Billie walked to the starting spot and set down her ball. “How did that happen again?” she asked innocently.

“Shark attack,” he said without missing a beat.

“No!” Lady Alexandra gasped.

“A shark?” Mr. Berbrooke said. “Isn’t that one of those toothy fish things?”

“Extremely toothy,” Andrew confirmed.

“I shouldn’t like to come across one myself,” Mr. Berbrooke said.

“Has Lord Northwick ever been bitten by a shark?” Billie asked sweetly.

George made a choking sound.

Lady Alexandra’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t say that he has.”

“Pity.” Billie smacked her mallet against her ball with thundering force. It went flying across the lawn, well past the others.

“Well done!” Mr. Berbrooke again exclaimed. “Jolly good at this, you are, Miss Bridgerton.”

It was impossible to remain unmoved in the face of his relentless good cheer. Billie offered him a friendly smile as she said, “I’ve played quite a bit over the years.”

“She often cheats,” Andrew said in passing.

“Only with you.”

“I suppose I’d better have a go,” Mr. Berbrooke said, crouching down to set the blue ball next to the starting pole.

George took a cautionary step back.

Mr. Berbrooke frowned down at the ball, testing out his mallet a few times before finally swinging. The ball went flying, but unfortunately so did one of the wickets.

“Oh! Terribly sorry,” he said.

“It’s no trouble,” Georgiana said. “We can put it back into place.”

The course was reset, and George took his turn. His black ball ended up somewhere between Lady Alexandra and Billie.

“Mallet of Death indeed,” Andrew mocked.

“It’s a strategic sort of assassination,” George replied with an enigmatic smile. “I’m taking the longitudinal view.”

“My turn!” Georgiana called out. She didn’t have far to walk to reach her ball. This time she hit it much harder, and it went sailing across the field toward the next wicket, stopping about five yards short of its destination.

“Well done!” Mr. Berbrooke exclaimed.

Georgiana beamed. “Thank you. I do believe I might be getting the hang of this.”

“By the end of the game you shall be trouncing us all,” he pronounced.

Lady Alexandra was already in place near the purple ball. She took nearly a minute to adjust her aim, then gave it a careful tap. The ball rolled forward, stopping directly in front of the wicket.

Billie made a noise deep in her throat. Lady Alexandra was actually quite skilled.

“Did you just growl?” George asked.

She nearly jumped. She hadn’t realized he was so close. He was standing almost right behind her, and she could not see him unless she turned her head away from the play.

But she could feel him. He might not be touching her, but he was so close . . . Her skin tingled, and she could feel her heart beating, low and insistent in her chest.

“I have to ask,” he said, his voice intoxicatingly close to her ear, “how exactly are we meant to work as a team?”