Page 15 of Finding Lord Landry

My ears perked up. Thankfully, Kenji wasn’t in Ecuador but several hundred miles off the coast. Still, I couldn’t help asking faux-casually, “Ecuador? Really? I haven’t seen anything about that online.”

She shrugged again. “Something about a risk of toxic gasses at a copper mine? I didn’t get the whole story because Mother pulled me away so she could ‘introduce’ me to Rupert Mehra, a man I’ve known since sixth form.” This time, her eye roll was less amused. “Then, when Rupert asked how preparations for the charity dinner were coming—his sister Amelia is a co-chair of the Montrose Initiative, so he knows the last few weeks can be intense—Mother changed the subject.” She shook her head. “The woman acts like the past two hundred years were all a fever dream and potential suitors might be scared off if they discover I have goals and a purpose to my life.”

I pretended to think about it. “Goals and purposearefairly terrifying. Have you tried being a dilettante like the Davencourt heir?” I batted my lashes at her.

Cora snorted. “Mmhmm, that’s you, alright. Sowing your wild oats all day. Not a single thought in that pretty head.” She cast a glance at my laptop. “By the by, I saw your memo this morning about the strategic allocation of funds to the Davencourt Foundation’s upcoming initiatives in arts and education. Just a little something you threw together between your mani and pedi, I presume?”

I smiled. “You know I hate to be bored.”

“Of course. It has nothing to do with you being a fuckinggenius.” She sipped her tea for a moment, then set the mug down. “Mother did mention last night that you were planning to step away from your modeling career.” It came out like a question.

“Did she?” My smile evaporated. Though I felt secure in my decision, I hadn’t announced it to the family yet since I knew they’d start making assumptions aboutwhyI’d made it. “How… resourceful of her. I only told my agent a couple of days ago.”

“You know my mother could teach MI6 how to ferret out information. I was just thinking…” Cora drew a sharp breath, then sat forward and exhaled it in a rush, bringing a torrent of words with it. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but Sir Jonathan Porter has been talking quite a lot about a proposed heritage taxanda bypass through Davencourt Park. If you could just meet?—”

“Cora,” I warned, knowing she was right. While I wanted to pawn her off on my dad for issues like that, we could no longer trust him to carry on a meeting without getting confused or repeating his stories.

Cora bit her lip. “Landry.” She managed to imbue those two syllables with a wealth of sympathy and frustration.

“I’m not staying,” I told her. “I fly out in a few days.”

Her face dropped. “But… Ed really needs you here.Weneed you here. It’s not just that people are starting to ask questions about you and that it’s getting impossible to keep putting them off with tales of far-off adventures. There arerealissues for the estate—for the family—that need to be handled delicately. We need someone who can be in Surrey, meeting with people at the Park. We need someone in the House of Lords who?—”

“I know.” I cut her off to keep from rehashing everything Nan had already told me. “But Cora, I also have areallife in the States. A career. Friends. I… I can see Dad’s Alzheimer’s is progressing, but the solution is for him to retire from office and get a care plan in place. Just because I’m not modeling anymore, that doesn’t mean I’m prepared to take over my dad’s political career right away. Besides, I would make a terrible MP. I wouldn’t even get selected, so it’s a nonstarter.”

She pressed her lips together in thought before shaking her head. “I think you’re wrong. This country—and the Lords—need fresh young energy. I think you should give it serious thought.”

I braced my hands on the table and shoved up from my chair to make a fresh coffee. “I’ve done littlebutthink about it since I’ve been here. Look, the Palace and the prime minister know where I am, andtheyhaven’t asked me to take my father’s place?—”

“Not yet,” Cora said flatly, which was more than a little chilling. She took another sip of tea and studied me. “Nan says this is about a boy.”

“Jesus.” I let out a weary laugh and did what I’d been tryingnotto do practically every moment since I’d crawled out of bed this morning: I thought of Kenji.

Kenji, who of course—of fuckingcourse—hadn’t been able to make it more than two weeks into his monthlong electronics sabbatical without checking his phone because the man thrived on challenge and lived to be needed.

Kenji, who’d called me the moment he’d heard about my modeling retirement, clear concern for me in every word he’d spoken, though he’d tried to hide it.

Kenji, who’d been jealous—there was no other explanation for it, despite all his talk about “no promises” and “no expectations”—when he’d thought I was curled up with another man, and who’d sounded incredibly relieved when he’d learned my bedmate was just a very large cat.

Kenji, whose voice had been a lifeline of sanity when I’d felt like my life was spinning inexorably out of my control.

“He’s not aboy,” I said belatedly. “And Nan needs to keep her thoughts to herself.”

“Tell me,” Cora commanded.

I sat back down with my coffee, gripping the warm mug with both hands. “Not much to tell. I’m in love with a man who calls me his ‘enemy with benefits.’ He’s the most beautiful, sexy, intelligent, capable person on the planet. He’s prickly as a hedgehog and has a heart like a marshmallow. And he thinks I’m an incompetent twat because at one point, I had the brilliant idea that if I kept messing up my life, he’d have to keep fixing it, and any attention was better than none.” I summoned a self-deprecating smile. “Still think I’m a fucking genius?”

Cora’s blue eyes widened. “Oh, Landry. Nan said it was a tricky situation, but…”

“Nan is a master of understatement.” I blew out a breath.

“Does Kenji know about, uh…” She waved her hand around the historic kitchen with antique copper pots hanging from hooks and the old brass servant bells still hanging on a board by the door to the butler’s pantry. “You being the earl?”

Of course she’d figured out right away who I’d meant. It wasn’t like I’d never spoken about him to her.

“Viscount,” I said instinctively. “I am still Viscount Hawling. I won’t be earl for many years, hopefully. And no, I haven’t told him about my fuckinghereditary peerage, Cora. God.” I laughed shortly. “I wanted the guy to like me. Kenji believes in working hard and achieving your due through diligence and dedication?—”

“You work hard!”

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