BECAUSE MISS "BRIDGERTON"

chapter 15

BILLIE HUMS HAPPILY as she arrives at the start of the Pall Mall trail. His mood was very good, after all that had happened. Andrew is still impatient, and Lady Alexandra is still the most horrible person in history, but none of it matters.

He looked back at George. The man followed her all day, exchanging insults with a jaily smile.

“What makes you so happy?” urged Andrew.

Billie smiled riddledly. Let Andrew boil for a while. After all, he wasn't sure why he was happy. It just feels like it.

“Who is the first player?” ask Lady Alexandra.

Billie opened her mouth to answer, but Andrew beat her.

“Usually we play from the youngest to the oldest,” he replied, “but it seems a bit rude when asking.”.

“I'm obviously the first, then,” Georgiana announced, and dropped the green ball to near the first punch post. “No doubt.”

“I think I'm the second,” said Lady Alexandra, sending a pitiful glance towards Billie.

Billie ignored. “Mr. Berbrooke, may we ask how old are you?”

“What? Oh, I'm 25.” The man smiled broadly. He does it often. “Fourth century, you know.”

“Alright, then,” said Billie, “bold players order Georgiana, Lady Alexandra. Berbrooke, and George.”

“Do you not mean Lord Kennard?” ask Lady Alexandra.

“No, I'm pretty sure I mean George,” cut Billie ketus. Oh, my God, that woman pissed him off.

“I like to play with black balls,” said George, changing the subject smoothly. But Billie was watching him; she wasn't sure, but she thought she saw Andrew hiding a smile.

Goody.

“The color is masculine once,” Lady Alexandra confirms.

Billie wants to puke.

“That color of death,” Andrew twisting eyeballs.

“Hoo of Death,” ponder George. He swung it forward and backward several times, like a terrifying pendulum. “It sounds interesting.”

Andrew grunting.

“You laugh, but you know you want it,” challenge George.

Billie's laughter spurted and became louder as Andrew threw an irritated delicacy at her. “Oh, come on, Andrew, you know it's true,” he said.

Georgiana looked up from her position at the starting post. “Who would like a Peony Flower Hammer or Petunia if he could use the Death Hammer?” he said, then turned his head towards Andrew's pink equipment.

Billie smiled in agreement. Since when did his sister become so smart and funny?

“My peony and petunia flowers will win,” Andrew wiggles eyebrows. “See later.”

“Your peony flower and petunia lost a very important petal,” Billie replied, pointing towards the injured man's arm.

“I don't think I understand what we're talking about,” Mr. Berbrooke.

“This is just a silly conversation,” Georgiana told as she prepares for her first swing. “Billie and Andrew love to tease each other. Always like that.” He hit the ball, and it sped past the two wickets in front. The ball didn't move any further but he didn't seem to mind.

Lady Alexandra came forward, and put the ball in its place. “Letnan Rokesby play after me, yes?” he confirmed. He turned towards Billie with a deceptive calm expression. “I didn't realize you were older than her, Miss Bridgerton.”

“I'm older than many people,” said Billie cold.

Lady Alexandra snorted and slammed the hammer into the ball, making it slide across the courtyard.

“Very good!” cheers Mr. Brooke. “Wah, you've played this game apparently.”

Lady Alexandra smiled humbly. “As I said earlier, Lord Northwick has one set.”

“And he played it in the form of a holy cross,” grumbled Billie quietly.

George elbowed.

“My turn,” Andrew announces.

“Ahoy, Petunia!” exclaim Billie cheerful.

Next to her Billie heard George laughing softly. It felt so satisfying, making the man laugh.

Andrew ignored. He dropped the pink ball, then pushed it into place with his foot.

“I still don't understand how you're going to play with a broken arm.”

“Note and learn, my dear girl,” murmured the man. Then, after practicing a few swings—one of them with a 360 degree— rotationhe hit his ball pretty impressively over the goal-battles in front and across the page.

“Almost as far as Lady Alexandra blows,” says Georgiana amazed.

“My arm is still broken,” said Andrew low.

Billie walked to the starting point and put the ball down. “How can your hand be broken?” tanyanya polo's.

“Shark attack,” Andrew replied smoothly.

“Gosh!” Lady Alexandra gasps.

