Chapter Five
Damian narrowed his eyes in an attempt to intimidate Georgie enough that she would give in and remain in the office, but he could tell by the unwavering determination in her brown eyes that she was not going to relent.
He should have already realized her fortitude since she did stowaway on one of their ships.
“You will stay by my side and you will not draw attention to yourself,” he ordered. “I do not want to fight anyone because they get it into their mind that a miss being in Sailortown was there for one reason.”
“If I had my hat nobody would know,” she returned. “Unfortunately, I lost it when you tossed me over your shoulder.”
“You tossed her over your shoulder!” Caroline exclaimed in alarm, but Damian ignored her. “Had you not kept trying to run off, I would not have had to carry you back here,” he nearly yelled.
“Take mine!”
Sterling tossed a worn, leather hat that he’d brought back from his travels and sometimes wore on the docks to keep the sun out of his eyes.
“Thank you.” Georgie accepted the hat, which was a bit large for her, then shoved her braids underneath, before she adjusted her clothing. “Nobody will ever know that I am a female.”
“Unless they look at your bum,” Livia announced.
“Livia,” Caroline chastised her daughter.
Thankfully men did not make it a habit at looking at the buttocks of other men unless they had no interest in women, which for some sailors, was the case.
Therefore, if a sailor might study hers, they would realize that Georgie was female and thus have no interest. Or so Damian hoped because if he did not take her, she would go on her own, which would be far too dangerous.
“You will do as I say without question.”
Damian turned and marched back down the stairs and assumed that she followed and would obey. When he reached the street, he hailed a hackney, then gave directions before he and Georgie were seated inside.
The drive was not long and soon the hackney stopped before a four-story building, the outside weathered from being so close to the sea.
A few windows were broken and boarded over.
He stepped from the hackney and started to assist Georgie but thought better of it.
He could not let on that she was a female and there was no conceivable reason why he would assist a man.
“Please wait,” Damian instructed the driver because he had no intention of being here any longer than necessary.
Georgie stepped from the hackney and looked up at the building, then around the area where prostitutes walked the street and taverns were on every corner. Maybe she now understood why he had argued against her accompanying him.
“He is on the second floor,” Damian said and started forward, though he remained very much aware of where Georgie was. He should have let her go first, but he did not know what awaited them inside and thought it would be safer for her to be behind.
Every instinct within wanted to offer his arm and keep her close, but again, if anyone were watching them, they would assume she was a man and Damian did not want to invite speculation or further attention. “Stay close,” he whispered.
“I will,” she promised in a shaky voice.
They slowly walked up the worn stairs, some in such ill repair that a few boards were broken, which was the reason he held tight to the balustrade so that he wouldn’t fall through if a step gave way. He glanced behind to see that Georgie did as well.
They saw no one inside the building but various sounds of yelling, laughing, and what he assumed were grunts from intimacy bled through the thin walls but he assumed that Georgie didn’t know what she was hearing.
They finally paused before the door where Fisher was supposed to live and knocked. A moment later it was answered by a Mr. Locke, carpenter for Trade Wynd, his arm in a sling and crutch under his other. He had fallen from a mast and was lucky that he had not been killed.
“Mr. Wynd.” The man’s eyes widened and he stumbled back. “Am I to return to work?”
“Not until the doctor allows it,” Damian answered. “We are looking for Harold Fisher.”
“He is not here,” Locke answered.
“Do you know where he is?”
“London.”
Georgie gasped. “What is he doing in London?”
“A woman came around almost a week ago looking for him. He was surprised and then, well, happy. Packed his belongings and said that the two of them were off to London.”
“Who was this woman?” Georgie asked.
Locke frowned and squinted to look at her closer. Had Georgie remained quiet, Locke may still think her a man, though slight.
“I was never told her name,” he finally answered.
“What did she look like?” Georgie asked.
“About your height, I suppose. Brown eyes. Brown hair.” He shrugged. “I really did not pay that much attention.”
