Everyone had looked at him, Sophie’s knitting needles arrested in mid-motion. “I am in love with Alastair Carstairs,” Thomas had said loudly and slowly, so there could be no mistake, “and I am going to spend the rest of my life with him.” There had been a momentary silence. “I didn’t think you even liked Alastair,” Gideon had said, looking puzzled. “Not much, at least.”
