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His brother stared at him for several seconds, and then he smiled slightly. Nicholas was a gentleman of few words, but that smile revealed he understood Colin’s thoughts. “Why are you here?”
“Do I need an excuse to call upon my family?”
“No, but since you took lodgings in St. James Square you’ve hardly come by.”
A dark frown crossed his brother’s face and concern curled through Colin. “What is it?”
A lift of his brother’s chin indicated they should speak privately. They entered the library, and Nicholas strolled over to the window overlooking the gardens. He seemed troubled and that was unlike him, for he acted as if he had no cares or responsibilities in this world. The only thing he cared about outside of his family was his art. Facing Colin, Nicholas sighed.
“I saw someone last night at an artist’s salon. He looked remarkably like someone we know.”
Colin frowned. “Who?”
He widened his stance and clasped his hands behind his back. “Simon Gracely.”
“He is dead,” Colin said flatly. “I am certain it must just be someone who resembles him.”
Nicholas grimaced and a pained look entered his eyes. Dread sat heavy on Colin’s shoulders. “You believe this is more than a resemblance,” he said gruffly.
“Yes.”
He absently rubbed his stubbled jaw. “Do not bloody say so. The news that reached us was that he died two years ago. Fanny has grieved for him every day since. How in God’s name can he be alive? There must be some mistake to this matter.”
“It is the reason I came here right away,” Nicholas said quietly. “He…they referred to him as Lord Havisham.”
“There you have it. Their father must have died and who you saw was Simon’s older brother George—”
“Except George had brown hair and a paunch. This man had the same midnight black hair as Simon. The same height…the same voice.”
“Yet you do not sound sure it is the same man.”
“There are marked differences, but they could be the ravages of war.”
“Could George have lost some weight and done something to his damn hair?”
Nicholas glared at him. “It is more likely he went on to his reward and somehow Simon who is alive inherited.”
“I knew his family never approved of us, but this is madness.” Colin rubbed his temples. “If he is indeed alive and allowed Fanny to believe…I will kill him, Nicholas. She almost died of her grief.”
“That would hurt our sister,” Nicholas wryly pointed out. “Hurting him.”
“Wrong, if he abandoned her to have their child out of wedlock and returned to England and did not have the fucking decency to call upon her after everything they shared, Fanny will join me in putting a bullet through him.”
Nicholas arched a brow. “Except the whole family is supposed to be reforming.”
Colin swallowed his silent snarl, unable to imagine the agony Fanny would endure if this proved to be true. He hoped it was a cousin of some sort who looked like the damn man. It would be kinder that way. “Say nothing to Fanny. Not until I have investigated and find out what is going on.”
