bride burst into tears, and the baron attempted to get angry with Cameron. But Cameron assured the baron there was no room for such behavior in his country, and then he looked at the baron’s daughter, saying firmly, “You should get down on your knees, my dear, and thank God that you were saved from marrying a man whose evil would have destroyed your life. Find yourself a decent man and be happy.”
The baron’s anger became replaced with exaggerated friendliness as he said, “And would you be seeking out a wife now that you’ve come back, Your Grace?”
Cameron resisted the temptation to tell him where to go. Instead he offered a diplomatic smile and stated with pleasure, “I am happily married, Baron, but thank you for your inquiry. Good day.”
Cameron walked away and left them in the care of servants who would see that they were comfortable until the funeral procession. They would make their appropriate appearance before the people of Horstberg, then slither back to their own country, where he hoped they would stay.
On his way back to the bedroom, Georg stopped him in the hall, near the office.
“Could we talk for a few minutes?” he asked.
“Certainly,” Cameron said, and Georg followed him into the office where Captain Dukerk was sitting. Georg closed the door and Cameron asked, “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Georg said and sat down. “You’ve asked me to be the duke’s highest advisor. I feel the need to advise you of something. Have a seat, Your Grace.” He chuckled. “I love calling you that. It’s been too long.”
“Indeed,” Cameron said, and took a seat behind the desk—one more aspect of his life that felt so strange, and yet so familiar. “So, advise me.”
Georg met the captain’s eyes and knew their thoughts were the same. Only two days ago their lives and the future of the country had all been hanging in the balance. The outcome had been uncertain, and their plans filled with trepidation. But Georg had been presented with a miracle. He’d made a firm decision to keep Cameron ignorant until it was over. But now he needed to know.
Not certain where to start, Georg’s mind wandered back to the event, still in awe of how it had all come together. He’d walked into the stable and had stopped abruptly to see Captain Dukerk waiting.
“Captain,” he’d said casually. “What can I do for you?”
“Could we talk?” Lance asked and glanced around. “Somewhere more . . . private, perhaps.”
“I’m overdo for a break,” Georg said, trying to gauge his instincts. “I believe my wife left some coffee on the stove.”
Lance nodded and Georg led the way out the back stable door and to his home. He invited Lance to sit at the table, while he poured himself a cup of coffee. “Would you like some?” Georg asked.
“No . . . thank you.”
Georg sat across from him, holding the warm cup in his hands, wishing he had any idea what to expect.
“I understand revolution is brewing,” Lance said.
Georg managed a perfectly nonchalant chuckle. “And if it were, would you expect me to admit to knowing anything about it . . . to
you?”
“Fine, I’ll make it easy for you,” Lance said. “I don’t know whether or not Cameron is guilty of murder. Frankly, I consider that irrelevant to the present situation. Before I say any more, I just want to clarify something so that there is no question as to where I stand. I will never repeat what I know about Cameron and your involvement with him, and you will never repeat what I am about to say. Are we clear on that?”
“Impeccably clear, Captain.” He swallowed carefully. “You were saying that Cameron’s possible guilt is irrelevant to the present situation.”
“Whatever he may or may not be guilty of, Horstberg needs him.” Georg took a sharp breath and Lance looked hard into his eyes, as if to measure his response. “Are we in agreement on that?”
Georg took a slow sip of coffee. “We are.”
“What can I do to help?”
“Help?” Georg echoed, and Lance sighed loudly.
“I’m not a fool, Georg. Knowing what I know, it’s not difficult to determine that this farce of a wedding is intended as a military reclamation and dare I guess, the crowning of a new duchess? What you’re trying to accomplish is no small thing; dangerous to say the least. I know I’m in a position to make it go more smoothly. I’m offering to help.”
“You’re speaking treason, Captain Dukerk.”
“Yes, I am!” Lance said with more intensity than Georg had ever seen. “And I’ve been committing treason right and left since I lied to protect Abbi from those bloodhounds who favor Nikolaus’s power because it keeps them so comfortably rewarded. I cannot in good conscience stand by another day and watch him destroy innocent people’s lives for the sake of protecting his lifestyle. My first commitment is to Horstberg, and if it is Cameron’s intent to free her from this horrific tyranny, then I will be the first in line to pledge my commitment to serving him.”
“Even if he is guilty of murder?”
“Exactly!”
“She was your sister.”
“And this is my country. Whether he is guilty or not, Horstberg saw peace and prosperity under Cameron’s reign. Now she is a sinking ship, while Nikolaus drowns in his own poor captaining. I’ll not stand for it any longer. Tell me what I can do to help. As God is my witness, I will see Cameron protected and returned to the throne, or I will stand up to be executed by his side.”
