Page 87 of Finding Lord Landry

Kenji suddenly lost his nerve and fiddled with his wedding ring. “I, ah, didn’t make Master. I stopped playing in tournaments halfway through college.”

Dad reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “That’s impressive. I’d love to take a lesson if you have time for a match with an old Cambridge lad. I’ll certainly lose, but it will not be for lack of trying, only lack of practice. Maybe it will give the two of you a chance to cool off.”

Kenji turned back to smile at him. “I’d love to play. I’m rusty, too. With the exception of playing against my grandmother a couple of times a year, I haven’t played regularly in over a decade.”

Dad clapped his shoulder and tilted his head toward the door to the rest of the house. “No time like the present. Come on, then.”

He didn’t give Kenji much choice, which brought back memories of my father’s more commanding years. He’d mellowed quite a bit in the time I’d been away, but it was nice to see Kenji get a glimpse of who Edward Davencourt had been when I was younger, when he’d gone toe-to-toe with Lord Orren over critical energy proposals, changing the way England relied on foreign oil, or when he’d spent several days closed up with Dr. Frey and her husband hashing out details of a health initiative that provided additional funding to the NHS for research into rare diseases seen in combat veterans. In both cases, he’d argued staunchly in support of his proposed programs and won over an impressive amount of opposition to his causes.

I selfishly wanted Kenji to know that man. The smart, friendly, powerful fifteenth Earl of Davencourt. The man who’d made his mark on Parliament and on the legacy of our family.

The man whose reputation had made it so incredibly clear to me that no sane person would selectmeto take his place in the House of Lords when there were men like him who would do it a thousand times better.

I truly hadn’t thought I had a chance at actually being elected as an MP, but after meeting with Teddy Baines yesterday, I had to acknowledge it was a possibility. Teddy was a smart man who hadn’t ascended to the top of the government without being strategic and well supported.

While Kenji accompanied Dad to the library for a game of chess, I shoved the remaining bite of the breakfast sandwich down and refilled my empty Starbucks cup with black coffee before following Nan back to the office to review critical details of who would be attending tonight’s Hearts of Hawling Dinner and how I needed to engage with them.

I felt like I was back in school, with lists of names to memorize and key details to retain for the exam. At one point, I took a break and headed immediately to the library, where Kenji was regaling my father with stories about the Brotherhood, about Lellie and Christmas in Majestic, and about the snow bunny I made for her using carrots for ears.

I watched them for a few minutes, out of sight behind the edge of the doorframe, and marveled at the lack of tension in Kenji’s body. These days, the only time I witnessed him uncoiled was when he was deep asleep.

“Do you want children one day?” my father asked, gesturing to something. It took me a moment to realize there was a photo album on Kenji’s lap. The one full of my mother’s favorite pictures of me growing up.

Kenji looked down at the album. Instead of softening, he sat up straighter and closed the book, sliding it onto a nearby end table. “Yes, sir. I do. But I’m not sure my work life is compatible with a family.”

“That’s too bad. Children are a delight. I would imagine it’s harder for you boys since you wouldn’t have a wife at home to take care of them.”

Kenji nodded, pressing his lips together. “Yes, sir. I’d love to have a partner who was able to stay home with our children… but then again, I wouldn’t want to raise children in the city, and that’s where my job is.”

My father nodded and thought about it. “Tell me more about Majestic. Everett said it’s got beautiful views. I’d love to visit one day.”

Some of the tension bled out of Kenji’s body. “Itisbeautiful. There’s something both serene and inspirational about it. The views make you feel anchored but also… I don’t know… adventurous? It’s hard to explain. Lan… Everett would laugh if he heard me say that. I’m not exactly the outdoor adventure type. But being there makes my mind expand. I feel more creative and…” His voice trailed off as if he’d realized he’d run on a bit, but my father encouraged him to keep going.

Kenji shrugged. “I’m grateful several of my employers live there because it gives me an excuse to spend time in a place that feels very welcoming and therapeutic. It’s quite a contrast from the city, as you can imagine.”

As the subject changed and my father began telling a story about an adventure trip with his brother I’d heard a million times before, I continued past the library to my office and tried to put the conversation out of my mind. Hearing Kenji still refer to me and the guys as his “employers” galled me.

I checked in with the Brotherhood on a video call. They were all still in Majestic, awaiting Lellie’s birthday celebration that night, though her actual birthday wasn’t today.

“I told Kenji he should fly back for the party,” I explained for the third time. “But he refused. We’ve been invited to a reception at Downing Street, kind of a political networking thing?—”

Dev shook his head. “I still can’t wrap my head around this. The man who once ran naked down the shore in broad daylight singing Monty Python’s ‘Penis Song’ is going to don a powdered wig?—”

“They don’t wear wigs,” I corrected. “And I’m not going to get selected.”

Bash and Silas both stared into the camera with the kind of no-bullshit intensity they were known for. I glanced at Zane, whose face was creased in concern.

“But what if you are?” he asked. “What if you’re selected and you stay in London full-time? Will we ever get to see you?”

“You’d be surprised at how many breaks they get,” I assured him. “During the last session, they had about twenty weeks off. It’s not a bad gig.”

Silas’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “So I guess there’ll be time during those breaks to attend… oh, let’s say a family birthday celebration?”

Dev shot him a look while Way reached over and shoved a cookie in Silas’s mouth.

What they didn’t realize was that the knife cut just as deep whether their hands were on the hilt with mine or not.

Tully, who held a wriggly Lellie on his lap, griped at Way for bringing out cookies and demanded one for his daughter if he was going to flaunt them.

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