He scowled. “Not really, no.”
“And why is that?”
“Because to start with, I’m not a fucking duke.”
I pressed my lips together. “So Nina was lying about your family?”
“I—no—” He shoved a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated.”
I turned back on my way. I had nothing more to say to that.
We strode another block, but Xavier remained mute, sidestepping people, poles, mailboxes, while he apparently figured out what to say.
“It started after Mum died,” he said at last. “Like I told you, my dad shoved me off to boarding school rather than deal with me in person. That’s where I met Harry Potter back there.”
I bit back a laugh. With his brown hair and glasses, Adam did sort of resemble the famous wizard.
“So you did recognize him.”
“’Course I did. But he’s a prick, so I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.” He wrinkled his nose. “Honestly, Ces, I don’t know what you see in him.”
I blinked. “Whatever it is, it’s none of your business.”
Xavier grunted, clearly thinking otherwise. But rather than argue, he continued with his story. “Look, it’s really no different than what I told you. My dad was a politicians. He was just in parliament, not a councillor. And yeah, he had a title. Not that it made a lick of difference. I didn’t know him either way. When Mum was alive, he was just the stranger who paid for school, and after she was gone, he was the arsehole who shipped me off to Eton until I came of age. He refused to pay for culinary school, but I handled that by selling Mum’s flat. Did a year at Dartmouth just to piss him off, but in the end, he just hated that I wouldn’t do what he said. Stay quiet in my little corner of London and behave.”
I nodded. I couldn’t exactly imagine Xavier being quiet anywhere.
“Things changed, though, after I was done with school. I told you he had a bit of a change of heart. Got testicular cancer and realized his chances of having any other heirs was nil. His wife had a son from her first marriage, but that didn’t mean a thing to him. So after his his wife left him, he asked me home.”
“You must have put up quite the fight,” I snarked.
I could just imagine him at that age, not much younger than when I met him. Stubborn and confrontational, just like he was now. Fewer suits, more T-shirts and jeans. Tall, of course, but maybe with the longer hair he’d had when I met him. Maybe even still past his shoulders, like Adam had described. Lankier, slightly rounder-faced with the innocence of youth.
Well, some innocence, anyway. I had a feeling Xavier had never been that innocent.
Xavier shrugged. “He was nice, really. Apologized for being such a wanker and blamed it on his ex-wife.”
I pursed my lips. I didn’t really buy that but let him continue.
“Anyway, he sort of made up for lost time. Taught me all the things a man teaches his son in that sort of life. How to ride, shoot, play polo. It helped, of course, that Lucy’s family owned the neighboring estate.”
“And was her dad a duke too?”
I couldn’t help the tinge of bitterness. I knew it was wrong to be jealous of a dead woman, but I couldn’t help it. So much of Xavier’s life had been affected by one of the few people he said was a true friend. He said he didn’t believe in love, but I did think he had loved her.
Xavier just took off his sunglasses and peered down at me. “No, a viscount. Why?”
I just huffed. I couldn’t even make a joke about any of this, could I? Because things that seemed absolutely ridiculous to me were actually reality to him.
“Anyway, I was only twenty-three. Thought I knew everything, but the truth was, I was just a kid who missed his mum and wanted a family again, even if it was just an old man and his housekeeper. And Luce encouraged it. She said he was a good person and everyone deserves a second chance. And so, for a while, I actually enjoyed myself. He even gave me a place to start my first restaurant—a little pub in the nearby village where I could experiment all I wanted.”
“Where is the village?” I wondered, trying to place him in some sort of setting. “Or the…the manor? Is that the right term?”
This was all so foreign. The Xavier I knew was an undeniably urban creature. I couldn’t imagine him riding horses in the country or chasing foxes with a bunch of dogs.
He peered down at me, almost looking grateful that I was finally asking questions. “Corbray Hall. It’s in Cumbria. Near the Lakes District, just northwest of Kendal.”
The fondness in his voice was unmistakable.