BECAUSE MISS "BRIDGERTON"
chapter 24
WHEN IT COMES DOWN TO breakfast the next morning, George is not surprised to find Billie still sleeping.
He didn't get enough rest last night, thought George satisfied.
They made love three times, and George could not help but wonder inwardly if there was any chance the girl was pregnant. Strange, but he had never thought too much about having children. He knew he had to have children, of course. Someday he will inherit Manston and Crake, and he has the sacred duty of providing the heir to the earl title.
But even with all that, George never imagined his children. He never imagined himself holding a child, watching his son learn to read and write, or teaching him to ride and hunt.
Or teach his daughter to ride and hunt. With Billie as their mother, her daughters are determined to learn the same skills as their brothers. And while he spent his childhood irritated by Billie's insistence on continuing to follow the boy, when it came to his daughter…
If they want to hunt, fish, and shoot like snipers…
They'll shoot on target every time.
Although perhaps George will draw the line in terms of jumping over hedges at the age of six. Surely even Billie would accept that it was absurd.
Billie will be the best mother, George thought as he walked through the corridor into the small dining room. Billie's children will be taken out once a day for inspection. The woman will love them as her own mother loves her, and Billie will laugh, tease, teach, and scold, and they will feel happy.
They'll all be happy.
George grinned. He was happy. And things will only get better.
His mother was already sitting at the breakfast table when he entered, glancing at the freshly ironed newspaper while smearing butter on his toast.
“Good morning, George.”
George leaned over and kissed the cheek his mother offered. “Mother.”
His mother looked at him from above the edge of the tea cup, one of her elegant eyebrows curving perfectly. “Looks like your mood was amazing this morning.”
George gave her a questioning look.
“You smiled as you entered the room,” her mother explained.
“Oh.” George shook his shoulders, trying to quell the bubbles of joy that made him almost jump down the stairs. “I can't explain, unfortunately.”
And that's the truth. He obviously couldn't explain it to his mother.
His mother watched him for a while. “I don't think this has anything to do with your departure being out of plan overnight.”
George paused for a moment as he scooped the egg onto the plate. He had forgotten his mother must have asked for an explanation because yesterday he disappeared. His presence at the Wintour Dance Party was the only thing his mother asked of him…
“Your presence at the Wintour Dance Party is the only thing I ask of you,” her mother's voice gets sharper with each word.
“I'm sorry, Mom,” said George. His mood was too good to be ruined by a fuss. “It won't happen again.”
“Not an apology from me that you should get.”
“Despite that, I want to get it,” he said.
“Well,” for a moment his mother was confused by his unexpected regret, “hanging Billie. I insist that you apologize to her.”
“It's been done,” replied George without thinking.
His mother looked up sharply. “When?”
Motherfucker.
He took a breath, then filled his plate. “I saw it last night.”
“Enight?”
George shrugged his shoulders, pretending not to care. “He's still up when I get home.”
“And try to tell me when you come home?”
“I'm not entirely sure,” George reduced by a few hours. “Middle of the night?”
“We have not reached home until one.”
“Then be sure afterwards,” says steady. It was amazing what a very good mood effect it had on his patience. “I didn't notice.”
“Why is Billie still up?”
George added four pieces of bacon to his plate and sat down. “Entah.”
Lady Manston's mouth is pouting. “I don't like it, George. He should pay more attention to his reputation.”
“I'm sure it's nothing, Mom.”
“At the very least, you should be more experienced,” his mother continued.
Time to tread carefully. “Sorry, what?”
“Once you see it, you should go straight to your room.”
“I think it's important for me to use that time to apologize.”
“Huh.” His mother did not prepare an answer for that. “Stay only.”
George smiled kindly and began to dismember his flesh. Moments later he heard the sound of footsteps moving towards them, but the steps sounded too heavy for Billie.
Sure enough, when a figure filled the doorway a moment later, the footsteps turned out to belong to the butler. “Lord Arbuthnot coming to see you, Lord Kennard.”
“This spring?” Lady Manston looked shocked.
George put down his napkin with his frowning jaw strained. He had anticipated that he would have to talk to Arbuthnot about last night, but now?
George knew enough about Lord Arbuthnot's affairs to know that they were essentially tinged with secrets and dangers. The fact that the man took his affairs to Manston House is unacceptable, and George has no regrets about telling him.
“She's a friend of Dad's,” George said as he stood up. “I'll find out what she needs.”
“Do I have to accompany you?”
“No, no. I'm sure it's not necessary.”
