The altar overflowed with white and yellow spring flowers, the brasswork gleamed, and even the ancient organ was in fine tune, thanks to a generous last-minute donation towards its restoration made by the baby’s grandparents Duke and Duchess of Claremont. Millie stood with the rest of the christening party around the font, mouthing the words to ‘Dear Lord and Father of Mankind’ while trying desperately to stop her hymn book from shaking. On one side of her stood William, endearingly scruffy as ever, his tie crooked, dark hair flopping into his eyes as he bent his head to read the words. On the other was Seb, blond, sleek and self-possessed. The tension crackling between them was almost palpable. As the hymn finished, she sneaked a sideways glance at Seb, bathed in beams of jewel-coloured sunlight streaming through the stained-glass window. His handsome, aquiline profile was very familiar to her, and yet it was like looking at a stranger. She had been so looking forward to seeing him again, certain that once they came face to face they would both realise how foolish they had been.