“Hiu?” said Mr. Brooke. “Isn't it one of the creatures with many teeth?”

“Very much,” Andrew justifies.

“I would not like to meet with one of them,” comments Mr. Brooke.

“Did Lord Northwick ever get bitten by a shark?” ask Billie sweet.

George let out a choking sound.

Lady Alexandra's eyes narrowed. “I can't say already.”

“Honey once.” Billie slammed the hammer into the ball. The ball flew across the courtyard, far past the others.

“Very good!” exclaim Mr. Brooke. “You're so smart, Miss Bridgerton.”

It was impossible to remain silent in front of the endless excitement. Billie gave him a friendly smile as she said, “For years I played it quite often.”

“She cheats often,” comments Andrew while walking past her.

“Only with you.”

“I think I'd better try,” Mr. Berbrooke crouched down and placed the blue ball next to the starting post.

George took a step back just in case

Mr. Berbrooke frowned observing the ball, testing the hammer several times before it was finally swung. The ball flew, but unfortunately so did one of the wickets.

“Oh! Sorry,” said.

“Not a problem,” says Georgiana. “We can put it back in place.”

The track was repaired, and George started his turn. His black ball ended somewhere between Lady Alexandra and Billie.

“True Hammer of Death,” taunts Andrew.

“It's a kind of strategic killing,” reply George with an enigmatic smile. “I take a longitudinal view.”

“My turns!” Georgiana. He doesn't have to walk very far to get to the ball. This time he hit it much harder, and the ball drifted across the meadow towards the next goal, stopping about four and a half yards from goal.

“Very good!” exclaim Mr. Brooke.

Georgiana. “Thank you. I think maybe I can start playing it.”

“At the time the game ends you will beat all of us,” the man announced.

Lady Alexandra was already in her place near the purple-colored ball. He spent almost a minute setting the shot, then gave the ball a slow knock. The ball rolls forward, and stops right in front of the goal.

Billie made a sound in her throat. Lady Alexandra is a very good person.

“Did you just growl?” ask George.

Billie almost jumped in shock. He did not realize the man was standing so close. George stood almost right behind him, and he could not see it unless he turned his head away from the game.

Billie could feel George. Maybe the man didn't touch her, but she was so close. Billie's skin fluttered, and she could feel her heart beating low and pressing on her chest.

“I have to ask,” the man's voice sounds close and intoxicating in the ear, “to be exact, how do we work as a team?”

“I'm not sure,” I'm Billie, while watching Andrew take a turn. “Kuduga it will become clear with the passage of the game.”

“Your turn, Billie!” Andrew yelling.

“Excuse me,” Billie said to George, suddenly impatient to put a little distance between the two of them. He felt like he was almost floating when the man stood so close.

“What will you do, Billie?” ask Georgiana while approaching the ball.

Billie frowning. His position was not far from the goal, but Lady Alexandra's purple ball was right in his way.

“Difficult blow,” says Andrew.

“Diam.”

“You can use the power.” The man looked up at the crowd. “His usual modus operandi.” His voice was low with a secretive tone. “In Pall Mall and life.”

Billie considered admitting defeat right then and slapped the ball at the man's feet.

“Wouldn't that make Lady Alexandra's ball cross the goal?” ask Georgiana.

Andrew flicked his shoulders as if saying-c’est la vie.

Billie focused on the ball.

“Or he can be patient,” continued Andrew, “and queueing past the goal after Lady Alexandra. But we all know it's not her.”

Billie. This time it was clear it was a snarl.

“Three options—”

“Andrew!” snarl.

The man grinned.

Billie positioning hammer. There's no way the ball can go through the net without hitting Lady Alexandra's ball into the net, but if she hits it from the side…

He let it fly.

Billie's yellow ball shot towards the goal and struck the purple ball from the left. They were all watching as Lady Alexandra's ball rolled to the right, taking her into a position with a corner that made it impossible to expect to cross goal in the next round.

Billie's ball now comes close to being in Lady Alexandra's position before.

“You did it on purpose!” accuse Lady Alexandra.

“Of course.” Billie looked over with a disdainful attitude. Really, what did the woman expect? “That's how to play it.”

“That's not how I play it.”

“Well, we are not on the cross path,” Billie snapped, losing patience. Oh my God, that woman is so annoying.

