14
Martin checked his cravat once more in the mirror in the hall and scrubbed his hands through his hair, trying to tame the wildness from where Livvy had tugged on the strands in the midst of their passion. Then he entered into the drawing room and faced his twin sister.
Helen stood by the fireplace. She was only a few inches shorter than him and bore the same blonde hair and handsome features he did, though hers were reflective of her feminine beauty. In her arms she held Delilah, her two-year-old daughter, and beside her stood Gareth, her husband. He held the hand of their five-year-old son, Jeremy, who whooped with delight when he finally saw Martin.
“Uncle Martin?” Jeremy tore free of his father’s hand and rushed toward him. It was a tradition between the two of them. Jeremy would
