Combeferre groans, but Courfeyrac’s grin predictably broadens further, and there is nothing anything can do to stop it. “I thought you would never ask, ma belle,” the interloper replies with a wink.

Combeferre sighs and bows his head, trying not to reach for the ring on Sybil’s finger. He loves Courfeyrac, but once he knows about the engagement, everyone will know, and Combeferre had been looking forward to sharing the news in his own way.

But how can he avoid it. Summing up a smile and a rueful sigh, he gestures towards the bottle Sybil still holds. “There’s champagne.”

“Well, well. What are we celebrating?” In light of his friend’s discomfort, Courfeyrac softens slightly, but that does not stop his curiosity from taking root.