George walked into the sitting room, his mood getting grim with each step. The appearance of Arbuthnot this morning means only one of two things. First, there was a problem that happened after George left Swan last night and now he is in danger. Or worse, being held responsible.
The bigger possibility, thought George grimly, was that Arbuthnot wanted something from him. Another message to send, maybe.
“Kennard!” greet Lord Arbuthnot cheerfully. “Good work once a night.”
“Why are you here?” sue George.
Arbuthnot blurted at George's rude attitude. “I need to talk to you. Isn't that the reason why one man visits another?”
“This is my home,” hiss George angry.
“Do you say that I am not welcome here?”
“No if you want to discuss last night's events. This is not the right time or place.”
“Ah. Well, I don't want to talk about that, actually. There's nothing to talk about. All ended brilliantly.”
That's not how George describes it. He crossed paths, looking at Arbuthnot sharply, waiting for the man to declare his intentions.
The general cleared his throat. “I came to thank you,” he said. “Dan ask for your help for something else.”
“No,” says George. He doesn't need to hear more. Arbuthnot laughed. “You haven't even—”
“No,” said George again, his anger cutting sharply into his words. “Do you know what I finally did last night?”
“I know, actually.”
“You—What?” This is unexpected. When did Arbuthnot learn of the play that took place in The Swan With No Neck?
“That's a test, Nak.” Arbuthnot patted his back. “You graduated with high grades.”
“Tes,” reworked George, and if Arbuthnot knew him better, he would realize the absence of a change in tone in George's voice was not a good sign.
But Arbuthnot didn't know him well, and he chuckled saying, “You didn't think we'd entrust sensitive information to anyone.”
“I thought you believed me,” furious George.
“No,” replied Arbuthnot with awkward seriousness. “Not even you. After all,” she added, her face turned bright again, “‘Beans, porridge, and pudding?’ Give us a little compliment. We are more creative than that.”
George bit his lip while considering the following actions. Throwing Arbuthnot out was tempting, but so was a well-throwed fist into the jaw.
“All passed,” said Arbuthnot. “Now we need you to send us package.”
“I think it's time you left,” said George.
Arbuthnot was shocked. “This is important.”
“So are peas, porridge, and pudding,” George reminded.
“Yes, yes,” the general said in a dismissive tone, “you have the right to feel abused, but now that we know we can trust you, we need your help.”
George.
“Do it for your sister, Kennard.”
“Don't you dare bring him into this,” hiss George was angry.
“It is too late to be arrogant,” Arbuthnot replied loudly, his friendly attitude began to vanish. “Don't forget you came to me.”
“And you could have rejected my request to help.”
“How do you think we can defeat the enemy?” arbuthnot. “Do you think with all the shiny uniforms and lined up in formation? The real war is won behind the scenes, and if you're too cowardly—”
With lightning fast, George pressed him against the wall. “Don't,” snapped, “makes the mistake of thinking you can embarrass me and make me your errand boy.” His hand tightened on the older man's shoulder, then he abruptly let go.
“I thought you wanted to do your part for the country,” said Arbuthnot, tidying up the suit by pulling the edge.
George nearly bit his own tongue, trying to stop himself from issuing an unfinished reply. He almost said something about how he spent three years wishing he was with his younger brothers, serving with rifles and swords, ready to give his life for the good of England.
He almost said that it made him feel useless, ashamed that he was somehow valued more valuable than his siblings by birth.
But then he thought of Billie, Crake, Aubrey Hall, and everyone there who depended on them. He thought about the harvest time, the village, and his little sister who would soon bring a new generation of firsts into the world.
And he remembered what Billie said, two nights ago.
He stared fixedly at Lord Arbuthnot and said, “If my brothers will risk their lives for King and Country, then by God, I will make sure it is a good King and Country. And that doesn't include bringing messages that I don't know mean to people I don't trust.”
Arbuthnot looked at him seriously. “Do you not believe me?”
“I'm angry that you came to my house.”
“I'm a friend of your father, Lord Kennard. My presence here is not suspicious at all. And that's not what I'm asking. Don't you believe me?”
“You know, Lord Arbuthnot, I don't think it matters.”
And it didn't. George has no doubt that Arbuthnot has fought— and continues to fight, in his own way—by his country. Although George was angry at being the object of the War Office's initiation ritual, he knew that Arbuthnot had asked him to do something, his request was legitimate.
But George also knows—now, at least, he knows—that he is not the right person for the job. He will be a great soldier. But he's a better land manager. And with Billie by his side, he's going to be amazing.
He's getting married soon. Really not for long, if he can do something about it. He had no business running around like a spy, risking his life without really knowing why.