Someone made a sound like they were suffocating.

“What does that mean?” sue Lady Alexandra.

“Kurasa,” sahut Mr. Berbrooke is serious, “he intends to say he will play more alim if the game is religious. And I don't think so.”

“Lord Kennard,” Lady Alexandra turning towards George. “Surely you don't approve of such underhanded tactics.”

George put his shoulders. “Unfortunately that's how they play it.”

“But not the way you play it,” Lady Alexandra survives.

Billie gave George a sharp look, waiting for his answer.

He didn't disappoint. “That's how I play with them.”

Lady Alexandra was furious.

“Do not worry,” says Georgiana. “You will learn.”

“That's not my nature,” snorted Lady Alexandra.

“That's the nature of everyone,” Andrew said loudly. “Now whose turn is it?”

Mr. Berbrooke jumped in shock. “Oh, my turn, I guess.” He stepped onto the ball. “Can I aim for Miss Bridgerton's ball?”

“Of course,” replied Andrew, “but maybe you want—”

Mr. Berbrooke hit the ball without waiting for the rest of Andrew's instructions, which was certainly not to hit Billie's ball from the front, as he did.

The yellow ball darted over the goal and far forward, giving him an extra one-and-a-half metres before stopping. The blue ball also rolled over the goal, but, as it transferred its power to the yellow ball, it stopped right past the goal.

“That's great, Mr. Berbrooke!” billie cheer.

The man looked at her with a big smile. “Thank you!”

“Oh, for God's sake,” snapped Lady Alexandra. “He didn't mean it. He's just glad you hit the ball over the goal.”

“Pull everything,” Billie murmured to George. “Forget Andrew. That woman we should destroy.”

Mr. Berbrooke called out to other players. “Miss Bridgerton will still bring the ball across the goal in the next turn, right?”

“True,” Billie confirm. “You really don't get me too far ahead, I promise.”

“And you also brought your ball through the goal,” Georgiana added. “It brings you to second position.”

“True, right?” Mr. Berbrooke seemed very happy with this development.

“Dan,” Billie added in style, “see how you're blocking the others. Nice work.”

Lady Alexandra grunts with rage. “Now whose turn is it?”

“My turn, I guess,” says George smoothly.

Billie smiled to herself. He liked the way the man said so much with just a polite mutter. What Lady Alexandra heard was the respectable man casually commenting, but Billie knew her better. He knows George better than the proud daughter of a duke.

Billie heard George smile. Feeling amused by the whole conversation, even if the man is too polite to show it.

He heard the man salute. Billie won this round; George congratulated her.

And he heard his subtle rebuke, some kind of warning. George reminded her not to take this too far.

Which Billie might do. George knew him as well as Billie knew the man.

“Take your turn, George,” said Andrew.

Billie watched as George stepped forward and got ready. He narrowed his eyes while aiming. She looks charming.

What an amazing mind. George Rokesby, charming? That's the most ridiculous thing.

Billie laughed softly just as George hit the ball. A good shot, making the ball land right in front of the goal.

“Oh, my goodness,” Georgiana blinked looking at the playing field. “Now we won't be able to pass.”

He's correct. The black and blue balls are only a few inches apart, flanking both sides of the goal. Anyone who tries to get through the goal will only add to the congestion.

George moved backwards towards Billie, giving way to other players. He leaned closer, his mouth moving closer to Billie's ears. “Do you laugh at me?” muttered.

“Slightly,” replied Billie, observing Georgiana trying to decide the direction of her blow.

“Why?”

Billie's lips opened before she realized she couldn't give an honest answer. He turned to look at the man, and once again George stood closer than he expected, closer than he should have.

Billie suddenly realized.

Realizing the man's breath, which felt warm on his skin.

Noticing the man's eyes, it was so blue and caught his attention.

Realizing the man's lips, full, beautiful, and curled with a knotty smile.

Realizing the man's existence. Just George.

He whispered George's name.

George turned his head to the side, asked, and Billie realized she didn't know why he called her, only that something was so right standing here with George, and when the man saw her like that, as he thought Billie was amazing, he felt amazing.

She feels beautiful.

Billie knew it couldn't be true, because George never thought of it that way. And he doesn't want to. Or does he want to?

Billie gasp.

“There is wrong?” George murmuring.

