When Honor Means More Than Anything To A Man, Can He Sacrifice His Honor For Love?
Captain Lance Dukerk has no doubt that the only woman he ever loved married the right man—even though that man wasn’t him. Yet he longs to have that kind of love in his life and is growing weary of being known as the most eligible bachelor in Horstberg’s military force.
When poverty-stricken Nadine Rader arrives at Castle Horstberg, insisting that her young daughter is the legitimate child of the duke, it becomes increasingly evident that the deceased ruler Nikolaus du Woernig left a torrent of disillusionment and heartache in his wake. Inexplicably drawn to Nadine, Lance takes personal charge of seeing that her needs are met as she attempts to piece her life back together. Their mutual attraction quickly merges into something profound, until Nadine discovers that Lance’s connections to Nikolaus go far deeper than she’d ever imagined, and her budding trust in Lance shatters.
Nadine’s life becomes more troubling as women who fit her description are brutally murdered, and neither she nor Lance are prepared to face startling evidence that widens the chasm of mistrust between them. While Nadine fights to stay alive, Lance relentlessly tracks the monster responsible for these horrendous crimes, hoping he’ll be in time to protect the one woman he knows he can never live without.Show more Show less
Read sample chapterPrologue
Bavaria––1820
Abbi du Woernig came awake abruptly, gasping for breath. In the darkness she felt her husband’s arms come around her and she clung to him, grateful to have Cameron near while she attempted to calm down and think rationally.
“A dream?” he asked close to her ear. He was well aware of her gift of dreams. Throughout her life she’d occasionally experienced dreams that had, without question, been premonitory, as their content had come to pass at some subsequent time. In fact, a dream had led her to Cameron and had put her in a position to help guide him to the determination he needed to take back the country he ruled from hands that were destroying it. To the people of Horstberg, these happenings were practically legend, even if they knew nothing about the dreams that had prompted such miraculous events. For Abbi, they were tender and personal memories, and one of many reasons she had learned to respect the messages of her dreams.
“Yes,” she said, “but I’ve never had such a . . . horrible dream. It was a nightmare, in truth.”
“A nightmare?” Cameron asked, his voice low and husky. “Just a bad dream, or does it have meaning, Abbi? How did it make you feel?”
She groaned in response to the question and clung to him more tightly. “I feel as if it will come to pass. I’ve never felt it any more strongly than I do now.”
“Tell me,” he prodded gently. “You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”
“I saw a woman . . . murdered,” she said and heard Cameron draw a sharp breath.
“There hasn’t been a murder in Horstberg since my first wife was killed,” he said, his astonishment evident.
“I know,” she said sadly.
“Did you see who it was? Who did it?”
“No. I could only see the victim, and her face was obscured.” Tears came with her clarification. “She was dressed simply, like a common woman. As a woman would dress who worked at a pub, perhaps, except that she had a white silk scarf around her neck; a very lovely scarf that did not go at all with her attire. Her hair was dark blond and curly. She was . . . near my age, I would guess, perhaps just a little older—early to mid-twenties. She was stabbed through the heart with a dagger; the dagger had a carved, ivory handle. And that’s all I saw.”
Cameron pressed his lips into her hair and muttered gently, “It’s going to be all right, Abbi.”
“How can it be all right for a woman to be murdered? Is this meant to be some kind of warning? Am I expected to protect a woman that I can’t even identify?”
Cameron leaned up on one elbow and remained thoughtfully silent. Abbi could feel his compassion and concern, but she knew he didn’t have the answers any more than she did. She touched his dark hair and then his face. He put a hand over hers, holding it there a long moment. He then touched her face in return, saying, “Abbi . . . I believe that sometimes . . . there are things that simply happen, and there’s nothing we can do to prevent them, however tragic they may be. Perhaps your dream is more for the purpose of being prepared.”
Abbi had to admit that felt right, but it didn’t erase her anxiety. She had to ask, “For who to be prepared, Cameron? And how?”
“I don’t know, Abbi. We just have to go on and be aware, and perhaps the answers will come.”
Abbi knew he was right, but she had trouble going back to sleep, and when she did the dream recurred. She rose early and went to the window, looking out over the valley below. She wondered what unsuspecting woman might be destined for this horrible fate. The sun was barely showing itself when Abbi noticed a sleigh being harnessed in the courtyard below. Elsa would be leaving soon and the thought darkened Abbi’s mood further. Elsa was her lady’s maid and dearest friend, and Abbi wasn’t certain how she would manage without Elsa while she traveled far to care for an ailing aunt. They had exchanged farewells before going to bed, but she felt an added sadness as she watched Elsa attempting to say goodbye to her husband before she finally got into the sleigh and it disappeared through the castle gate.
Abbi stood as she was until the sun came up, and she couldn’t deny that it was a beautiful day. It had been snowing almost nonstop for days, but now the sun had appeared and the world was brilliantly white. If only she could free herself from her heavy thoughts. Thinking it through, she knew that she had to free herself of them in order to do all that was required of her. If she went about her day melancholy and distracted, people would be concerned and question her. And she had no desire to discuss her feelings with anyone except her husband.
Abbi went to the wardrobe to find an appropriate dress. What she needed was a distraction, and getting started on her Christmas shopping seemed the perfect way to go about it.