“I will serve in my own way,” he told Arbuthnot.
Arbuthnot sighed, his mouth sneering in surrender. “Good. I'm grateful for your help last night. I realize it ruined your night.”
George thought maybe he finally managed to make the man understand, but then Arbuthnot said, “I only have one more request, Lord Kennard.”
“No,” George tried to say.
“Listen to me,” cut off Arbuthnot. “I swear, I will not ask if the situation is not so critical. I have a package to take to the inn for travelers in Kent. The coast. Not far from your house, I guess.”
“Stop,” George get started.
“No, please, allow me to finish it. If you do this, I promise I won't bother you again. I will be honest, there is danger involved. There are some people who know this package is coming, and they want to stop it. But these documents are very important.” Then Arbuthnot delivers the final blow. “It could even save your sister.”
“I'm not your man,” he said slowly.
That should be the end of the discussion.
It would be the end of the discussion, but then the door slammed open and there, standing in the doorway, eyes glittering full of intention and levity, Billie appeared.
.
BILLIE DIDN'T MEAN EavesdROPPING. He was walking downstairs for breakfast, his hair probably clamped too strongly because of his impatience to see George again, when he heard the man's voice in the sitting room. He assumed the man was with his mother—who else was at Manston House this early?—but then he heard another man's voice, and the man said something about last night.
The night George said he couldn't talk about.
Billie shouldn't have stolen the listen, but really, which girl could have forced herself away? Then the other guy asks George to send him a package, and he says it might help Edward?
Billie couldn't stop herself. All he could think of was—ini Edward. The childhood friend he loved most. If he was ready to fall from the tree to save the ungrateful cat, he could obviously bring a package to an inn on the coast. How difficult? And if it is dangerous, if the job is something that requires wisdom, of course he is a good bait. No one thought a girl would deliver it.
He doesn't think. He doesn't need to think. He just ran in the room and announced, “I'll do it!”
GEORGE DID NOT THINK. He doesn't need to think. “Yang was right,” his roar.
For a moment Billie was sculpting, clearly not expecting a reaction like this. Then he prepared himself and rushed in. “George,” he begs, “what we are talking about is Edward. How could we not do anything—”
George grabbed Billie by the arm and pulled her to the side. “You don't have all the facts,” he hissed.
“I don't need all the facts.”
“You never needed it,” grumbled George.
Billie's eyes narrowed dangerously. “I can do it,” he insists.
Oh, my God, this girl is gonna kill George. “I'm sure you can, but you won't.”
“Tapi—”
“I forbid it.”
Billie was shocked. “You forbid—”
That was when Arbuthnot slowly approached from the side. “I don't think we were introduced last night,” he said with a fatherly smile. “I'm Lord Arbuthnot. I—”
“Get out of my house,” snapped George.
“George!” Billie exclaimed, her face visibly in shock at George's rude attitude.
Arbuthnot turned towards him with a serious expression. “Lady this seems a lot of sense. I think we can—”
“Out!”
“George?” Now her mother appears in the doorway. “What's with these screams? Oh. I'm sorry, Lord Arbuthnot. I didn't see you there.”
“Lady Manston.” The man bowed respectfully. “I'm sorry for my visit that was too early this morning. I have business with your son.”
“She was just about to leave,” George tightened his grip on Billie's arm as the girl began to squirm.
“Let go of me,” growled Billie. “I might be able to help.”
“Or maybe not.”
“Stop,” hiss Billie, pull herself up angrily. “You can't rule me.”
“To make sure I could do it,” George shouted back, his eyes piercing Billie sharply. She'll be her husband, for God's sake. Does that not dare anything?
“But I want to help,” Billie lowered her voice while turning her back to the room.
“Me too, but this is not the way.”
“Maybe this is the only way.”
For a moment George could do nothing but close his eyes. Does this feel like the rest of his life as Billie Bridgerton's husband? Was he destined to live in terror, wondering inwardly into what kind of danger Billie plunged into that day?
Is this comparable?
“George?” billie whisper. He sounds agitated. Did he see anything in George's expression? Signs doubt?
George touched the girl's cheek, and looked into her eyes.
He saw his whole world there.
“I love you,” said.
Someone gasp. Maybe it was his mother.
“I can't live without you,” he said, “and even I refuse to do so. So no, you're not going on an unwise mission to the coast to hand over potentially dangerous packages to people you don't know. Because if something happens to you.” His voice is cut off, but George doesn't care. “If something happens to you, it will kill me. And I want to think you love me too much to let it happen.”
