He trembled, not from his injuries but from the grief and self-loathing that threatened to consume him. It was the very same hatred his mother was seemingly encouraging.
“I know,” he continued. “I froze. I did not move fast enough. I?—”
“You did not move at all.” Her voice rose to a scream, the anguish in it echoing across the estate. “And now, your father is gone. He is gone because of you. Everything—everything that mattered to me is gone!”
Cassian’s chest heaved, the truth of her words hitting him hard. He wanted to argue, to tell her that it had not been entirely his fault, that the fire itself had been unstoppable, that he was only a boy, something they reminded him of every day, but no words came. There was only silence, which was broken by the sound of his mother’s ragged sobs.
“I trusted you to act, and you failed. You let him die.”
Cassian had nothing to say. Immense guilt coiled in his chest, along with something else. It was dread, and even then, he knew that it would never leave him.
He had gotten what he wanted, even though he had never truly considered the fact that in order to become duke, he would have to lose his father.
He did not want to lose him. He was not ready for that, and he knew that he never would be. His selfish desire for the title left him, and as it did, he felt his knees give way.
He woke up a short while later to his mother whispering to their housekeeper.
“Will he be all right?”
“He must be. The duchy needs a leader, which means we need him.”
“Your Grace, you are allowed to be upset that your son?—”
“I have no son,” his mother said coldly. “I lost a husband and a son that night.”
“But Your Grace, he is but a boy.”
“A boy who wanted this. That is why he did nothing. He watched his own father die simply because he wanted the title. He is despicable.”
“You are hurting. You do not mean any of this, and with time?—”
“Mrs. Johnson, if you insist on arguing with me, I will not hesitate to also lose a housekeeper.”
Cassian remained still, not wanting his mother to know that he had heard her. He wanted to believe that she did not mean what she was saying, but a part of him knew that she did. He knew that he was a difficult son, and not even half the man his father was, but he had hoped that he might one day earn her respect.
But now, she could not even look at him.
“At least the fire did not touch his face,” his mother grumbled. “Whichever unfortunate lady becomes his wife will not have to look upon any disfigurement.”
They left the room, and once he was certain he was alone, he rose to his feet and took off his shirt. He stared down at the healing burns, and winced as he traced his fingers over the leathery skin. It did not hurt. Rather, he just could not bring himself to accept that that was how he would look from that moment on.
But his mother was wrong. He was determined to never take a wife, to never saddle an unsuspecting lady with a coward such as himself. The line would die with him, and the last memory of hisfamily would be the great man followed by the worst. It would be his penance for what he had done, and he was willing to accept such a fate.
Except that was not what happened. Instead, he heard the rumors that he had murdered his father in cold blood, and after trembling at the thought of it, he decided to be the villain they all saw him as.
He would be terrifying, so much so that nobody would dare look beneath his façade. He was a recluse, confining himself to his prison with his hateful mother, and he was content.
But then he met Adelaide, and she was determined to do what no other person had. She wanted to get to know him, to see who he truly was, regardless of what she found.
And that, he knew, was the greatest mistake she would ever make.
CHAPTER 26
When Cassian finished, Adelaide’s chest suddenly felt tight.
It all made sense in a way she had so desperately wanted. He had been rebellious before, desperate to make his own way in the world, and it had ended in tragedy.
And yet, now that she understood the truth, it was almost unbearable. She thought of the boy he must have been, terrified and frozen, the fire roaring around him, his father trapped, his mother pleading. He had carried the burden of his father’s death all that time, and even then, he had thought he was culpable.