Billie shakes. Everything's wrong.

“Billie?”

He wanted to kiss the man. He wanted to kiss George. He reached the age of 23 without even bothering to flirt with men and now he wants George Rokesby?

Oh, this is wrong. This is so very wrong. It's a mistake that makes panic, twists the world, and stops the heartbeat.

“Billie, is something wrong?”

Billie flinched, then remembered to breathe. “Nothing,” said, a little too carefree. “No at all.”

But what will George do? How would he react if Billie walked up to him, grabbed the back of his head, and put their lips together?

George will say that Billie is crazy, that's what he's going to do. Not to mention with four other Pall Mall players who were less than twenty meters away from them.

But what if there's no one else here? What if the world disappeared, and no one witnessed its madness? Will Billie do it?

And will George kiss her back?

“Billie? Billie?”

Billie turned, dazed, toward George's voice.

“Billie, what's wrong with you?”

He blinked, bringing the man's face into focus. George looked worried. Billie almost laughed. That guy should be worried.

“Billie..”.

“I'm fine,” he said quickly. “Really. This... ah... do you feel warm?” He is fanning himself with his hands. “I feel very warm.

George did not answer. He doesn't need to. The temperature at that time was not warm at all.

“I think it's my turn now!” billie Spray.

He had no idea if it was his turn.

“Not,” says George, “Andrew is still playing. I dare say Lady Alexandra is in danger.”

“Really,” muttered Billie, her mind still on her imaginary kiss.

“Damn it, Billie, now I know something is wrong.” George scowling. “I thought you wanted to destroy the girl.”

“True,” said, slowly regaining his brain. God, he can't let himself be so distracted. George is not stupid. If Billie turns into an idiot every time George looks at her, the man will realize something is wrong. And if George realizes Billie's probably a little crazy…

No. gabe. George can't know.

“Your turn, Billie!” shouted Andrew.

“True,” said. “True, true, true.” He looked at George without seeing him. “Excuse.” He rushed to the ball, briefly checked the field, and hit the ball in the following goal.

“I'm sure you hit too far,” Lady Alexandra walked slowly towards him.

Billie forced a smile, trying to look enigmatic. “Be careful!” someone shouted.

Billie jumped backwards just before the blue ball hit her toes. Lady Alexandra also moves nimbly, and they both observe while Mr. ball. Berbrooke stopped a few yards past the goal.

“I think we both deserve punishment if that idiot wins this game,” Lady Alexandra said.

Billie looked at Lady Alexandra in surprise. It was one thing to exchange insults with him; he could clearly give insults as well as he accepted them. But to insult Mr. Berbrooke, who was probably the friendliest man he had ever met…

Really, that woman is a monster.

Billie looked into the game again. The purple ball was still behind the first goal. “Now it's almost your turn,” he said sweetly.

Lady Alexandra narrowed her eyes and let out a shocking growling sound before leaving.

“What did you tell him?” asked George a few moments later. He has just passed his turn and is currently in a good position to cross the second goal.

“He's a bad guy,” grumbled Billie.

“That's not what I asked,” George looked towards the woman being talked about, “but probably quite answered.”

“Dia—Oh, forget.” Billie shakes. “She doesn't deserve me to talk about.”

“Obviously no,” George approves.

Billie's heart momentarily stopped beating hearing the compliment, and she turned her back. “George, have you ever—” Billie frowned, tilting her head to the side. “What is Felix coming at us?”

George shaded his eyes while looking more intently at the direction Billie pointed. “Trusts true, yes.”

“The path is very fast. I hope nothing goes wrong.”

They watch as Felix approaches Andrew, who is closer to home than they are. They talked for a while then Andrew darted away.

“There was something wrong,” said George. With the hammer still in hand, he started walking towards Felix, increasing his speed with each step.

Billie rushed after as much as she could, half hobbled off half-jumped, the rest of their Pall Mall equipment forgotten in the field. Frustrated by her slow movements, she lifted the skirt and ran, to hell with the pain. He managed to catch up to George shortly after the man reached Felix's place.

“There was a courier,” Felix said.

George's eyes looked at Felix's expression. “Edward?”

Billie's hand floated into her mouth. Not Edward. Oh, please, not Edward.

Felix nodded grimly. “She disappeared

~DO NOT FORGET~

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