The coming Convocation would be the greatest challenge. There hadn’t been a meeting of the werewolves since his accident. The others must have no doubt at all that he was still leader. Still the strongest. Still the one to guide the Cause to ultimate success.
After a while he rose and summoned Aynsley, to whom he gave explicit instructions regarding the coachman and footmen who were to accompany Lady Rowena and Miss Holt on a shopping trip to Bond Street. Rowena would be given no chance to slip away. And the impressionable Cassidy would be shepherded from one shop to another in minimal contact with the chaos that was London during the Season.
Soon enough they’d all be far from here. Safe, at Greyburn, where there were no temptations to lure and debase. He’d sensed the shock and excitement of the ladies and gentlemen at Lady Beatrices party last night, felt their stares like so many loosed arrows, heard their whispers. Once he’d walked among them, for Milena’s sake. Did the rumors surrounding Milena’s death make him an object of dread and loathing? So be it. He welcomed his reputation. Let the humans avoid him. And let the other loups-garous of England and Europe beware.
He went upstairs for a few words with Telford, then set about arranging certain business matters that needed attention before he left London. The Greyburn Forster fortune continued to grow because he, like his ancestors, was unashamed of the taint of commercial income.
He knew when Rowena and Isabelle and Cassidy left the house, two hours after breakfast. He continued to work until he could no longer concentrate, and then took his accustomed place in the library to wait.
Much later that afternoon there was a stir at the front door. Braden rose with a rare frisson of anticipation, assuming the ladies’ return. His inner picture of Cassidy, formed by touch and Telford’s description, could not quite be reconciled with the image of a bustled gown and a host of women’s furbelows. Would she lose that scent of desert and wildflowers forever?
But she had not lost it. It preceded her as she and Rowena marched into the house, trailed by package-laden footmen…
And someone else, a man whose laughter rang in the hall as if all the world were one great, satirical joke.
Quentin.
Braden walked into the hall. Rowena was quiet enough; her very silence held bitterness. Quentin’s laughter came to a sudden halt.
“Greyburn,” Cassidy said, her young voice strained with the fatigue of too much excitement. “We bought so many clothes. And when we were coming back, we met your brother—”
“Quentin,” Braden said. “How was Paris?”
“Amusing, as always. Never fear, I found time to carry out your little errands. But what has happened in my absence, Grey? I find that we have not one but two lovely ladies in residence, and one of them a charming and exotic stranger from a faraway land.”
Cassidy gave a husky laugh. Braden stiffened. “Rowena, perhaps you and the ladies would care to rest before dinner.”
Rowena took his cue readily enough. Cassidy’s curiosity was as evident to Braden as her unique scent, but she allowed herself to be herded upstairs by her cousin, the scuffing of her shoes betraying her reluctance. Different shoes, he noted—not the ungainly ones she’d worn when she arrived. Rowena had indeed seen to the necessities, as he’d known she would.
“Your timing is excellent, Quentin,” Braden said, gesturing his brother into the library. “We are to leave for Greyburn within the next few days.”
Quentin threw himself into a chair. “Such a warm welcome. Have you anything to drink? No, of course not. Yes, yes, I know—a filthy human habit, but one does acquire a taste.”
“Kindly try not to poison yourself just yet,” Braden said.
“Ah. I surmise that you have plans for me, brother. Dare I inquire? Or should I flee to China while I have the chance?”
“You won’t run, Quentin.”
“How well you know me, brother. Running requires far too much effort.” The chair creaked as he settled deeper. “But before the unpleasant truths unfold, tell me about our fair cousin. Rowena told me she’s the long-lost granddaughter of Great-Uncle William. A virtual savage, from Rowena’s description. I thought she looked rather fetching in that plain little dress.”