Billie sat on her hands. She actually sat on her hands, she was so sure she would not be able to resist the urge to throw herself off the roof in an attempt to strangle him.
I do. Tell her, he said to the room.Spence shrugged noncommittally. Archer’s are better.
Archer grinned. Damn straight.Elle let out a rare smile. I like her too, she said to Archer.It’s not about my legs, Finn said to Pru. Shit, and now he sounded defensive.
Maybe you should prove it, she said casually and Archer choked again.Willa bounced up and down in her seat, clapping. It’s like Christmas!
We’re keeping her, right? Spence asked.
Hey, Sean said, bringing them another pitcher of beer. If a lady wanted to see my legs, I’d show her. Just sayin’.Billie gave him a bit of an evil eye, which only made him laugh with more vigor.
Is that one of Mary’s gowns? Lady Bridgerton asked.Billie nodded. I was in breeches.
Her mother sighed but made no comment. It was an endless argument between them, and their truce was maintained only by Billie’s promise to always dress properly for dinner. And among guests. And at church.There was actually a rather long list of events for which she was required to attire herself to her mother’s specifications. But in the matter of Billie wearing breeches while conducting business around the estate, Lady Bridgerton had acquiesced.