"Uncalled for, Billie," Andrew scolded.

"But true," she returned.

"I'm leaving," George said. Neither was listening, but it seemed only polite to announce his departure. Besides, he wasn't sure it was a good idea for him to be in the same room as Billie just then. His pulse had already begun a slow, inexorable acceleration and he knew he didn't want to be near her when it reached its crescendo.

This way lies ruin, his mind was screaming. Miraculously, his legs didn't put up any resistance, and he made it all the way to the door before Billie said, "Oh, don't go. It's just about to get interesting."

He managed a small but exhausted smile as he turned around. "With you it's always about to get interesting."

"Do you think so?" she asked delightedly.

Andrew gave her a look of pure disbelief. "That wasn't a compliment, Billie."

Billie looked at George.

"I have no idea what it was," he admitted.

Billie just chuckled, then jerked her head toward Andrew. "I'm calling him out."

George knew better oh, he definitely knew better but he couldn't stop himself from turning the rest of the way around to gape at her.

"You're calling me out?" Andrew repeated.

"Mallets at dawn," she said with flair. Then she shrugged. "Or this afternoon. I'd rather avoid getting up early, wouldn't you?"

Andrew raised one brow. "You'd challenge a one-armed man to a game of Pall Mall?"

"I'd challenge you."

He leaned in, blue eyes glittering. "I'll still beat you, you know."

"George!" Billie yelled.

Damn it. He'd almost escaped. "Yes?" he murmured, poking his head back through the doorway.

"We need you."

"No you don't. You need a nanny. You can barely walk."

"I can walk perfectly well." She limped a few steps. "See? I can't even feel it."

George looked at Andrew, not that he expected him to exhibit anything remotely approaching sense.

"I have a broken arm," Andrew said, which George supposed was meant to serve as an explanation. Or an excuse.

"You're idiots. The both of you."

"Idiots who need more players," Billie said. "It doesn't work with only two."

Technically that was true. The Pall Mall set was meant to be played with six, although anything over three would do in a pinch. But George had played this scene before; the rest of them were bit players to Andrew and Billie's tragic, vicious leads. For the two of them, the game was less about winning than it was making sure the other didn't. George was expected merely to move his ball along in their fray.

"You still don't have enough players," George said.

"Georgiana!" Billie yelled.

"Georgiana?" Andrew echoed. "You know your mother doesn't let her play."

"For the love of heaven, she hasn't been ill for years. It's time we stopped coddling her."

Georgiana came skidding around the corner. "Stop bellowing, Billie. You're going to give Mama a palpitation, and then I'll have to be the one to deal with her."

"We're playing Pall Mall," Billie told her.

"Oh. That's nice. I'll -" Georgiana's words tumbled to a halt, and her blue eyes went wide. "Wait, I get to play, too?"

"Of course," Billie said, almost dismissively. "You're a Bridgerton."

"Oh, brilliant!" Georgiana practically leapt into the air. "Can I be orange? No, green. I wish to be green."

"Anything you want," Andrew said.

Georgiana turned to George. "Are you playing, as well?"

"I suppose I must."

"Don't sound so resigned," Billie said. "You'll have a splendid time of it. You know you will."

"We still need more players," Andrew said.

"Perhaps Sir Reggie?" Georgiana asked.

"No!" came George's instant reply.

Three heads swiveled in his direction.

In retrospect, he might have been a bit forceful in his objection.

"He doesn't strike me as the sort of gentleman to enjoy such a rough and tumble game," George said with a haphazard shrug. He glanced down at his fingernails since he couldn't possibly look anyone in the eye when he said, "His teeth, you know."

"His teeth?" Billie echoed.

George didn't need to see her face to know that she was staring at him as if she were afraid he'd lost his mind.

"I suppose he does have a very elegant smile," Billie said, apparently prepared to concede the point. "And I suppose we did knock out one of Edward's teeth that one summer." She looked over at Andrew. "Do you remember? I think he was six."

