Old habits were hard to break. James might no longer want me, but I still would make certain his nephew was safe. I looked into Robert Dorincourt’s family and put together a dossier on them: the grandfathers who’d raised their mother; their father’s work during the War, which had earned him a knighthood; their siblings, friends, and romantic interests. And in Andrew Dorincourt’s case, the numerous children he’d fathered between 1966 and 1967. He’d only have been sixteen or seventeen at the time, and it was obvious something must have occurred that tipped his emotional balance. At the end of that period, with the arrival of two little boys on his parents’ doorstep, it seemed he’d pulled himself together, and there wasn’t another whisper of scandal associated with him.
Other than that, the