Georg set his coffee down and folded his arms over his chest. “That’s very noble of you, Captain. But if we fail, you must remain completely without blemish, unquestionably innocent.”
“Why?”
“Abbi will need your protection more than ever, and someone to raise the child.” Lance took a deep breath and Georg went on. “Looking the other way with preoccupation over your forthcoming marriage is a great benefit in itself.”
“But surely there is more I can do and not become implicated.”
Georg stood up and began to pace. “I need to think,” he said, and took several minutes to walk his mind through every step of the carefully planned process and the chinks that caused him concern. He didn’t even have to wonder if Lance’s conviction was genuine. When a man like Captain Dukerk swore to something with God as his witness, he meant it. He finally turned toward Lance, leaned against the counter, and folded his arms over his chest. “How good are your acting skills, Captain?”
“I’ve spent years acting as if I enjoy Nikolaus’s company.”
Georg smiled. “There are certain . . . military personnel who are a cause for concern. Nikolaus’s bloodhounds, as you call them. Some are off duty tonight. Most of those will be drunk. The ones who are on duty need a special assignment. You will call them in, apologize for your disregarding of their interest in the theory of revolution brewing, give them respect for their diligence, tell them you’ve been given classified information that you have every reason to believe is related to the case, and you’re asking them to see to it personally. It’s delicate espionage, takes brains and sharpness. Feed their egos. They will need to leave the country and return at dawn with a report, which they will give to Lieutenant Joerger. Your orders will be given long before you come to spend the night here at the house. When their wild-goose chase turns up nothing, it will all be over—one way or another. You will boldly declare that you were fed false information and taken for a fool.”
“I can do that.”
“When trouble starts to stir tonight, your socializing with your fiancée will be interrupted. You will personally go nowhere near the castle as you oversee what’s taking place, and you will be impatient to return to your fiancée’s home and get some sleep before the wedding. You will be so tired from being out half the night that you will be sound asleep and have no awareness of Abbi being taken from the home very early in the company of some of your best men. She will be returned to share brunch with you before the wedding. You will behave, even toward Abbi, as if you have every reason to believe that you will be marrying her. While you may say otherwise, she will sense your belief that Cameron will not be alive to interrupt the ceremony.”
“Even though he will.”
“God willing.” Georg looked at the Captain firmly. “Now, this is the most important part. When your wedding is interrupted, it will be evident that you knew Abbi was married to Cameron du Woernig, but you truly believed he was dead. You believed her when she told you that she’d been with him long enough to exchange vows and get pregnant, but neither of you had seen him since. You will respond to the news of his return with dignity, as anyone would expect of you. But certain people will see evidence afterward that you’re deeply hurt, your pride has been wounded, your heart broken.” Lance’s expression was puzzled until Georg added harshly, “When Nikolaus returns to Horstberg to the news that his brother has taken everything from him, you will be his ally, you will feed his ego, be his friend as you never have before. Cameron murdered your sister and stole the woman you love, and you want vengeance. You will be at his side and thoroughly aware of his every move as far as it’s possible. If Cameron fails, you will remain his ally while he remains ignorant of the true paternity of the child you are raising. When the time is right, Nikolaus will be dethroned on several counts of treason, and a regent will be appointed until the child comes of age.”
“Who?”
Georg looked down. “It’s clearly stated in Cameron’s will, so that no disputes arise.”
“You?”
“No,” Georg chuckled. “Someone much more competent and capable than me. I am no one, Captain. People like me do not rule countries. But not to worry, it’s taken care of in the event that the worst happens.”
“And what if the child is female?”
“It’s not.”
“How can you know?”
“Abbi knows.”
“A dream?” Lance asked, and Georg realized Abbi had become closer to him than he’d believed. She didn’t speak of such things freely.
“That’s right.”
“So, Cameron is prepared to die.”
“Prepared to die and determined to live. We’re counting on the latter. If he succeeds, you will cover all past indiscretions with the adage that you stood first by your country, and therefore your allegiance will be to her ruler, first and foremost, because his innocence will be proven—one way or another. Until this country is firmly in Cameron’s hands, neither him nor Abbi can know anything of this conversation or your involvement—for your own protection. Even if that means temporarily alienating Abbi.”
“I understand,” Lance said, and came to his feet. “Is there anything else?”
“Pray. Pray very hard.”
Lance nodded and held out a hand toward Georg. “Thank you, my friend,” he said as Georg shook it firmly.
“Godspeed, Captain,” Georg said and watched him leave. Once alone, he slumped onto a chair and thanked God for yet another miracle. And he prayed that Lance, along with everyone else involved, would remain safe until all of this was behind them.