“He’s never cared for St John, which is odd, as he’s the more likeable of the two boys.”
“He’s also the one who looks nothing like an Ashford.” I cocked an eyebrow at Tanner. “And how, exactly, are you aware of all this?”
“It’s my job, sir.” He smiled down at the brandy in his snifter and once again swirled it around. “Tell me about the girl he’s chosen to marry.”
“Not exactly a girl.”
“Beg pardon?” His gaze shot up to mine, startled. “We’ve only the two sexes, and…” He took in my rueful smile. “Oh. I see. So St John prefers boys?”
“Do you have a problem with that?” I frowned at him, all the more aware that nothing in his files fostered the belief that he might look upon homosexuals—or even Jeremy-sexuals—with acceptance.