Page 16 of Finding Lord Landry

“I work hard managing land and investments that were handed to me at the entrance of my mother’s cervix. That’s a bit like saying I work hard carrying all of my heavy piles of cash around.”

“Don’t be crass. You can’t help being born into wealth. It’s what you do with it that counts. And you do amazing things. This morning memo alone was a testament to your talent in structuring budgets, optimizing disbursement timing,—”

“You know how your mother believes anyone born above Hampstead Heath is a fundamentally good person? Imagine the inverse of that,” I instructed. “Kenji is a… a reverse snob. He thinks a person’s worth is directly related to how hard he works. You should hear the way he talks about our friend Zane’s sacrifices for his fans, or Dev staying up all night helping his mare deliver a foal, or Bash for winning a cutthroat negotiation, or… or… Silas for landing another new consulting gig. When I landed the Armani contract, he said, ‘I’m surprised they went for a blond when brunets are more classic.’” I ran a hand through my carefully highlighted locks and shot her an aggrieved look.

Cora bit her lip, fighting a grin. “Ihaveoften said I liked your hair better when it was?—”

“Zzzzzt.” I made a cutting motion through the air. “I’ll have you know, this color takes an astronomical amount of commitment to achieve. No one outside the family would guess it’s not natural unless they’ve seen up close and personal that my carpet doesn’t match my curtains.”

Cora’s smile slowly faded. “Landry, have you considered that Kenjican’ttruly love you when you haven’t let him truly know you? The real you, I mean. Youarea hard worker.”

I rubbed a hand over my stomach, where hot coffee churned. “That’s just it. Hehasknown the real me. He knows Landry Davis. And Landry Davis has made some questionable decisions.”

Kenji knew things about me that no one else did. He knew about my obscene wealth—by which I meant mysecondround of wealth, which had come when the Brotherhood and I had sold our software program, and thethirdround, which had come thanks to my modeling career—and how I liked to manage and donate it.

He knew I considered the Brotherhood my chosen family and that I sometimes cried listening to Zane’s songs—especially the happy ones he’d been writing recently—because, of all the brothers, Zane was the one I felt most protective of.

He knew about my love for cheese curls—the American snack food that might or might not contain actual cheese—a love that I would not divulge to my personal trainer or modeling agent under any circumstances.

He knew I liked classical music but hated opera, that I couldn’t sit through a movie in the theater or at home without licorice whips, and that I thought lobsters were strange and terrifying.

In other words, he knew everything about me that was important to know.

At least everythingIthought was important to know.

I was awarehewouldn’t see it that way once he learned about my family.

“This—” I waved my hand around the ancient kitchen a bit desperately. “—this isn’t me, Cora. This is Everett Davencourt, Viscount Hawling. Someone I never wanted to be.”

Cora’s face softened with sympathy. As the person next in line to inherit my father’s estate if I died without a child, she knew better than anyone the responsibilities that came with this privilege. While she’d no doubt manage everything better than I would, she’d never once implied she had any desire for it to come to her instead of me.

“Itisa part of you, though,” she said quietly. “You might not want the position, but being a Davencourt is as much a part of you as… as being a Yale graduate. As being a model.”

I said nothing. I wanted to argue that being a peer wasover there, something that wasn’t relevant to my current life and therefore didn’t count, but we both knew it was more like an alarm clock I’d hit Snooze on one too many times.

“You could always walk away,” she ventured. “Go back to the States and forget all about this. I selfishly want you to serve in Parliament because it would be good for England. But I love you, and I want you to be happy.”

“Why?” I gave her a sidelong look. “Eager to take on the House of Lords yourself, cousin?”

She let out a loud bark of laughter that set her brown curls bouncing again. “Not for love or money. And think of my poor mother, Landry. How would she introduce me at parties? ‘This is Cora. She loves riding, children, the color pink… and delivering blistering speeches about tax reform to the Economic Affairs Committee’? Forget matchmaking for me—she might never getherselfanother date.” Cora laughed again, and this time, I joined in.

“No,” I finally said once our amusement died out. “Without even pretending to consider your mother’s romantic prospects, I wouldn’t walk away permanently. I’m a Davencourt, as you said.”

I loved my family. I was proud of my ancestry. I cared about doing my duty and upholding the legacy I’d been born to.

Just… notyet.

“I’m going to tell Dad and Nan tonight that I’m happy to continue doing what I’m doing, and I’m even happy to plan more time here in London working behind the scenes, but I won’t be ready to go public as Everett Davencourt and put myself in the running for Parliament for a few years. Maybe after my face is no longer plastered on bus stops all over London and I’m not quite such a person of interest. If I came forward now, can’t you just see the headlines? ‘Viscount Armani’ and ‘The Long-Lost Lord of the Runway.’ It would be unbearable.”

Cora inhaled and let it out. “I hate to admit it, but that’s a fair point.” She reached across the table and laid her hand on mine. “Nan and Uncle Ed might not be happy, but they’ll understand, just like I do.”

“Will they?” I smiled wanly. “Dad might say he does, but I’ll probably have to keep explaining it to him over and over again every time I come back.”

Cora winced. “God, you’re right. You will do, won’t you? Have to keep explaining it.”

I nodded once. “Sometimes he’s sothere, and then all of a sudden, he’s?—”

The familiar creak of the swinging door leading into the kitchen alerted us that we weren’t alone.

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