“Billie?”
She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss George. She’d reached the age of three-and-twenty without wanting to even so much as flirt with a gentleman and now she wanted George Rokesby?
Oh, this was wrong. This was very, very wrong. This was panic-inducing, world-flipping, heart-stopping wrong.
“Billie, is something wrong?”
She snapped to attention, then remembered to breathe. “Nothing,” she said, rather too brightly. “Nothing at all.”
But what would he do? How would he react if she marched up to him, grabbed him by the back of his head, and dragged his mouth down to hers?
He’d tell her she was raving mad, that’s what he’d do. To say nothing of the four other Pall Mall players not twenty yards away.
But what if no one else were here? What if the rest of the world fell away, and there was no one to witness her insanity? Would she do it?
And would he kiss her back?
“Billie? Billie?”
She turned, dazed, toward the sound of his voice.
“Billie, what is wrong with you?”
She blinked, bringing his face into focus. He looked concerned. She almost laughed. He ought to be concerned.
“Billie…”
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “Really. It’s… ah… are you warm?” She fanned herself with her hand. “I’m very warm.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. It wasn’t the least bit warm.
“I think it’s my turn!” she blurted.
She had no idea if it was her turn.
“No,” George said, “Andrew’s still going. I daresay Lady Alexandra is in for trouble.”
“Is she,” she murmured, her thoughts still on her imaginary kiss.
“Damn it, Billie, now I know something is wrong.” He scowled. “I thought you wanted to crush her.”
“I do,” she said, slowly regaining possession of her brain. Dear heavens, she could not let herself get so discomfited. George wasn’t stupid. If she descended into idiocy every time he looked at her he was going to realize that something was amiss. And if he realized that she might possibly be just a little bit infatuated…
No. He could never know.
“Your turn, Billie!” Andrew bellowed.
“Right,” she said. “Right, right, right.” She looked over at George without actually looking at him. “Excuse me.” She hurried over to her ball, gave the field a cursory examination, and whacked it toward the next wicket.
“I do believe you’ve overshot,” Lady Alexandra said, sidling up next to her.
Billie forced a smile, trying to look enigmatic.
“Watch out!” someone yelled.
She jumped back just before the blue ball slammed into her toes. Lady Alexandra was equally nimble, and they both watched as Mr. Berbrooke’s ball settled a few feet away from the wicket.
“I suppose it would serve us both right if that idiot won the game,” Lady Alexandra said.
Billie stared at her in surprise. It was one thing to trade insults with her; she could certainly give as good as she got. But to disparage Mr. Berbrooke, who was quite possibly the most genial man she’d ever met…
Honestly, the woman was a monster.
Billie glanced back up the course. The purple ball was still firmly fixed behind the first wicket. “It’s almost your turn,” she said sweetly.
Lady Alexandra narrowed her eyes and made a surprisingly unpleasant sound before stalking off.
“What did you say to her?” George asked a moment later. He’d just taken his turn and was presently well-situated to take the second wicket.
“She is a terrible person,” Billie muttered.
“Not what I asked,” George said, glancing back at the lady in question, “but probably answer enough.”
“She— Oh, never mind.” Billie gave her head a shake. “She’s not worth my breath.”
“Certainly not,” George agreed.
Billie’s heart did a flip at the compliment, and she turned. “George, have you —” She frowned, cocking her head to the side. “Is that Felix coming toward us?”
George shaded his eyes as he peered in the direction she was pointing. “I believe so, yes.”
“He’s moving very quickly. I hope nothing is amiss.”
They watched as Felix approached Andrew, who was closer than they were to the house. They spoke for a few moments and then Andrew took off at a full sprint.
“Something’s wrong,” George said. Mallet still in hand, he started walking toward Felix, picking up speed with every step.
Billie hurried after him as best she could, half-limping half-hopping, the rest of their Pall Mall equipment forgotten on the lawn. Frustrated with her lack of speed, she hiked up her skirts and just ran, pain be damned. She caught up with George moments after he reached Felix.
“There was a messenger,” Felix was saying.
George’s eyes searched his face. “Edward?”
Billie’s hand flew to her mouth. Not Edward. Oh, please, not Edward.
Felix nodded grimly. “He’s gone missing.”
Chapter 16
G
eorge was already halfway to Aubrey Hall before he realized that Billie was scurrying alongside him, forced to run just to keep up with his long, swift stride.
Running. She was running.
On her ankle.