“I know what it meant,” Billie snapped.
“Oh, Billie,” Andrew sighed.
She swung around to glare at him.
“You need to get out of the house,” he said.
Please, as if she didn’t know that. She turned back to George. “Pray, excuse my impoliteness. I wasn’t expecting you.”
His brows arched, but he accepted her apology with a nod and took a seat when she did.
“We need to feed him,” Billie said, tilting her head toward Andrew.
“Water him, too?” George murmured, as if Andrew were a horse.
“I’m right here!” Andrew protested.
George motioned to the day-old copy of the London Times, which lay freshly ironed on the table next to him. “Do you mind if I read?”
“Not at all,” Billie said. Far be it from her to expect him to entertain her. Even if that had been his implied purpose in stopping by. She leaned forward, giving Andrew a little tap on his shoulder. “Would you like me to get you started?”
“Please,” he said, “and then don’t touch it.”
Billie looked at George. The newspaper was still folded in his lap, and he was watching the two of them with amused curiosity.
“In the center of the table,” Andrew said.
Billie gave him a bit of a look. “Autocratic as always.”
“I am an artist.”
“Architect,” George said.
Andrew looked up, as if he’d forgotten his brother was there. “Yes,” he murmured. “Quite.”
Billie slid from her chair and knelt in front of the low table, adjusting her weight so as not to put pressure on her bad foot. She selected two cards from the messy pile near the table’s edge and balanced them into the shape of a T. Carefully, she released her fingers and waited to see if it was secure.
“Nicely done,” George murmured.
Billie smiled, absurdly pleased by his compliment. “Thank you.”
Andrew rolled his eyes.
“I swear, Andrew,” Billie said, using a third card to transform the T into an H, “you turn into the most annoying person when you’re doing this.”
“But I get the job done.”
Billie heard George chuckle, followed by the crinkling sound of the newspaper opening and then folding into a readable shape. She shook her head, decided that Andrew was extraordinarily fortunate she was his friend, and set a few more cards into place. “Will that be enough to get you started?” she asked Andrew.
“Yes, thank you. Mind the table when you get up.”
“Is this what you’re like at sea?” Billie asked, limping across the room to get her book before settling back down. “It’s a wonder anyone puts up with you.”
Andrew narrowed his eyes – at the card structure, not at her – and placed a card into position. “I get the job done,” he repeated.
Billie turned back to George. He was watching Andrew with a peculiar expression on his face. His brow was furrowed, but he wasn’t precisely frowning. His eyes were far too bright and curious for that. Every time he blinked, his lashes swept down like a fan, graceful and — “Billie?”
Oh, God, he’d caught her looking at him.
Wait, why was she looking at him?
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Lost in thought.”
“I hope it was something interesting.”
She choked on her breath before answering, “Not really.” Then she felt kind of terrible, insulting him without his even knowing it.
And without her really meaning to.
“He’s like a different person,” she said, motioning to Andrew. “I find it very disconcerting.”
“You’ve never seen him like this before?”
“No, I have.” She looked from the chair to the sofa and decided on the sofa. Andrew was now on the floor, and he wasn’t likely to want his spot back anytime soon. She sat down, leaning against the arm and stretching her legs out in front of her. Without really thinking about what she was doing she reached for the blanket that lay folded over the back and spread it over her legs. “I still find it disconcerting.”
“He is unexpectedly precise,” George said.
Billie considered that. “Unexpected because…?”
George shrugged and motioned to his brother. “Who would think it of him?”
Billie thought for a moment, then decided she agreed with him. “There’s an odd sort of sense to that.”
“I can still hear you, you know,” Andrew said. He’d got about a dozen more cards into place and had pulled back a few inches to examine the house from several angles.
“I don’t believe we were aiming for stealth,” George said mildly.
Billie smiled to herself and slid her finger into the correct spot in her book. It was one of those volumes that came with an attached ribbon to use as a bookmark.
“Just so you are aware,” Andrew said, moving to the other side of the table, “I will kill you if you knock this down.”
“Brother,” George said with impressive gravity, “I am barely breathing.”
Billie stifled a giggle. She rarely saw this side of George, teasing and dry. Usually he was so irritated by the rest of them that he was left entirely without humor.
“Is that Prescott’s?” George asked.
Billie turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Yes.”