Chapter Fifteen
As they prepared to leave the house, Cook provided a satchel filled with food and two bottles of wine to see them on the journey, much to Damian’s appreciation, then he and Georgie set out for The Swan with Two Necks, ready to board the mail coach an hour before it was set to leave.
Georgie was the one who had insisted on an early arrival because she did not want to be stuck sitting between two strangers, nor did Damian.
And he was grateful she hadn’t forced him to leave any earlier. Still, he made a point to remain outside, away from any of the burning lamps, and kept his hat pulled low. He hated gossip—pure and simple—and hoped to keep it at bay.
However, he was just about to ignore his earlier concerns and accompany Georgie inside for an ale when the driver arrived and announced that it was time to board the coach.
“Where are the others?” Damian asked. Mail coaches were always full.
“There are none. Just you two.”
“Are you certain?” He thought they had been lucky to obtain passage first in Southampton, and then to Liverpool on such short notice since passage was often secured days, and sometimes weeks, in advance.
That was also something he had been careful not to tell Georgie, given she grew agitated waiting to learn if they would be leaving that night.
“It is unusual, but there will be no other passengers leaving from this inn.”
That didn’t mean that others wouldn’t be picked up at the other coaching inns and the mail coach could have passengers aplenty when they next stopped.
*
Georgie took the seat she had occupied once before and Damian sat across from her.
As the coach pulled away, Damian blew out a sigh but said nothing.
This was uncomfortable.
Even though they had been practically living in each other’s pocket, their conversations often involved how they would travel or planning for what they would do next. They had rarely spoken of anything else. Well, other than when he claimed that wine was in his blood.
Now it was just the two of them, sitting on opposite benches, and having nothing to say.
Was this how the next twenty-four hours would be?
It was probably best if they did not speak since they tended to argue, or at least he tried to tell her what to do.
He turned his head to glance out the window, not that there was much to see.
It had grown dark and the small lamp just inside the door did not offer enough illumination beyond the carriage, but it did bathe the interior and she was able to admire Damian’s profile.
Straight nose and high cheekbones casting shadows at the side of his face, firm and disapproving lips.
Even his clothing bespoke of power and privilege.
When they had first traveled from Southampton, he was dressed as every other man, in brown trousers, suitcoat and waistcoat.
Understated and nothing that would draw attention.
However, this evening, he had changed when he prepared for his travels and now wore buff trousers tucked in the hessian boots, blue-and-cream waistcoat and darker-blue suitcoat.
Beneath her wore a white linen shirt with a simple, tucked away cravat.
However, she still preferred how he had appeared when they first met, simply wearing trousers and a shirt, open at the neck.
Goodness, he was a fine specimen of a man. No wonder those two women yesterday had openly admired his form, as she was doing right now.
There was strength in Damian from his jaw to the cords in his neck, his arms, and she recalled the muscles in his chest when they first met.
It really was a shame that they did not get along, or maybe it was for the best because she could not recall being so physically attracted to anyone in a very long time.
In fact, after her last failed relationship, Georgie didn’t expect to experience longing again.
It was wrong, especially when she should be worried about her sister, which she was, but if Georgie did not find something else to occupy her mind, she would worry herself sick.
With those thoughts she reached into her satchel and retrieved the book she had purchased yesterday then scooted closer to the lamp so that she could read.
“Is it still riveting?” Damian asked after they had ridden in silence for nearly half of an hour.
“Enthralling,” she lied.
“Truly?”
Georgie closed the book. “No.”
Damian chuckled. “Then why continue to read it?”
“Because you were staring out the window.”
“I apologize. It was rude of me.”
It was, but she did not tell him so. “You are not here to entertain me, but as my self-appointed guard.”
“I prefer to be your guide since you are unfamiliar with England.”
“You are unfamiliar with Liverpool, yet that is where we are going.”
“Yes, but there are people I know.”
In that he was correct and she did need his assistance. “Thank you. I would not have gotten this far without you.”
“It was my pleasure, Georgie.”
She couldn’t help but smirk. “No, it was not. You did not want to come with me.”
He stared at her for a moment then he gave the slightest smile as he shook his head and chuckled. “That might have been the case two days ago, but I may have changed my mind.”
It was probably because he would get the chance to visit Liverpool. She was certain that it had nothing to do with being her travel companion.
Knowing that she did not want to continue reading her book, she placed it back in the satchel.
