The Masters were serious that night. After spending the evening playing with Meg and Cian, they had managed to get the children to bed after a long, fretful period of time and stiff resistance from Cian.

Baby Meg wound her plump arms in the Irishman’s hair and blew raspberries at him, making his heart melt. He cuddled her, cradling her till she fell asleep. As for Cian, he was content to have his St Just on his knees on the floor, playing with the train set that Claude had gotten for him.

“He’s too young for it,” Bianca had protested when she saw the large, intricate set, complete with a...