He laughed softly. If Gerry were dying of thirst and spotted Alex two feet from a well, he still would not think he required his younger brother’s help. It simply would never occur to him that Alex might be able to provide it. “Right. So you sold it for, what . . . a lark?”
“That estate was an albatross round my neck, and well you know it. Rent rolls falling for five years straight. There was barely a household left to me by the end.”
“True.” But since when had Gerard cared for financial wisdom? He was a creaking anachronism who spent his free time in musty gentlemen’s clubs, raging against the nation’s decline into capitalist barbarism. His only comfort, he often opined, was that most of England’s soil still rested in civilized hands. That he had sold a good deal of this sacrosanct substance suggested a variety of possibilities, but nothing so rational as a sound economic decision.
Gerard was growing redder. “What do you lot care, anyway? The twins never spent a night there. And God knows I’ve never heard you speak fondly of the place.”
“No, I’ve no particular love of Heverley End.” It had been little more than a prison to Alex as a child—the echoing house to which he’d been banished for months on end when his lungs had grown contrary. “But you must admit, the decision seems peculiar. Moreover, Bel and Caro had to learn of it from the gossips. If you wish to discuss awkwardness, I imagine that gave the showgirl a run for her money.”
Gerard looked back to his half-finished speech, his stubby fingers linking together atop the page, then separating again and clenching into fists. He pulled them abruptly into his lap, out of Alex’s sight, like secrets to be hidden.
The gesture raised some unpleasant feeling that Alex did not want to examine. If Gerry required his pity, he did not want to know the cause. Unlike his siblings, he did not enjoy worrying. It was a pointless exercise by which nothing was gained. “Tell me the problem,” he said flatly. “I’ll fix it.” This, after all, was the reason he’d come when he should have been halfway around the world, attending to his own business.
“Listen to me: you will let it alone.”
“If only I could. Alas, I’ve promised the twins to buy back the land.” And he was determined not to have made this trip for nothing.
His brother gazed stonily up toward the painting.
Alex took a breath, leashing his impatience. “Barrington stands to make quite a profit by selling to me,” he said evenly. “My last bid was double what he paid you. Yet he proves remarkably difficult to contact. Four letters I’ve sent now, and I’ve still to receive a reply. I was hoping you might facilitate our acquaintance.”
“Alex.” Gerard looked into his eyes. “I said, let it alone.”
What the hell was going on here? “Perhaps I will,” he said with a shrug. “Lazy by nature, you know.” At his brother’s snort, he gave up a lopsided smile. “Only give me a reason for it, Ger.”
Gerard’s snort flattened into a sneer—that same damned sneer inherited by every firstborn brat Alex had ever had the misfortune to meet. “It seems I must remind you of a very basic fact,” he said through his teeth. “I do not explain myself to you—”
“Thank God for that,” said Alex. “I’ve little enough time as it is.”
Gerry’s palm slammed onto the desktop. “Amusing,” he bit out. “You are very amusing, Alex, never doubt it. A veritable family clown. But much as it pains you, I am the head of this family. The land is mine to dispose of. You may remind the twins of that, if you please. And you may interfere in my business the same day you hand me the reins of your little business.” He gave a nasty little laugh, sounding, for a moment, exactly like the schoolyard bully he’d once been. “God knows, that would be rich. Bilking Chinamen of their tea. Wheedling teak from coolies in India! Christ, but you do the family proud.”
Alex inclined his head. “No prouder than you do in the Lords. Fine show, shaking your fists at the Boers for daring to take land that you’d prefer to steal yourself.” He rose. “Shall I find lodgings, then?”
Gerry eyed him, clearly struggling to remember the less autocratic obligations of the head of the family. “Don’t be an idiot,” he said finally, gruffly. “You’re always welcome to stay here.”
It was a marked sign of Alex’s fatigue that he almost found this statement touching. “And it would look rather awkward for you if I didn’t,” he said dryly. Well, he’d take a week to poke around in Gerry’s files, see what he could uncover. The mystery would irritate him now until he solved it.