“Did he say when he would be back?” Damian asked.
“He is not coming back. He plans on finding a ship that will let him work while the woman goes along as a passenger. He thought it would be the only way they could afford to sail to America.”
“America?” Georgie’s voice rose with alarm.
Locke shrugged. “He did not tell me why. I assumed it was the miss who wanted to sail there, but it was clear he was smitten and Fisher would probably do anything she asked.”
If that were true, and if it was Grace, then Fisher wouldn’t have left Carrera.
Unless he hadn’t realized it was love until he was gone and feared that the only way they could be together was to be on another continent.
But even that was far-fetched. Why would either of them want to sail to America?
Damian turned away having received the information that he had come for, though he would have preferred to find Fisher and Georgie’s sister.
He then faced Locke again. “Have you always shared a set of rooms with Fisher?” It was unusual for sailors to live with employees who worked on ships but never left port.
“Him and about ten others.” He laughed. “They pay me a small portion of rent to keep their belongings here where they will be safe and there are a few spare beds for when they are in port. I never know who is going to be here or when.”
Damian nodded, impressed with the solution. “Thank you for the information.”
“You are welcome, Mr. Wynd.”
“What is the easiest way to get to London?” Georgie asked as soon as they were back in the hackney.
“Carriage,” he answered. If he gave her instructions, she would be on her way the moment the hackney delivered them to their destination.
“How far is London from here?”
“Approximately seventy-five miles.”
She slouched in her seat. “It is not so far. I will find a way.”
He had no doubt that she would.
As much as Georgie was an irritant, Damian had to reluctantly admit that there was something admirable about her determination.
*
By the time they neared Trade Wynd it was late into the afternoon and her stomach ached from hunger.
As soon as she was out of the carriage, Georgie would find a room at an inn, have a meal, and hopefully a bath, then plan.
As much as she wanted to leave for London today, it would be foolish to do so when she wasn’t certain how she would get there and it was too far to walk if she wanted to arrive there quickly.
Though, it might already be too late.
What if Fisher had already found a position on a ship and he and Grace had already set sail for America?
Would she then need to book passage for herself? Except, if she did so, there would not be enough funds to return to Italy for herself, let alone her and Grace.
Sailing from Carrera as a stowaway had been difficult enough and she knew that she couldn’t manage to do so for as long as it would take to cross the Atlantic.
Besides, how would she even find her sister in such a vast country? Even if Georgie knew the destination of the ship, did that mean Fisher and Grace would remain in that town?
She could be chasing after her sister for years.
No, she would not. If she learned that Grace had indeed sailed for America, she would return home and inform her father. He could decide if they would follow.
And, if the two had gone off to America together, then would she really need to worry about her sister? If Fisher didn’t want Grace, and if she had only been an amusement in Italy, then he would have turned her out, rejected her, not taken her anywhere.
That alone gave Georgie comfort, but she would not fully relax until she knew for certain what had become of Grace.
When the hackney turned away from the port and Trade Wynd, she sat forward. “Where are we going?”
“Wyndview Hall,” Damian answered.
“Your home?” she asked in alarm.
“It belongs to Wyndham, but I live there as well.”
Panic rose in her chest. “Why are you taking me there?” She really needed to find her sister and not be held prisoner.
“Was there somewhere else you needed to be tonight? Or did you plan to start walking to London immediately?”
“I was going to find an inn.”
“You will stay at Wyndview Hall.”
“It is not your home to invite me to.”
“Sterling will not mind, nor will Caroline or Livia,” he informed her. “Besides, if my brother found out that I left you alone in an inn, he would send me back to get you.”
“You cannot know that for certain.”
He arched an auburn eyebrow. “I do. Nor could I leave you there in good conscience.”
While she appreciated the offer, Georgie needed to be free to make plans and she could not do that if Damian was going to be dictating where she went and when. It was her sister and all she had done was hide on one of his ships. She was not his responsibility.
