Page 46 of Finding Lord Landry

She chuckled. “Oh god, yes. Liv and I were thick as thieves for years. She was a good woman. Funny and smart. Kind and generous. And a hard worker, like this one,” she said with an affectionate smile now pointed at Landry. “He’s just like her. Looks like her, too. I’ll have to show you a picture of Liv. There’s the painting in the drawing room, of course, but there’s a photo album that has some good candid shots of her as well.”

Cora chimed in. “I wanted to be Aunt Liv when I grew up. I always thought she was a celebrity. Like a movie star. It’s no wonder Landry inherited that face.”

Ed turned to Landry. “Your mother was a beautiful woman, Everett.”

Landry glanced up and nodded. “Yes. I remember.”

“Did I ever tell you how we met? Funny story, that. She was here on a school trip…” He went on to tell the exact same story again.

My stomach dropped with sympathy, and in spite of myself, I looked to Landry to gauge his reaction. I expected to see him upset—worried, sad, embarrassed, annoyed, or some combination—but instead, he smiled at his father affectionately.

“Bet you never forgot to look right after that, did you?” he teased in a gentle voice. I could only imagine how many times he’d repeated those words.

“No, I did not.” He chuckled and went back to reading his newspaper.

Nan caught my eye and gave me a small smile of acknowledgment before standing and taking her own mug to the sink. When she came back, she checked her phone, patted Landry’s shoulder, and lowered her voice, presumably so Ed couldn’t hear. “Now that we’ve all pretended nothing’s wrong for a few minutes, maybe we can address the looming public relations situation before you faff off to New York? A crisis management team is waiting in my office.”

TEN

LANDRY

I was drowning. Normally, Kenji managed my fuckups. When I made a colossal mistake, Kenji was the one to put it to rights. So I had no clue where to even begin sorting out a fuckup that involved ruining Kenji’s life by accidentally throwing him straight into the trash-fire that was the British press.

The photographers and reporters who’d been at the airport had been busy all night while we’d slept, and the headlines and social media stories were outrageous. Kenji couldn’t have been online this morning, or he wouldn’t have been able to calmly eat toast and talk with my father.

He proved this a moment later when we reached the hallway outside Nan’s closed office door and he stopped her with a friendly smile.

“Thank you so much for your hospitality last night, Nan. Obviously, if there’s a public relations situation involving—” He waved a hand in my direction but didn’t turn his head. “—I’m happy to help. I’m kind of an expert in cleaning up his messes by now. It’s literally my job.”

My gut clenched, my whole body hollowed out by regret and pain. The situation was even worse than I’d thought. His tone was cold. Precise. Businesslike. As though his body hadn’t dissolved under my touch yesterday. As though the unguarded looks and smiles he’d given me on the plane had never happened.

As though all he was to me was an employee.

“But I’m sure you understand that I need to get back to New York,” Kenji continued politely, “so if we could coordinate our response remotely?—”

“Kenji.” Nan hesitated, glancing back and forth between us before focusing on him. “I can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through in the last few days, and Idounderstand your desire to be back on the other side of the Atlantic, but I cannot stress enough what a terrible idea that would be right now. The press is absolutely salivating over your story?—”

He shook his head. “They can salivate all they like. I have no comment about San Cordova.”

“Not that. I meanyourstory.” She ticked her finger between Kenji and me. “Surely you understand that when the heir to an earldom reappears out of thin air, whilst announcing an engagement to an unknown American, no less, the vultures will circle.”

Fuck. “Nobody announced anything—” I protested.

Kenji spoke as if he hadn’t heard me. He didn’t so much as spare me a look.

“The reporters at the airport yesterday saw us holding hands and standing close. They made up a narrative.” His dismissive tone was a dull blade shoved smoothly between my ribs. “There is no story there.”

I dropped my chin to my chest and tried not to remember the feel of his lips touching mine. Was it really just yesterday?

“The less we say about it, the quicker it will disappear,” Kenji continued. “No one will actually believe?—”

“They will,” Nan said bluntly. “Since the prime minister’s office, while refusing to give an official comment on your release or the hostage situation, did wish all the best to Lord Hawling on ‘his fiancé’s safe return.’”

Kenji’s body froze, and he let out a strangled puff of air. “The… he… what? Why would he?—?”

“Because I told him we were engaged,” I admitted. “I… I had to convince Teddy to put you on the rescue list. He wouldn’t add an American, so I… improvised.”

“Jesus.” Kenji rubbed at his forehead, still without looking at me—fuck, why wouldn’t he look at me?

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