“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
His head turned slowly, as if even his muscles could not believe what they’d heard.
“I said I’m sorry,” she repeated, louder this time. It felt like an antidote, but it was the right thing to do. But God help him if he made her say it again, because there was only so much of her pride she could swallow before she choked on it. And he ought to know that.
Because he was just the same.
His eyes met hers, and then they both looked down, and then after a few moments George said, “We are neither of us at our best just now.”
Billie swallowed. She thought maybe she ought to say something more, but her judgment had not done her any favors thus far, so instead she nodded, vowing that she was going to keep her mouth shut until —
“Andrew?” George whispered.
Billie snapped to attention.
“Andrew!” George all but bellowed.
Billie’s eyes did a frantic scan of the trees at the far end of the field, and sure enough… “Andrew!” she screamed, reflexively starting to rise before remembering her ankle.
“Ow!” she yelped, plunking back down on her bottom.
George did not spare her so much as a glance. He was too busy over by the edge of the roof, waving his arms through the air in wide, vigorous swoops.
There was no way Andrew could miss them, hollering like a pair of deranged banshees, but if he picked up his pace, Billie couldn’t see it. But that was Andrew. She should probably be glad he hadn’t fallen over with laughter at their predicament.
This was not something he was going to let either of them forget.
“Ahoy there!” Andrew called out, once he’d halved the distance between them.
Billie glanced over at George. She could only see him in profile, but he looked visibly relieved at his brother’s appearance. Also, oddly grim. No not odd at all, she realized. Whatever ribbing she was going to get from Andrew, George would suffer it a hundredfold.
Andrew drew closer, a spring in his step despite the sling on his arm. “Of all the delightful surprises,” he declared, his face nearly split by his grin. “If I thought and thought and thought…”
He stopped, holding up one elegant forefinger, the universal sign, Billie realized, to ask for a moment’s pause. Then he tipped his head as if getting back into the swing of things, and said, “and thought —”
“Oh, for the love of Christ,” George growled.
“All that thinking for years…” Andrew chortled. “I still couldn’t have come up with —”
“Just get us off the bloody roof,” George snapped.
Billie rather sympathized with his tone.
“I’ve always thought the two of you would make a splendid pair,” Andrew said slyly.
“Andrew,” Billie growled.
He rewarded her with a purse-lipped smile. “Truly, you needn’t have gone to such extremes for a moment of privacy. The rest of us would have been more than happy to oblige.”
“Stop it,” Billie ordered.
Andrew looked up, laughing even as he affected a frown. “Do you really want to take that tone, Billie-goat? I am the one on terra firma.”
“Please, Andrew,” she said, trying her very best to be civil and reasonable. “We would very much appreciate your help.”
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Andrew murmured.
“I’m going to kill him,” she said under her breath.
“I’m going to break his other arm,” George muttered.
Billie choked down a laugh. There was no way that Andrew could have heard them, but she looked down at him, anyway, and that was when she realized he was frowning, his good hand on his hip.
“What is it now?” George demanded.
Andrew stared down at the ladder, his mouth twisting into a curious frown. “I’m not sure if it has occurred to either of you, but this isn’t the sort of thing that’s easy to do one-handed.”
“Take it out of the sling,” George said, but his last words were drowned out by Billie’s shriek of “Don’t take it out of the sling!”
“Do you really want to stay on the roof?” George hissed.
“And have him reinjure his arm?” she returned. They might have joked about breaking Andrew’s good arm, but really. The man was a sailor in the navy. It was essential that his bone healed properly.
“You’d marry me for the sake of his arm?”
“I’m not going to marry you,” she shot back. “Andrew knows where we are. He can go get help if we need it.”
“By the time he gets back with an able-bodied man, we’ll have been up here alone for several hours.”
“And I suppose you’ve such a high opinion of your male prowess that you think people will believe you managed to compromise me on a roof.”
“Believe me,” George hissed, “any man with sense would know you are thoroughly uncompromisable.”
Billie’s brows came together for a second of confusion. Was he complimenting her moral rectitude? But then —
Oh!
“You are despicable,” she seethed. Since that was her only choice of reply. Somehow she didn’t think – You have no idea how many men would like to compromise me would earn her any points for dignity and wit.
Or honesty.
“Andrew,” George called down, in that haughty I-am-the-eldest-son voice of his, “I will pay you one hundred pounds to take off that sling and fix the ladder into place.”
One hundred pounds?
Billie turned on him with wild disbelief. “Are you insane?”