“I was going to say ‘rest,’” he told her.
“I’ve done that.”
Well done, Lady Manston, he thought. Funny how his mother still managed to surprise him with her resilience.
“I was thinking,” his mother began, walking past him into the drawing room. “Oh, hello, Billie, I did not realize you were here.”
“Lady Manston.” Billie bobbed a curtsy. “I was hoping I might be of some assistance.”
“That is very kind of you. I’m not sure what can be done, but your company is always appreciated.” Lady Manston’s head tilted to the side. “Is it very windy out?”
“What?” Billie’s hand flew self-consciously to her hair. “Oh. Yes, a bit. I forgot my bonnet.”
They all looked at the bonnet she’d left on a table.
“What I meant to say was that I forgot to put it on,” Billie said with a nervous chuckle that George dearly hoped his mother did not detect. “Or rather, truthfully, I didn’t forget. The air was so very fine.”
“I won’t tell your mother,” Lady Manston said with an indulgent smile.
Billie nodded her thanks, and then an awkward silence fell over the room. Or maybe it wasn’t awkward at all. Maybe George only thought it was awkward, because he knew what Billie was thinking, and he knew what he was thinking, and it seemed impossible somehow that his mother could be thinking of anything else.
But apparently she was, because she looked at him with a smile he knew was forced, and asked, “Have you given further thought to going to London?”
“Some,” he replied. “I know a few people at the War Office.”
“George was thinking of traveling to London to make inquiries,” his mother said to Billie.
“Yes, he’d told me. It’s an excellent idea.”
Lady Manston gave a tiny nod and turned back to George. “Your father knows people as well, but…”
“I can go,” George said swiftly, saving his mother the pain of having to describe her husband’s current state of incapacitation.
“You probably know the same people,” Billie said.
George glanced over. “Just so.”
“I believe I will go with you,” his mother said.
“Mother, no, you should stay home,” George immediately said. “Father will need you, and it will be easier for me to do what needs to be done on my own.”
“Don’t be silly. Your father doesn’t need anything but news of his son, and I can’t do anything to further that cause from here.”
“And you will in London?”
“Probably not,” she admitted, “but at least there is a chance.”
“I’m not going to be able to accomplish anything if I’m worried about you.”
His mother raised one perfectly arched brow. “Then don’t worry.”
He grit his teeth. There was no arguing with her when she was like this, and the truth was, he wasn’t even sure why he didn’t want his mother to come with him. Just this strange, niggling feeling that some things were best done alone.
“It will all work out,” Billie said, trying to smooth over the tension between mother and son. George shot her a look of gratitude, but he didn’t think she saw it. She was more like her own mother than anyone gave her credit for, he realized. She was a peacemaker, in her own inimitable way.
He watched as she took one of his mother’s hands in hers. “I know that Edward will come home to us,” she said with a light squeeze.
A warm, almost homey sense of pride swirled through him. And he could have sworn he could feel her, giving his hand a squeeze as well.
“You’re such a dear, Billie,” his mother said. “You and Edward were always so close.”
“My best friend,” Billie said. “Well, besides Mary, of course.”
George crossed his arms. “Don’t forget Andrew.”
She glanced over at him with a frown.
Lady Manston leaned forward and kissed Billie on the cheek. “What I wouldn’t give to see you and Edward together one more time.”
“And you shall,” Billie said firmly. “He will be home – if not soon, then at least eventually.” She gave an excellent approximation of a reassuring smile. “We will be together again. I know it.”
“We will all be together again,” George said peevishly.
Billie gave him another frown, this one considerably more remonstrative.
“I keep seeing his face,” his mother said. “Every time I close my eyes.”
“I do, too,” Billie admitted.
George saw red. He’d just bloody kissed her – and he was fairly certain her eyes had been closed.
“George?” his mother inquired.
“What?” he bit off.
“You made a noise.”
“I cleared my throat,” he lied. Had Billie been thinking of Edward when she kissed him? No, she wouldn’t do that. Or would she? How would he know? And could he blame her? If she had been thinking of Edward, it wasn’t anything she’d done on purpose.
Which somehow made it even worse.
He watched as Billie spoke quietly with his mother. Was she in love with Edward? No, she couldn’t be. Because if she was, Edward would never have been so foolish as to not return the affection. And if that were the case, they’d be married by now.
Besides, Billie had said she had not been kissed. And Billie didn’t lie.
Edward was a gentleman – maybe even more of one than George, after the events of today – but if he was in love with Billie, there was no way he’d have left for America without kissing her.