“I’ve always thought George was dull,” Andrew said.

George rolled his eyes.

“I was talking about you,” Billie said.

Andrew only grinned. “How’s the foot?”

“It hurts,” she said plainly.

“Better? Worse?”

Billie thought about that for a moment, then answered, “The same. No, better, I suppose, since I’m not putting weight on it.” She looked back up at George. “Thank you,” she said. “Again.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied, but his voice was brusque. He didn’t really have a place in their conversation. He never had.

The path forked, and George turned off to the right, toward Crake. It was closer, and with Andrew’s arm in a sling, he was going to have to carry Billie the entire way.

“Am I too heavy?” she asked, sounding a touch sleepy.

“It wouldn’t really matter if you were.”

“Gad, George, no wonder you’re starved for female companionship,” Andrew groaned. “That was a clear invitation to say, ‘Of course not. You are a delicate petal of womanhood.’”

“No, it wasn’t,” Billie said.

“It was,” Andrew said firmly. “You just didn’t realize it.”

“I’m not starved for female companionship,” George said. Because really.

“Oh, yes, of course not,” Andrew said with great sarcasm. “You’ve got Billie in your arms.”

“I think you might have just insulted me,” she said.

“Not at all, m’dear. Just a statement of fact.”

She scowled, her chestnut brows drawing down hard toward her eyes. “When do you go back to sea?”

Andrew gave her an arch look. “You’ll miss me.”

“I don’t believe I will.”

But they all knew she was lying.

“You’ll have George, at any rate,” Andrew said, reaching up and swatting a low-hanging branch. “You two make quite a pair.”

“Shut up,” Billie said. Which was a lot tamer than what came out of George’s mouth.

Andrew chuckled, and the three of them continued on toward Crake House, walking in amiable silence as the wind whistled lightly through the newly budded tree leaves.

“You’re not too heavy,” George suddenly said.

Billie yawned, shifting slightly in his arms as she looked up at his face. “What did you just say?”

“You’re not too heavy.” He shrugged. For some reason, it had seemed important to say it.

“Oh. Well.” She blinked a few times, her brown eyes equal parts puzzled and pleased. “Thank you.”

Up ahead, Andrew laughed, although for the life of him, George didn’t know why.

“Yes,” Billie said.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Yes,” she said again, answering the question he didn’t think he’d asked, “he’s laughing at us.”

“I had a feeling.”

“He’s an idiot,” she said, sighing into George’s chest. But it was an affectionate sigh; never had the words he’s an idiot been imbued with more love and fondness.

“It’s nice to have him home, though,” George said quietly. And it was. He’d spent years being annoyed by his younger brothers, Andrew most especially, but now that they were grown and pursuing a life beyond the ordinariness of Kent and London, he missed them.