“What if I do not want to stay there?”
He snorted. “You assume you have a choice.”
Anger rose instantly. “I do and can choose to do what I want. I am a grown woman.”
He snorted and shook his head as if he did not believe her. “A foolish one.”
“I am not,” she insisted, crossing her arms over her breast. “I am only doing what is necessary to save my sister.”
“I know but do it in a way that I do not need to spend the night worrying about you.”
Georgie gasped. “I am not your responsibility. Forget that I ever got on one of your ships and let me out of this hackney.”
Damian blew out a heavy sigh. “At least remain long enough for a hot meal and then we can discuss your options for traveling to London.”
She was hungry and the very idea of a real meal that was not dried meat and bread made her stomach grumble. And he did likely know the most efficient route to London. She would be a fool to turn down his offer. “I will remain until I have a solid plan and then you will never have to see me again.”
“Somehow I do not think I will ever forget you though,” he grumbled as he glanced out the window.
Soon, the town was behind them as they drove into the country and then turned down a long, tree-lined drive before they arrived at a light, stone Elizabethan house that rose four stories with large windows, several chimneys, and decorative stonework.
She had never been inside such a wealthy residence before and suddenly became very much aware of not only her appearance but from where she came, the daughter of an Italian baker.
Oh, she should have made Damian leave her at an inn where she belonged.
When the hackney stopped, Demain stepped out, paid the driver, then assisted Georgie to the ground before leading her up the steps to the door, which was opened immediately, and led her into a bright, marble entry.
“Did you find her?” Lady Wyndham asked as she was coming down the stairs.
Before Georgie could answer, Damian explained.
“I am certain that you will have better luck tomorrow.”
Just knowing that there was nothing she could do for now prompted Georgie’s body to relax as exhaustion came over her. It had been a trying three weeks from the moment she left Italy, hid on a ship, and then arrived here only to encounter Damian Wynd, and she still hadn’t found her sister.
Lady Wyndham linked her arm with Georgia’s. “Now, come along and we will get you settled into a chamber.”
“That is not necessary.” This was an earl’s home. She did not belong here.
“Nonsense. Livia tells me that you hid behind marble on the ship all the way from Carrera. Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“You must be exhausted and likely want a bath. I certainly would.”
“A bath would be wonderful.” And she would also love to wash her hair.
She had been limited in how often she risked washing, and had rarely gone above with a spare bucket, usually in the middle of the night, to retrieve water and bring it back down.
But nothing was a good substitute for a real bath.
“Then that is what you shall have. I will instruct the housekeeper to have the tub delivered to your chamber right away and filled with water.”
“I have already prevailed too much.”
“I insist!” Lady Wyndham said as she escorted Georgie into a yellow-and-mauve chamber with a large bed in the center of the room and a stone fireplace on the opposite wall, a fire already built and burning.
“You get settled and the bath will be along shortly. Dinner will be in a few hours.”
She had hoped that it would be sooner, but Georgie had gone much longer without sustenance and she could wait.
“I will also ask that tea and biscuits be delivered since it is likely you have not eaten since earlier today.”
The last time she had food was right before they docked. That had been hours ago.
Georgie glanced around. “Do you always keep a room at the ready for guests?” She understood an extra bedchamber in the home of an earl, but a fire had already been built.
“I assumed that Damian would bring you back, and your sister, if she was found, and that you would need a place to stay until you could book passage home,” she answered.
She had presumed a lot.
“It is better and safer here than it would be at an inn and you have already endured enough because of a Trade Wynd sailor.”
“None of that is your fault.”
“My husband and Damian carry the weight of responsibility regardless, even though you and I know that they cannot control every man they employ, especially when they are far away.”
“Thank you for your kindness,” Georgie finally said because she did appreciate having a safe place, without having to spend any of her precious funds.
Georgie wandered to the window after Lady Wyndham left her alone and looked out into the dark night. “Oh, Grace, where are you?”