Cassidy tried to imagine Braden allowing anyone to treat him the way Milena had. He must have loved her greatly—and she’d betrayed him. She’d hurt him and his standing among the werewolves. The betrayal would be devastating beyond endurance, for Braden couldn’t separate himself from the Cause. He was worth nothing to himself without it.
“Lord Greyburn learned not long after her return that she was with child.” Telford said. “He believed that it was his. But she demanded that he set her free, and when he refused, she told him that the child was her human lover’s.” Telford’s voice dropped very low. “The revelation drove the earl half-mad, yet even then he did not punish her. Milena convinced all Greyburn, even his own sister, that he was tormenting and abusing his wife while she carried his child. The earl would say or do nothing to refute her stories. It was his only way of proving himself strong and unassailable, to let himself seem ruthless and unfeeling.”
So that was why Rowena feared her brother, and his plans for her, so deeply. She had learned to hate her brother because of Milena’s lies. And he hadn’t even tried to change her mind.
“Lord Greyburn watched his wife growing with her lover’s child, and she never let him forget it. Then, very near her time, her lover came in secret to set her free. Lord Greyburn pursued them across country. The lovers managed to get as far south as Hadrians Wall before the earl discovered them.”
“The accident that blinded him,” Cassidy said with a flash of insight. “That was when it happened—”
“Yes.” But Telford’s flow of words stopped like a spring gone suddenly dry.
“How?” Cassidy asked, her throat very tight.
“Only two people know, my lady—the earl and his brother. I learned the rest from Quentin Forster afterward.”
“But Quentin told me he was out of the country.”
“Nevertheless, he was there. He alone witnessed a part of what happened that stormy night, and he would not speak of anything beyond what I have told you. But the earl did not regain his vision.
“Milena was injured when he brought her back. She didn’t survive more than a handful of days.”
Because she’d “fallen.” But had it truly been an accident?
“Milena survived long enough to bring her child into the world, but she died soon after.”
“Mikhail,” Cassidy whispered.
“The earl had no wish to keep Milena’s child. He told the Boroskovs and the household at Greyburn that the babe was dead, and secretly sent it to be raised by a good family in Scotland. But the Boroskovs must have learned the truth, and stole the child away to Russia. Lord Greyburn never knew.”
Cassidy sat down on the road, heedless of the mire and stones. Now she realized why Braden couldn’t tolerate any disagreement or hint of rebellion from those under him or any vulnerability in himself. Now she knew why he’d acted as he had toward Rowena, John Dodd—even Isabelle, who reminded him of a wife who’d given herself to many men. Why he hadn’t wanted Mikhail.
And why he cut himself off from any possibility of loving again.
Yet he’d shown mercy to Dodd:—he’d gone out of his way to help the former footman. He’d allowed Isabelle to stay, when he must have despised her. And he’d promised to consider bringing Mikhail back to Greyburn.
But Milena had died, and no one but Braden and Quentin knew how.
“Do you think,” she said, “do you believe that Braden could have… that he did something to…” She couldn’t finish, but Telford understood.
“I do not know, my lady,” he said grimly. “I do not know. But when the rumors started, spread perhaps by Milena’s lover, he refused to speak against them.”
And so he’d been judged, and found guilty. “Thank you,” she said softly, looking up at Telford. “Thank you for telling me.” She glanced at the wagon. “You shouldn’t keep them waiting any longer.”
“I do not like leaving you here alone, my lady,” he said. It was typical of Telford that he didn’t speak of her returning to Greyburn. He respected her, as she respected him. He trusted her to make her own decisions, her own choices.