Because of Miss Bridgerton (Rokesbys #1)(52)

When he returned from his task, she was already a ways down the field, jamming another wicket into place. She’d left the rest in a pile, so he leaned down and scooped them up.

She looked up as she secured the wicket. “What have you against Sir Reginald?”

George grit his teeth. He should have known he wouldn’t get off so easily. “Nothing,” he lied. “I simply did not think he would enjoy the game.”

She stood. “You can’t know that.”

“He spent the entire archery competition lounging on a lawn chair and complaining of the heat.”

“You didn’t get up.”

“I was enjoying the sun.” It hadn’t been sunny, but he wasn’t about to tell her the real reason he’d been stuck in his chair.

“Very well,” Billie acceded, “Sir Reggie is probably not the best candidate for Pall Mall. But I still maintain that we could have done better than Lady Alexandra.”

“I agree.”

“She —” She blinked. “You do?”

“Of course. I had to spend all last night talking with her, as you so eloquently pointed out.”

Billie looked about ready to throw her arms up in frustration. “Then why didn’t you say something when Georgiana suggested her?”

“She’s not evil, merely annoying.”

Billie muttered something under her breath.

George could not stem the amused smile that spread across his face. “You really don’t like her, do you?”

“I really don’t.”

He chuckled.

“Stop that.”

“Laughing, you mean?”

She jammed a wicket into the ground. “You’re just as bad as I am. One would think Sir Reggie had committed treason with the way you were carrying on.”

Carrying on? George planted his hands on his hips. “That’s entirely different.”

She glanced up from her work. “How is that?”

“He is a buffoon.”

Billie snorted out a laugh. It was not particularly feminine, but on her it was charming. She leaned toward him, her expression pure dare. “I think you’re jealous.”

George felt his stomach flip. Surely she didn’t realize… No. These thoughts he’d been having about her… temporary madness. Brought on by proximity. That had to be it. He’d spent more time with her in the past week than he had in years. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said scornfully.

“I don’t know,” Billie teased. “All the ladies are flocking to his side. You said yourself he has a handsome smile.”

“I said,” George bit out before realizing he didn’t remember precisely what he’d said. Luckily for him, Billie had already interrupted him.

“The only lady who hasn’t fallen under his spell is the illustrious Lady Alexandra.” She tossed him a look over her shoulder. “Probably because she’s so busy trying to gain your favor.”

“Are you jealous?” he countered.

“Please,” she scoffed, moving on to the next spot.

He followed, one step behind. “You didn’t say no…”

“No,” she said with great emphasis. “Of course I’m not jealous. I think she’s touched in the head quite honestly.”

“Because she’s trying to gain my favor?” he could not help but ask.

She held her hand out for another wicket. “Of course not. That’s probably the most sensible thing she’s ever done.”

He paused. “Why does that sound like an insult?”

“It’s not,” Billie assured him. “I would never be so ambiguous.”

“No, that’s true,” he murmured. “You insult with pure transparency.”

She rolled her eyes before returning to the topic of Lady Alexandra. “I was talking about her obsession with Lord Northwick. He’s engaged to her sister, for heaven’s sake.”

“Ah, that.”

“Ah, that,” she mimicked, shoving another wicket into the ground. “What is wrong with her?”

George was saved from answering by Andrew, who was bellowing their names again, along with a rather vehement exhortation to hurry along.

Billie snorted. “I can’t believe he thinks he can beat me with a broken arm.”

“You do realize that if you win —”

“When I win.”

“Should you win, you will look the worst sort of champion, taking advantage of the weakness of others.”

She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. “I can barely walk myself.”

“You, Miss Bridgerton, have a convenient grasp on reality.”

She grinned. “Convenient for me, yes.”

He shook his head, smiling despite himself.

“Now then,” she said, lowering her voice even though no one was within earshot, “you’re on my team, are you not?”

George narrowed his eyes. “Since when are there teams?”

“Since today.” She leaned closer. “We must crush Andrew.”

“You’re beginning to frighten me, Billie.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re just as competitive as I am.”

“Do you know, I don’t think I am.”