Behind the Mask by Elizabeth D. Michaels Page B

said without expression, and Abbi sensed he was having some difficulty mustering up the courage to speak, “but my friend’s advances have left me little choice.”
    “What do you mean?” she asked.
    “I mean that if I don’t make a claim on you now, I might not get one.” He paused and looked skyward. “My stepmother has made it clear how delighted she would be if . . .” He cleared his throat. “. . . If you and I were to marry, and I . . . what I’m trying to say is that I don’t think it’s such a bad idea, and rather than going on pretenses, I wanted to tell you straight out that I’m interested in the possibility, and would hope you’d consider it.”
    “Lance,” Abbi almost giggled at the thought of two marriage proposals in one night, “it’s so soon. I barely know you.”
    “I’m aware of that,” he replied. “I’m not suggesting we marry tomorrow. I only ask that you keep me in mind. I simply wanted to verbalize the situation. Knowing what Ramona is up to, I didn’t want any uneasiness between us. She means well, but she can be a bit . . . zealous.”
    “Yes,” Abbi laughed softly, “I know what you mean.” Still preoccupied with Nikolaus’s kiss, she added, “Let’s give it time.”
    Lance seemed pleased with her answer, and Abbi had to admit that she appreciated his straightforward manner—though she already felt her heart being lost elsewhere, and she hoped it would not be long until she had the opportunity to see Nikolaus du Woernig again.

    That night Abbi dreamed of the man on the mountain. It wasn’t clear and distinct like the dream that had led her to him, but rather filled with vague images of his face, his voice, his presence—and how they had affected her. She woke feeling just as she had following that first dream: so overcome with indescribable emotion that she could hardly move. She’d barely thought about him the last few weeks, when thoughts of him had seemed so fruitless. But now he had intruded upon her awakening feelings for Nikolaus du Woernig. And she resented it.
    Through the following days, her thoughts were constantly invaded by this man on the mountain whom she knew nothing about. She searched for distraction in any way possible without success—until an invitation arrived from Lance, asking that she attend a social with him to be held at Castle Horstberg. Getting caught up in the preparations for her first social event, Abbi forced thoughts of the mysterious man out of her head. She reminded herself that he was nothing more than some ill-tempered recluse. And tomorrow evening she would be dancing with the Duke of Horstberg.

Chapter Three
    THE CAPTAIN AND THE DUKE

    A bbi had a perfect view of Castle Horstberg from an upper window of Albrecht House. As long as she could remember, she had admired the imposing edifice, perched on a lofty hill at the far side of the valley. She had often stopped to admire the castle, but never had she imagined the magnificent structure rising before her now.
    “Oh Lance,” she gasped, nearly leaning out the carriage window as it wound carefully up the hillside, “it’s magnificent. Nikolaus really lives here?”
    “He really does,” Lance replied dryly.
    “But you do too, of course,” she said, trying to remember herself and remain polite.
    “Yes,” he said. “When we get into the courtyard you’ll see that the barracks for the Guard are to the right, behind the keep, which is where my offices are, but I live in an apartment in the complex to the left at the far end of the courtyard.”
    “I can’t believe how long it’s taken us to get here,” she added. “It’s so massive. I suppose I always thought it was closer.”
    “It is big,” Lance muttered.
    “I do appreciate your asking me along,” she said warmly. “It’s so exciting for me.”
    “It’s only a little social, Abbi.” He smiled. “Though I am pleased to have you with me.”
    Abbi turned again to the window, not wanting to betray