Page 75 of Finding Lord Landry

Which was why I was having a crisis of conscience, even without the so-called help from my good friend.

“What doyouwant, Landry?”

I pulled my knees up and wrapped an arm around them, leaning my head down against the soft cotton of my robe. “I want Kenji Toma to be mine,” I admitted softly. “I want to move to Majestic and be surrounded by friends and family. I want to make Kenji’s wildest dreams come true. See Lellie grow up and maybe have my own kids who can grow up with her. Watch Dev finally shake his grief and Silas wear Way’s cowboy hat unironically. I want to stay connected to my father and my family here in England and raise my kids to know their family history without feeling any pressure to serve it.”

Bash let silence settle between us again. He’d always been good at letting silence do the talking in business meetings, and now I felt the power of its impact.

When he finally spoke, I was surprised by the words.

“If you plan on having kids one day, what will your choices in this moment teachthem?”

His question echoed in my mind and heart as we ended the call and I moved into my dressing room.

As soon as I entered the familiar space, I stopped short. Kenji’s meager collection of clothes hung in a previously empty spot, and the running shoes I’d picked up for him were neatly placed at the end of my own row of shoes.

I walked over and pressed my face into the fabric of the long-sleeved half-zip he’d been wearing when he was rescued. It had been washed, of course, so it smelled of Hawling House laundry soap. There was no trace left of Kenji’s own scent or the Tide pods he used back home.

I was tempted to slide the garment over my bare skin, to flaunt the casual use of his clothes when I went downstairs, but I wouldn’t dare. This and his running tights were the only articles of clothing he had of his own, and I could tell how much that bothered him.

After quickly throwing on a pair of trousers and a sweater, I called Dev. Thankfully, that call went way more smoothly, thanks to his distraction with Lellie who was playing in the background.

“I wish you’d told us,” he said. “But I also understand. Grief is a heavy weight to carry, Landry. Sometimes the hardest things we face are the easiest to hide.”

His words, like Bash’s, stayed with me as I made my way downstairs to meet with Nan about tomorrow’s sports day appearance.

Thankfully, Kenji was off shopping with Cora, so I was able to focus on Nan’s words and learn all there was to know about the three schools involved, the Davencourt Foundation’s history of programs like this one, the plans for future program expansion, and the names of all the key players I’d need to remember when I arrived.

“Now, let’s go over your speech,” Nan said, watching me carefully for my reaction.

I shot her a happy smile. “Don’t worry, I’m too busy plotting Cora’s downfall to blame you for this little detail. I’m well aware that she would normally be the one giving this speech.”

Nantsk’d me. “It’s important for you to get the opportunity to speak of important issues so people can see you’re more than a pretty face. I’m going to introduce you to Ned Pinchon, who’s been selected to help write your statement to the voting members in the by-election. He’s also taken a stab at your speech for tomorrow. The two of you can spend the rest of the afternoon sorting those things out.”

The remainder of the day was more excruciating than the rest of the day had been, which was saying something. Ned was a fine man with excellent skills, but he took his job incredibly seriously. By the time I was called into dinner, my head was throbbing.

The throbbing turned to a relentless pounding when the first person I saw in the dining room was my Aunt Lydia.

“Darling! I’m thrilled you’ve finally finished that American modeling nonsense and are home for good.”

I gave her the expected air-kisses before glancing around to find Reg’s new sous chef setting a few serving utensils on the sideboard and Kenji standing alone nearby, pretending to admire a portrait of the ninth earl and his hunting dogs. I glanced back at Aunt Lydia. “Have you met Kenji yet?”

She tilted her nose up almost imperceptibly. “No, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”

I moved over to place a hand on Kenji’s back, and he turned toward us. A mask of politeness fell over his features, dropping the temperature of the room a few degrees.

A small frown of worry creased the sous chef’s face as she glanced between Kenji and Lydia, indicating some unspoken tension in the room.

“Aunt Lydia, may I introduce Kenji Toma? Kenji, this is my aunt, Lydia Davencourt. Cora’s mother.”

Lydia gave a perfunctory nod and fake smile without offering her hand. “I see. And you are Landry’s assistant, correct?”

Kenji stumbled against my side, making me aware that I’d pulled him closer without noticing.

“Yes, ma’am,” he began, the edge of his mouth curling up dangerously. “I assist him in quite a few things, actually.”

The words were laden with innuendo.

Kenji’s hand landed on my chest as he turned and shot me an adoring look. “Isn’t that right, darling?”

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