“Well, of course she is,” Andrew said with a blinding grin, “but isn’t this more fun?”
Naturally, he did not wait for an answer.
“Billie!” he called again. “Oh, Billiebilliebilliebill —”
“For heaven’s sake!” Billie’s head popped out of the doorway to the library. Her chestnut hair had been pulled back into the loose coiffure of a lady with no plans to socialize. “You’re loud enough to wake the dead. What are you doing here?”
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
“I saw you last night.”
“So you did.” Andrew leaned down and dropped a brotherly kiss on her cheek. “But you had to go without for so very long. You need to stock up.”
“On your company?” Billie asked dubiously.
Andrew patted her arm. “We are so fortunate that you have this opportunity.”
George leaned to the right so that he could see her from behind his brother. “Shall I strangle him or will you?”
She rewarded him with a devious smile. “Oh, it must be a joint endeavor, don’t you think?”
“So that you may share the blame?” Andrew quipped.
“So that we may share the joy,” Billie corrected.
“You wound me.”
“Happily, I assure you.” She hopped to the left and looked at George. “What brings you here this fine morning, Lord Kennard?”
He gave her a bit of a look at her use of his title. The Bridgertons and Rokesbys never stood on occasion when it was just the two families. Even now, no one so much as blinked at Billie being alone with two unmarried gentlemen in the library. It wasn’t the sort of thing that would be permitted during the upcoming house party, though. They were all well aware that their relaxed manners would not stand in extended company.
“Dragged along by my brother, I’m afraid,” George admitted. “There was some fear for your family’s safety.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Really.”
“Now, now, Billie,” Andrew said. “We all know you don’t do well trapped indoors.”
“I came for his safety,” George said with a jerk of his head toward Andrew. “Although it is my belief that any injury you might do to him would be entirely justified.”
Billie threw back her head and laughed. “Come, join me in the library. I need to sit back down.”
While George was recovering from the unexpectedly marvelous sight of Billie in full joy, she hopped back to the nearest reading table, holding her light blue skirts above her ankles for easier motion.
“You should use your crutches,” he told her.
“Not worth it for such a short trip,” she replied, settling back down into her chair. “Besides, they tipped over and it was far too much trouble to retrieve them.”
George followed her gaze to where the crutches lay askew on the ground, one slightly atop the other. He leaned down and picked them up, setting them gently against the side of the library table. “If you need help,” he said in a quiet voice, “you should ask for it.”
She looked at him and blinked. “I didn’t need help.”
George started to tell her not to be so defensive, but then he realized she hadn’t been defensive. She was merely stating a fact. A fact as she saw it.
He shook his head. Billie could be so bloody literal.
“What was that?” she asked.
He shrugged. He had no idea what she was about.
“What were you going to say?” she demanded.
“Nothing.”
Her mouth tightened at the corners. “That’s not true. You were definitely going to say something.”
Literal and tenacious. It was a frightening combination. “Did you sleep well?” he asked politely.
“Of course,” she said, with just enough of an arch to her brows to tell him that she was well aware that he’d changed the subject. “I told you yesterday. I never have trouble sleeping.”
“You said you never have trouble falling asleep,” he corrected, somewhat surprised that he recalled the distinction.
She shrugged. “It’s much the same thing.”
“The pain did not wake you up?”
She glanced down at her foot as if she’d quite forgotten it was there. “Apparently not.”
“If I might interrupt,” Andrew said, bowing to Billie with a ridiculous sweep of his arm, “we are here to offer our assistance and succor in any way you deem necessary.”
She gave Andrew the sort of look George normally reserved for small, recalcitrant children. “Are you sure you want to make such a sweeping promise?”
George leaned down until his lips were at the same latitude as her ear. “Pray remember that he uses ‘we’ as a grandiose gesture, not as a plural pronoun.”
She grinned. “In other words, you want no part of it?”
“None whatsoever.”
“You insult the lady,” Andrew said without a hint of protest in his voice. He sprawled in one of the Bridgertons’ fine wingback chairs, his long legs stretched out so that the heels of his boots rested against the carpet.
Billie gave him an exasperated glance before turning back to George. “Why are you here?”
George took a seat at the table across from her. “What he said, but without the hyperbole. We thought you might need company.”