“I can’t imagine anyone would think otherwise,” George said, although he had a feeling he’d thought otherwise, and not too long ago.

“What the devil are you two doing over there?” Andrew bellowed.

“I am going to massacre him,” Billie seethed.

“The wickets,” George said. “Just tell me where you want them.”

Billie separated one from the bunch and held it out. “Over there. Under the tree. But over the root. Make sure you put it over the root. Otherwise it will be too easy.”

George very nearly saluted her.

When he returned from his task, she was already a ways down the field, jamming another wicket into place. She’d left the rest in a pile, so he leaned down and scooped them up.

She looked up as she secured the wicket. “What have you against Sir Reginald?”

George grit his teeth. He should have known he wouldn’t get off so easily. “Nothing,” he lied. “I simply did not think he would enjoy the game.”

She stood. “You can’t know that.”

“He spent the entire archery competition lounging on a lawn chair and complaining of the heat.”

“You didn’t get up.”

“I was enjoying the sun.” It hadn’t been sunny, but he wasn’t about to tell her the real reason he’d been stuck in his chair.

“Very well,” Billie acceded, “Sir Reggie is probably not the best candidate for Pall Mall. But I still maintain that we could have done better than Lady Alexandra.”

“I agree.”

“She—” She blinked. “You do?”

“Of course. I had to spend all last night talking with her, as you so eloquently pointed out.”

Billie looked about ready to throw her arms up in frustration. “Then why didn’t you say something when Georgiana suggested her?”

“She’s not evil, merely annoying.”

Billie muttered something under her breath.

George could not stem the amused smile that spread across his face. “You really don’t like her, do you?”

“I really don’t.”

He chuckled.

“Stop that.”

“Laughing, you mean?”

She jammed a wicket into the ground. “You’re just as bad as I am. One would think Sir Reggie had committed treason with the way you were carrying on.”

Carrying on? George planted his hands on his hips. “That’s entirely different.”

She glanced up from her work. “How is that?”

“He is a buffoon.”

Billie snorted out a laugh. It was not particularly feminine, but on her it was charming. She leaned toward him, her expression pure dare. “I think you’re jealous.”

George felt his stomach flip. Surely she didn’t realize . . . No. These thoughts he’d been having about her . . . temporary madness. Brought on by proximity. That had to be it. He’d spent more time with her in the past week than he had in years. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said scornfully.

“I don’t know,” Billie teased. “All the ladies are flocking to his side. You said yourself he has a handsome smile.”

“I said,” George bit out before realizing he didn’t remember precisely what he’d said. Luckily for him, Billie had already interrupted him.