Forever My Love(70)

"Carr has never cared for the London scene. He has always preferred to stay in the country and engage in scholarly pursuits," Alec said, frowning darkly. "Until now."

"Don't hold that against him," Melbourne advised mildly. "He has come to the age when all young men want to experience the temptations of life: women, gaming—"

"I think his reasons for moving to London are more complicated than that," Alec said, thinking of Carr's cold, shattered young face as Holt's body had been lowered into the grave, the trip aboard that paralleled the trip that Holt himself had taken at twenty-two, the gradual change in Carr's behavior from his natural quietness to an irrepressible recklessness. Holt's reck­lessness. "I'm afraid that Carr is trying to fill his brother's shoes."

"Consciously?"

"I don't know." Alec admitted, his shoulders tens­ing at the sound of Carr's laughter. Carr sounded too damned much like Holt. And when he cavorted and played pranks with that lopsided grin, he reminded Alec so much of a younger Holt that it caused a suffocating mixture of pain and anger to surge inside him.

As a boy, Carr had always been a sly creature, the darling of the family with his big green eyes and en­chanting smile, a stealthy little prankster with the face of an angel. Many a time Holt and Alec had found their plans ruined and their secrets revealed because of Carr's habit of eavesdropping and telling tales. As they had all grown up, Carr had turned into something of a scholar—little surprise in that, considering his remarkable memory and his ability to repeat every­thing he overheard. Now they were boys no longer, but Alec remembered how devious, how untrustworthy Holt's younger brother had been, and he doubted that Carr had changed much. And if there was one kind of man Alec hated, it was an untrustworthy one.

"He's coming this way—it's clear that he intends to speak to you," Melbourne said, and Alec's mouth quirked in a cryptic half-smile.

"I wonder why." God knew they'd had nothing to say to each other for years, not even at Holt's funeral.

"Hello, Alec," Carr said as he stopped in front of them, shaking hands with a sturdy grip.

After brief introductions were made, Melbourne took a step back and regarded them uneasily. "I must dance with my wife before I earn her disfavor with my inat­tention," he said, looking from one Falkner to the other with unconcealed amusement. "Good to have met you," he said to Carr, then turned to Alec with a wry smile and a nod. "My best wishes."

"My thanks," Alec said, his eyes resting thought­fully on Melbourne as he left, knowing why that gen­tleman had been so perturbed. There were more than a few physical similarities between Alec and Carr, for they both possessed an abundance of Falkner traits. Like Alec, Carr had jet-black hair, strongly marked brows, a slight golden cast to his skin, brutally molded cheekbones, and an unyielding jaw. But Carr's eyes were dark green instead of wintry gray, and Carr was shorter and slighter. His appearance spoke more of graceful elegance than of Alec's solid power. "Dressed like a swell," Alec commented, his gaze missing no detail of his cousin's new and fashionably altered ap­pearance. The unruly black locks had been shorn to a shining, immaculately trimmed crop, while his clothes of black, white, and buff were arranged to perfection. Quite different from the tumbled youth who had pored over piles of books.

"I should hope so," Carr drawled, affecting a dan­dyish accent. "But this deuced getup cost me a sweet fortune, don't you know." "How was your journey?" Alec inquired flatly, and Carr sobered immediately.

"Pleasant. No, just tolerable." His dark green eyes met Alec's, and a brief flash of desperation illumi­nated Carr's gaze. "Bloody awful," he said. "I have to talk with you."

"Talk your problems out with someone else," Alec said softly. "You know as well as I that we don't get along well with each other… and furthermore, I'm not generally regarded as the compassionate one in the family—"

"No, you're not," Carr interrupted, his expression twisting in self-doubt, as if he wondered why he had approached his cousin in the first place. "But you're the only one who'll understand."

Conscious of the many pairs of eyes on them, Alec hesitated and then nodded slightly. "If you're willing to risk the possibility of eavesdroppers."

"No one is close enough to hear," Carr said, his glance flickering around the room and then returning to Alec's face.

"Go on, then."

"The trip was miserable. With all the sights and sounds of the Continent spread before me, I couldn't see anything. I couldn't hear anything. I couldn't sleep. Every night I thought about it, until I nearly tore my hair out in frustration. The unanswered questions are killing me, very slowly."