Proserpina looked across at the doorway, sighing.

She was in the enormous nursery at her mansion, beside Piers’ two sons, one on her lap, cuddling her, his thumb in his mouth, the other, Luc, already asleep. Her own sons, Gabrielle and Alexander, were giggling as they made funny sounds, mimicking the characters in the book she had been reading to them.

Tara’s babies were also asleep, as was Claude’s little girl. Ria’s little one was also sleeping peacefully.

Camille ...