Billie stupefied at George, her softly opened lips trembling as she gnashed with tears. “You love me?” he whispered.
George almost rolled his eyes. “Of course.”
“You never said it.”
“I must have done it.”
“Never. I definitely remember.”
“I also definitely remember it,” said George gently, “if you ever tell me.”
“I love you,” said Billie soon. “Really. I love you so much. I—”
“Thank God,” exclaims Lady Manston.
George and Billie looked over. He doesn't know what Billie is, but he forgets they have an audience.
“Do you know how hard I try? Geez, I thought I should hit you with a stick.”
“You planned this?” asked George in disbelief.
His mother looked at Billie. “Sybilla? Really? Since when do I call you Sybilla?”
George looked at Billie. It was as if he could not stop blinking.
“I've waited so long to call you my daughter,” Lady Manston slipped a tuft of Billie's hair behind her ear.
Billie frowned, her head moving from right to left while trying to make sense of everything. “But I always thought. Or Andrew.”
Lady Manston shook her head with a smile. “Always George, Dear. In my mind, at least.” He turned his head towards his son with a more focused expression. “I hope you've asked her to marry you.”
“I may have sued him,” I'm George.
“More good again.”
George suddenly straightened his body, and looked around the room. “What happened to Lord Arbuthnot?”
“She asked herself when you two started to express love,” her mother replied.
Well, thought George. Maybe the old man was smarter than he thought.
“Omong-by the way, why is he here?” ask Lady Manston.
“It doesn't matter,” replied George. Then he looked at his fiancee.
“Not important,” he approves.
“Well,” Lady Manston announced with a beaming smile, “I can't wait to tell everyone. Billington will have a dance party next week and—”
“Can't we go home?” cut Billie.
“But you had fun last night,” Lady Manston replied. He looked towards George. “He danced at every dance. Everyone loves it.”
George smiled patiently. “I'm not at all surprised.”
Lady Manston turns to Billie. “We can make an announcement at Billington dance. That would be a win.”
Billie reached out and squeezed George's hand. “It already feels like that.”
“Are you sure?” ask George. Billie was so worried about her London debut. There's nothing she'd rather have than come home to Kent, but Billie deserves to enjoy her success.
“I'm sure,” said Billie. “It's intoxicating. And it's nice to know when I have to attend events where I can do well and have fun. But that's not what I like. I'd rather go home.”
“Using trousers?” goda George's.
“Only when I was in the field.” He looked at Lady Manston. “Calon countess must be prompt.”
Lady Manston chuckled at it. “You will be a great countess, although not too fast, I hope.”
“No to many years,” sahut Billie warm.
“And you,” said Lady Manston, staring at George with teary eyes, “my son. You look happier than I've seen in a very long time.”
“Indeed,” sahut. “I just hope..”
“You can say his name,” said his mother softly.
“I know.” George tilted his body forward and peeked at his cheek. “Edward must accept missing this wedding, because I won't wait for him to come home.”
“No, I guess it's best not,” said Lady Manston, in a corresponding tone of voice that left Billie's face reddish.
“But we will find it,” said George. She still clasped Billie's hand, so she took her to her lips and dipped her vow into the girl's skin. “I promise.”
“I think we'll go home to Kent, then,” his mother said. “We can even leave today if you want.”
“Oh, it's brilliant!” exclamation Billie. “Do you think my mom would be surprised?”
“Not at all.”
“What?” billie's mouth was gaping wide. “But I hate George!”
“No, you don't hate me,” said George.
Billie gave him a sharp delicacy. “You make me so annoyed.”
“You're like a big rock inside my shoes.”
“Well, you—”
“What is this competition?” ask Lady Manston in disbelief.
George looked at Billie, and as the girl smiled, her smile filled George's soul. “Not,” he said gently, pulling Billie into his arms, “we are one team.”
Billie looked up at him with a love that almost took George's breath away. “Mother,” said George without taking his eyes off his fiancee, “maybe you want to leave the room now.”
“What?”
“I'll kiss him now.”
Mother screech. “You can't do it.”
“I'm pretty sure I can.”
“George, you're not married!”
He looked at Billie's lips with the hot gaze of an expert. “More and more reasons to speed things up,” he murmured.
“Billie,” said Lady Manston firmly, and turned her attention to what she clearly considers to be the weakest chain, “ayo.”
But Billie just shook her head. “I'm sorry, but as he says. We are one team.”
Then, because she was Billie Bridgerton and she never minded being in control, she stuck her fingers in George's hair and pulled her mouth closer.
And because he was George Rokesby, and he would love Billie for the rest of his life, he returned his kiss.