"Precisely," George said, although in truth he did not recollect the incident. It must have been a milk tooth; Edward was no Sir Reginald McVie, but as far as George knew, his brother's smile was fully populated.

"We can't ask Mary," Billie went on. "She spent the entire morning hunched over a chamber pot."

"I really didn't need to know that," Andrew said.

Billie ignored him. "And besides, Felix would never permit it."

"Then ask Felix," George suggested.

"That would be unfair to Mary."

Andrew rolled his eyes. "Who cares?"

Billie crossed her arms. "If she can't play, he shouldn't, either."

"Lady Frederica went to the village with her mother and cousin," Georgiana said. "But I saw Lady Alexandra in the drawing room. She didn't seem to be doing anything important."

George was not keen to spend the afternoon listening to more tales of Lord Northwick, but after his vehement refusal of Sir Reginald, he did not think he could reasonably lodge another objection. "Lady Alexandra would make a fine addition to the game," he said diplomatically. "Provided, of course, that she wishes to play."

"Oh, she'll play," Billie said ominously.

Georgiana looked perplexed.

Billie looked at her sister but jerked her head in George's direction. "Tell her that Lord Kennard will be among the players. She'll be here with bells on her toes."

"Oh, for God's sake, Billie," George muttered.

Billie let out a self-righteous huff. "She was talking to you all night!"

"She was sitting next to me," George retorted. "She could hardly have done otherwise."

"Not true. Felix's brother was on her left. He's a perfectly acceptable conversationalist. She could have spoken with him about any number of things."

Andrew stepped between them. "Are the two of you going to snipe like jealous lovers or are we going to play?"

Billie glared.

George glared.

Andrew looked quite pleased with himself.

"You're an idiot," Billie said to him before turning back to Georgiana. "I suppose it will have to be Lady Alexandra. Get her and whomever else you can find. A gentleman if at all possible so we've equal numbers."

Georgiana nodded. "But not Sir Reginald?"

"George is too worried about his teeth."

Andrew made a choking sound.

Which came to a halt when George elbowed him in the ribs.

"Shall I meet you here?" Georgiana asked.

Billie thought for a moment, then said, "No, it will be quicker if we meet you on the west lawn." She turned back to George and Andrew. "I'll see to getting the set pulled out."

She and Georgiana exited the room, leaving George alone with his younger brother.

"His teeth, eh?" Andrew murmured.

George glowered at him.

Andrew leaned in, just far enough to be annoying. "I'd wager he has very good oral hygiene."

"Shut up."

Andrew laughed, then leaned in with what was clearly meant to be an expression of concern. "You've got a little something..." He motioned to his teeth.

George rolled his eyes and shoved past him.

Andrew hopped to attention, caught up, and then overtook him, tossing a grin over his shoulder as he loped down the hall. "Ladies do love a dazzling smile."

He was going to kill his brother, George decided as he followed him outside. And he was going to use a mallet.

Chapter 14.

T.

en minutes later George, Andrew, and Billie were standing on the lawn, watching as a footman plodded toward them, dragging the Pall Mall set behind them.

"I love Pall Mall," Billie announced, rubbing her hands together in the brisk afternoon air. "This is a brilliant idea."

"It was your idea," George pointed out.

"Of course it was," she said merrily. "Oh, look, here comes Georgiana."

George shaded his eyes as he peered across the lawn. Sure enough, she was leading Lady Alexandra in their direction. And, if he wasn't mistaken, one of the Berbrooke brothers.

"Thank you, William," Billie said as the footman brought the set into place.

He nodded. "Milady."

"Wait a moment," Andrew said. "Didn't we break one of the mallets last year?"

"Father commissioned a new set," Billie informed him.

"Same colors?"

She shook her head. "We're not having red this time around."

George turned to look at her. "Why not?"

"Well," she stalled, looking slightly sheepish, "we've had very bad luck with red. The balls keep ending up in the lake."