“Singe and I will put tea together,” Dorincourt said as the three men came out of the butler’s pantry.
“We’ll leave you two to it. Tanner and I will wait in your father’s study.”
St John swallowed. “Father. He’s going to be…” He was holding himself together, but no one should be able to do that after having learned his mother was dead and his father the most likely culprit.
“Let us deal with him. Dorincourt, you’ll take care of St John?”
“Did you doubt it? Now, leave us. I have to concentrate when I cook.”
That got a watery laugh from St John. “But my dear, you don’t cook.”
“All right, be pedantic. I’ll supervise.”
St John lay his head upon Dorincourt’s chest. “Robert…”
“I take care of what’s mine, green eyes.”
St John’s shoulders shook, but he didn’t make a sound. Dorincourt stro
