“I’m not sure,” Billie admitted, watching Andrew take his turn. “I expect that it will become obvious as we go along.”

“Your turn, Billie!” Andrew yelled.

“Excuse me,” Billie said to George, suddenly eager to put some space between them. She felt almost light-headed when he was standing so close.

“What are you going to do, Billie?” Georgiana asked as she approached the ball.

Billie frowned. She wasn’t far from the wicket, but Lady Alexandra’s purple ball was squarely in her way.

“A difficult shot,” Andrew said.

“Shut up.”

“You could use blunt force.” He looked up at the crowd. “Her usual modus operandi.” His voice dropped to a confidential undertone. “In Pall Mall and in life.”

Billie briefly considered giving up the game right then and there and slamming the ball toward his feet.

“Wouldn’t that put Lady Alexandra through the wicket?” Georgiana asked.

Andrew shrugged as if to say—c’est la vie.

Billie focused on her ball.

“Or she could be patient,” Andrew continued, “and queue up for the wicket after Lady Alexandra. But we all know that’s not like her.”

Billie made a noise. This time it was definitely a growl.

“A third option—”

“Andrew!” she ground out.

He grinned.

Billie lined up her mallet. There was no way to get through the wicket without knocking Lady Alexandra through, but if she edged it on the side . . .

She let fly.

Billie’s yellow ball careened toward the wicket and smacked the purple one left of center. They all watched as Lady Alexandra’s ball rolled to the right, settling into position at such an angle that she couldn’t possibly hope to make it through the wicket on the next turn.

Billie’s ball now sat almost precisely where Lady Alexandra’s had been.

“You did that on purpose!” Lady Alexandra accused.

“Of course I did.” Billie looked at her disparagingly. Honestly, what had she expected? “That’s how one plays.”

“That’s not how I play.”

“Well, we’re not on a cross,” Billie snapped, losing patience. Gad, the woman was awful.

Someone made a choking sound.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Lady Alexandra demanded.

“I think,” Mr. Berbrooke said thoughtfully, “that she means that she would play more piously if the game were a religious endeavor. Which I don’t think it is.”

Billie gave him an approving glance. Maybe he was cleverer than he seemed.

“Lord Kennard,” Lady Alexandra said, turning to George. “Surely you do not approve of such underhanded tactics.”

George gave a shrug. “It’s how they play, I’m afraid.”

“But not how you play,” Lady Alexandra persisted.

Billie gave him a stare, waiting for his answer.

He did not disappoint. “It’s how I play when I play with them.”

Lady Alexandra drew back with a huff.

“Don’t worry,” Georgiana said, jumping into the breach. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

“It’s not in my nature,” Lady Alexandra sniffed.

“It’s in everyone’s nature,” Andrew barked. “Whose turn is it?”

Mr. Berbrooke gave a jump. “Oh, mine I think.” He walked back to his ball. “Am I allowed to aim for Miss Bridgerton?”