“Since we have established that you have not been to Liverpool, where have you been?” she asked.
“My travels have been rather limited,” he answered.
“They certainly cannot be more limited than mine.” Damian determined where ships sailed every day, therefore she was certain he had visited some of those places.
“Since I have become an adult, I have traveled to and from London.”
Georgia waited for him to mention more locations, but when he did not, she was nearly at a loss for words. “Are you saying that I have traveled farther than you.”
“Since I reached my majority, yes, I am.”
She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, opened again, but could not think of a single thing to say to his shocking statement. He was around ships every day, how could he have only visited London?
And he was a male and could go anywhere he wished without anyone questioning or discouraging him and telling him that it was too dangerous to travel alone.
It was a travesty, that is what it was.
“Well then, it is a good thing that you have decided to be my guard so you can at least visit somewhere else.”
Damian chuckled. “Yes, well, I suppose I should thank you.”
“Yes, you should.” She said with a firm nod.
Then she realized what he had said. He’d only traveled to London since he became an adult. “Where did you travel before you came into your majority?”
“Do you mean outside of Eton College and Cambridge?”
“Cambridge is university, correct?”
Damian nodded.
“What is Eton.”
“A boarding school for boys before they are old enough to attend Cambridge.”
Yes, now she remembered that boys of gentry were sent away to school at around the age of twelve and only allowed home for holiday about four times a year.
“Where is Eton located?”
“Windsor, which is really not far from London.”
“Does that mean that Cambridge is not far from London either?” If so, then Damian really had not traveled even when he was younger.
“It is the University of Cambridge, meaning it is located in Cambridge, which is roughly sixty miles from London.”
It still did not seem right that he had traveled so little, and unfair.
“Have you truly not been anywhere else? What of, oh what are they called for young men…a Grand Tour?”
“England was at war with Napoleon when I would have considered such and decided to remain in England.” He glanced out the window.
“Besides, my father was teaching me all that I needed to know to run Trade Wynd, then he died not long after I had completed my schooling. I was one-and-twenty when Trade Wynd became my responsibility.”
That was terribly young to have so much placed on his shoulders.
“I was prepared,” he said as if he knew what she was thinking. “When not away at school, I was learning from my father either at home, but more often at the offices, working late into the night, rising with the sun, touring the docks, and learning all wisdom that he could impart.”
“Then you were never really given the opportunity to travel.”
Damian had been thrust into responsibility beyond what most could begin to understand.
“It is a shame that you have access to so many ships but have never ventured somewhere fascinating.”
Damian chuckled. “Where would you like to visit that is fascinating?”
“I have not given it much thought.” She lied with a shrug, because she did want to visit somewhere that was not Italy, such as India, but it was impossible. “Though, if we do not catch up with my sister before she sails, I might be traveling to America.”
Damian arched a brow, more of an indication that he would not be joining her.
“Is it because you do not like to sail?” Georgie asked. “Which, well, would seem rather odd given your profession.”
This time he laughed.
“I do not mind sailing, though long trips can be tedious, such as the one I vaguely remember when my family sailed from Cape Colony to Southampton when I was all of ten.”
He had told her that he hadn’t been anywhere besides London and Cambridge. Though, maybe he did not see that as travel for adventure or holiday because he had been so young.
“Had your family been to visit Wyndview Farm—the vineyard?”
“I was born there,” he answered as if it wasn’t a revelation. One that surprised her. She had assumed he’d been born and raised in England.
“Is that where you lived until you were ten or did you travel back and forth?”
“I spent the first ten years of my life at Wyndview Farm and assumed that I would learn about making and shipping wine while Sterling was to be trained to be the estate manager. But when an uncle died before he could father an heir, my father became the Earl of Wyndham and we were required to return to England. With the title came the responsibility of Trade Wynd. While he trained Sterling for the earldom, he trained me for Trade Wynd.”
“Have you ever wanted to return?”
“I did think to visit, when I was younger, but my father prohibited it, and then, when he was gone, I never found a time that I could be away for so long.”
Why would a father prohibit a son from visiting the home of his birth, or a vineyard that they owned?
It was a question that Georgie did not feel comfortable asking, and likely none of her concern, but that did not stop her curiosity.
He dismissed his life as nothing more than England and running an import-and-export business, and while she admired his responsibilities, it saddened her that his life was so limited.
Nearly as limiting as hers.