Behind the Mask by Elizabeth D. Michaels Page B

very much like the devil, charming victims with his subtle lies. Panic engulfed Abbi as she realized how close she had come to falling into his snare. Wondering how many other women Nikolaus had toyed with, she felt tangibly nauseated to think of how he’d kissed her—and how eagerly she had allowed it. Oh, she was such a fool! She understood now why Papa had kept her secluded from the world. At this moment, however wrong it might be, she far preferred his loving protection over the pain and humiliation she was now feeling.
    Wondering about the poor little princess who was doomed to spend the rest of her life with the philandering Duke of Horstberg, Abbi hurried toward the stables, pausing only a moment to look across the valley at Castle Horstberg sitting magnificently against the mountain. If not for Lena and Magda, Abbi would have hoped never to return there.
    Consumed with anger and humiliation, Abbi mounted Blaze without a saddle. By his own will the stallion echoed across the covered bridge and flew through the narrow path between the trees leading up the mountainside. The climb was steep and hard, but Blaze knew the trail well and galloped at a dangerous pace. The air had a biting chill to it that had not been present earlier in the day, but once they reached the open meadow, the briskness freshened Abbi’s senses, making her shattered delusion almost bearable.
    Abbi slowed Blaze to an easy canter while she took in her surroundings. No matter how many times she came here, the beauty and serenity never ceased to affect her. But the atmosphere felt different than it had only hours ago. The sky had clouded over, and in her absence the wind had been working hard to dress the scenery for a change of season. Now, on the brink of winter, the oak and beech trees along the plateau ridge stood like skeletons against a gray horizon as the wind blew their few remaining leaves away. That same wind brushed along the ground, pushing before it a vast carpet of crisp leaves. The scent of pine and fir trees rose distinctly through the air.
    Abbi wasn’t surprised when Blaze broke into a gallop toward the bottom of the ridge. She relished his willfulness as the dead leaves crackled and popped beneath the heavy trod of his hooves. He seemed even more troubled than he had earlier, and it took great effort for Abbi to control him as he played his game below the rock wall. While she wanted to believe that Blaze understood her torment over the situation, she had to conclude that he was probably remembering the mares beyond the ridge that he’d been flirting with . Recalling how the bearded man had put it, she laughed softly.
    “Sorry, Blaze,” Abbi said. “I don’t think it’s meant to be.”
    With little warning it started to rain, which didn’t seem to discourage the crows that were hovering in the trees above her, but Abbi knew she must return home. The clouds were dark and heavy, and with November approaching she knew the rain was likely to turn to snow. Blaze resisted her efforts to leave the meadow, but he relented more easily than he had earlier, perhaps motivated by the foul weather. By the time they reached the stable, the rain had turned to sleet and Abbi was soaked to the skin.
    Georg glared at her as she dismounted. “What are you doing riding in this kind of weather?” he scolded. “I go to the pub and you run off without even a saddle.”
    “It wasn’t storming when I left,” Abbi protested, “and I was in a hurry.” She smiled gratefully at him, knowing he was only concerned for her welfare.
    Georg took Blaze by the reins and motioned Abbi out the door. “Now get yourself into the house,” he ordered, “and out of those wet clothes before you freeze to death.”
    “I hardly think that’s possible.”
    “Don’t take it too lightly,” Georg said. “It almost happened to me once.”
    “Really?” Abbi said, her curiosity aroused.
    “I’ll tell you about it some other time.” He smiled. “You get