MacDowells . The photo albums had traced her development from a solemn, delicate toddler through a coltish adolescence. Now she seemed muted, like a fine painting seen through bad lighting, the colors dim and faded. Her clothes were classic, uninspired, hanging on her body with tailored severity that nevertheless seemed to hide her.
He moved over to the window, staring out over the snow-covered landscape. He hadn't been in
Vermont
in years—he'd forgotten what a late-spring snow could be like. He couldn't have timed his reappearance better—the turmoil of the weather paralleled the unsettling effect of the prodigal son's return.
He was a man who was more alert than most—he heard the footsteps in the hall outside his door and knew immediately who they belonged to. Ruben's tread was soft soled and discreet; Constanza's footstep was sturdy. And there was no way Carolyn was going to come back to this room without an exceptionally good reason.
Alex stretched out on the bed, staring up at the beamed ceiling. It was a comfortable bed, big enough to fit his frame and room to spare. He didn't move when the knock sounded on the door.
"Come in, Warren ," he said lazily, contemplating the cracks in the ancient beams.
----
Chapter 3
« ^ »
" S orry to intrude, young man," Warren said pompously, moving into the room and eyeing him with disapproval. "But I thought you and I might take this chance to get a few things clear."
Alexander glanced over at the tightly shut door. "Cut the crap, Warren ," he said lazily. "This isn't ' Mission : Impossible.' The room isn't bugged; no one is listening to us talk."
Warren 's elegant face creased in dislike. "One can never be too careful," he said, and Alex half-expected him to sniff in disdain.
"The only one doubting me is Carolyn, and I've seen to it she'll keep her distance, at least for the time being."
"I warned you she'd be the hardest one to convince," Warren said. "She's quiet, but she's sharp. And she was closer to the real Alexander MacDowell than I was."
The man on the bed smiled lazily. "I'm not worried about it. I think she was half in love with Sally's son when he left. It shouldn't take much to rekindle that feeling."
"Don't be absurd!" Warren protested. "She was thirteen years old. She may have had a crush on him, but it was hardly serious. She was far too young to be interested in boys."
"From what you've told me, Alex MacDowell wasn't just any boy. And don't underestimate the hormonal urges of puberty. She was probably lusting after him."
"Disgusting," Warren said, and this time he did sniff.
"You think I can't do it?" Alex said calmly.
"Oh, I have every confidence in your abilities," Warren murmured. "I expect you'll end up convincing everyone you're Alexander MacDowell . I just think you'll have an easier time tricking Carolyn than seducing her. I don't think she's a woman who has much use for the opposite sex."
There was a faint, unexpected undertone of pride in Warren 's voice, and Alex thought he could understand why. Sexual indifference was a matter of power to a man like Warren MacDowell . A power Alex had no intention of cultivating, at least not in this lifetime.
"We'll see," he said. "If I can get her to trust me enough to sleep with me, then we should have no problem whatsoever. Unless Patsy decides to be difficult."
"Leave my younger sister to me," Warren said. "I know how to handle her. She doesn't waste much time thinking about anything other than her own interests. The family business holds little charm for her. She's more concerned about her own greedy pursuits."
"But won't my sudden reappearance put a dent in the funds she uses for those pursuits?"
"I can handle her," Warren said again. "She's married well—three times—and she trusts me. We're actually quite close. If I accept you, she will."
"And her children?"
"They might not be so easy," Warren conceded. "But then, I never would have gotten involved in this charade if I didn't think
Janwillem van de Wetering