Page 6 of Finding Lord Landry

However, fifteen generations of Davencourts before me had been willing to take their place in the House of Lords, and I couldn’t—wouldn’t—be the first to throw off legacy. It was unthinkable. Instead, I would put myself forward when the time came and expect a polite, but quick, rejection.

Nan seemed to think otherwise. “You are a hereditary peer. The Right Honorable Everett Landry Davencourt, Viscount Hawling,” she said, as if I’d ever been able to forget. “Your father has served in the Lords for forty years. He’s spoken to Teddy about you taking his place, and the prime minister would like to meet with you to discuss it.” She tilted her head and studied me. “There’s only so long a young peer can be off ‘finding himself.’ Your gap year has become a gap decade, I’m afraid. You’re needed back in England.”

The press of lifelong family expectations was a familiar weight on my shoulders. “This is why he let me hide,” I reminded her a bit desperately. “He didn’t want me to feel this pressure.”

Even if I wasn’t selected for Parliament, I would be expected to re-enter high society, be the face of the Davencourt earldom, which involved rubbing elbows with other peers, influencing politics to benefit the family’s holdings and purpose, marrying within my station, and playing pretty peer at charity events. It all seemed so staid and boring. The opposite of who I was and the life I wanted.

Nan nodded. “Who do you think arranged everything? Your father. And I’m happy it worked. Considering you chose the most high-profile career possible, it’s frankly a miracle you’ve managed to keep your title under wraps this long.”

Nan was right, but then again, I hadn’t exactly planned on becoming a fashion model. And I sure as hell hadn’t planned on becoming a world-famous one.

Fortunately, the long-haired blond with perfect skin and chiseled abs on the cover of fashion spreads was unrecognizable from the scrawny teen with military-short mousy-brown hair, spots, and a belly a bit rounded from pints at the pub with his mates. I’d left school before going into sixth form and had spent two years studying for my A-levels with private tutors while watching my mother’s final struggles with lung disease. I’d been the late-in-life miracle child, which meant I’d had to watch my parents suffer from age complaints and illnesses way too soon. My father had witnessed the toll my mother’s decline and death had taken on me, which was why he’d agreed to my desire to run away from my life and start over somewhere new—somewhere people didn’t know I was the long-awaited “Davencourt heir,” potentially on the cusp of becoming one of the largest landholders in the United Kingdom outside of the royal family.

I’d meant to sneak away just long enough to have a normal college experience in America. My father had insisted on an Ivy League education, but otherwise, he’d gone along with my request for a temporary name change, a glow-up, and a fresh start.

But the expectation had always been there, a giant noble anvil hanging over my head, stamped with the family crest and crusted with hundreds of years of expectations.

“I’m not ready,” I whispered to Nan now. Even I could hear the emotion in my voice. I cleared my throat. “Not yet. I need more time.”

“That’s what you said last time we discussed this.” Nan set her tea down and scooted closer before squeezing my arm. “Is this about a man?”

I clenched my back teeth together. “That makes me sound pathetic and childish.”

She laughed. “It’s not pathetic and childish to want to find love, darling. It’s very normal.”

I huffed. “Nothing normal about this situation, I promise you. I’m not sure love is in the cards with this one. At least… at least not on his side.”

I, of course, already loved Kenji more than was healthy. My side wasn’t the problem. But Kenji had already decided I wasn’t a good bet for a relationship… and that wasbeforehe learned that I’d been hiding the truth about my name and title, the work I spent half my time doing, and my family responsibilities.

Nan reached for her tea again and sat back, kicking off her shoes and tucking one leg underneath the other. Despite being in her mid-fifties, Nan remained trim and fit. Managing the upkeep of the Davencourt estate was no small position, and Nancy Bayliss had held the job for decades.

She studied me as she sipped her tea, and I tried not to squirm. She’d known me since I was nothing but skinned-kneed and gap-toothed. If there was a secret to be had, Nan would suss it out.

“Unrequited love? How very Shakespearean.”

I sighed.

She gave me an empathetic smile. “So tell me about him, this man of yours. Is this simply a crush, or are you two actually seeing each other?”

I stalled for time with another sip of tea. Now that I was cooling off from the run, my sweat-damp clothes were turning cold and unpleasant. The gray January day outside the wall of windows in my apartment didn’t do much to warm me. “Neither, really. I mean… both?”

Nan let out a soft laugh. “Well, that’s clear as mud.”

I took another sip and glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. “It’s Kenji.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Kenji, as in… your executive assistant?”

“You make it sound inappropriate,” I snapped.

Nan lifted that damned eyebrow of hers but didn’t say anything.

I gritted my teeth. “It wasn’t like we planned it.” My heart thumped a little faster as I remembered that night. “He was angry. I was… also angry. Anyway, it just happened.”

“You mean sex,” she said. “You slept with him.”

My face heated. Nan matter-of-factly discussing my sex life was somehow worse than if it had been my own mother. I nodded.

“Recently?”

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