Normally, Lady Manston said, Crossy and her girls would come to them, but they hadn’t much time to get Billie properly fitted and kitted, and in this instance it seemed more efficient to visit the shop.

Billie had tried to protest. She wasn’t coming to London for a Season. It wasn’t even the right time of year. Well, it would be soon, but it wasn’t yet. And they absolutely had not traveled to London to attend parties and balls. Truth be told, Billie wasn’t entirely certain why she was there. She had been utterly shocked when Lady Manston made her announcement, and it must have shown on her face.

“You just said you wished to go,” Lady Manston had said, “and I will confess I am not being entirely unselfish. I wish to go, and I require a companion.”

George had protested, which, under the circumstances, Billie had found sensible and insulting, but his mother was unstoppable.

“I can’t bring Mary,” she said firmly. “She’s far too ill, and I doubt Felix would permit it in any case.” At that she had looked over to Billie. “He’s very protective.”

“Quite so,” Billie had mumbled . . . rather stupidly, in her opinion. But she couldn’t think of anything else to say. Honestly, she never felt less sure of herself than in the face of an indomitable society matron, even one she’d known since birth. Most of the time Lady Manston was her beloved neighbor, but every now and then the Leader of Society shone through, issuing orders and directing people, and generally just being an expert on everything. Billie had no idea how to assert herself. It was the same way with her own mother.

But then George had jettisoned sensible and gone completely over to insulting.

“Forgive me, Billie,” he’d said (while looking at his mother), “but she would be a distraction.”

“A welcome one,” Lady Manston said.

“Not to me.”

“George Rokesby!” His mother was instantly incensed. “You apologize this minute.”

“She knows what I meant,” he said.

At that, Billie could not keep her mouth shut. “I do?”

George turned back to Billie with an expression of vague irritation. And clear condescension. “You don’t really want to go to London.”

“Edward was my friend, too,” she said.

“There is no ‘was’ about it,” George snapped.

She wanted to smack him. He was deliberately misunderstanding her. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, George, you know what I meant.”

“I do?” he mocked.

“What on earth is going on here?” Lady Manston had exploded. “I know the two of you have never been close, but there is no call for this sort of behavior. Good God, one would think the both of you were three years old.”

And that was that. Both Billie and George were shamed into silence, and Lady Manston went off to pen a note to Lady Bridgerton, explaining that Billie had graciously agreed to accompany her to town.

Naturally, Lady Bridgerton had thought this a splendid idea.