Chapter Twenty
They rode the rest of the night without incident and when they had reached the halfway point in their journey, the driver announced that they would be stopping for longer. It was likely so that he could eat, as had been the case when they had traveled from Southampton.
Though it was morning, Damian hoped that there were shops open. It helped that they had stopped in the larger town of Birmingham.
“Come along,” he said as she exited the coach.
“Are we off to break our fast.”
“No,” Damian answered. “We are off to shop.”
“We only have thirty minutes,” she reminded him.
“The last time you were able to purchase a book and eat, therefore we should have no difficulty.”
Georgie snorted. “Purchases made in a rush are often regretted.”
“Yes, well, we are not going to buy a book.” He tugged on her arm so that she might walk quicker, then led her down a street of shops, which were thankfully open, then entered one that appeared to carry accessories that a woman would want such as hats, parasols, scarves, and gloves.
Those he had viewed from the window and assumed there would be reticules inside.
He then led her to a row of shelves where they were on display.
“Chose one,” he practically ordered.
Georgie lifted one then read the tag before placing it back on the shelf. “It is not a necessary purchase.”
Damian shook his head. He understood that she did not want to spend her precious funds, or he believed that was the case.
He had never needed to worry about how much he spent on any item, though he did tend not to waste funds on frivolous items, which was likely how Georgie viewed purchasing a reticule since she claimed not to need one.
But, as time was precious, and he did not want to waste it arguing with her, Damian chose one for her, walked to the clerk, paid for it, then escorted Georgie back out of the shop, down the walk, and back toward the coaching inn where he hoped to purchase something to eat before the boarded the mail coach again.
“It does match your waistcoat and is quite fetching.” She smiled. “It even matches your eyes.”
Damian ignored her taunt and led Georgie to a bench.
“Sit!”
She arched a dark eyebrow but did not argue with him.
He then took a seat beside her and opened the reticule. “Place your funds in here.”
“Why do you believe they will be safer in a reticule than my satchel, where it is buried?”
“A satchel is easier to open. The reticule can be slipped on your wrist and it has a drawstring, which is nearly impossible to open without alerting the wearer.”
Georgie blew out a sigh but did not argue because she knew that he was correct.
“Are you this familiar with all women’s accessories?” she asked as she dug into her satchel.
Damian’s face heated. He was quite familiar with what women carried and wore, down to the silken stockings that caressed their thighs.
Did Georgie wear silk stockings?
He supposed she was not now, since she was dressed in a most practical manner, but he would like to see her in silk stockings, held about her thighs by delicate ribbons that were easy to untie and slide down her leg.
Bloody hell!
He needed to find Georgie’s sister as soon as possible and before he entertained any more thoughts of seduction because if they were not separated soon, he just might act on his desires.
“Ah, you do.” She grinned. “That blush is nearly as complementary as the reticule.”
Bloody hell!
“Hurry up,” he grumbled as she withdrew her funds from the bottom of her satchel, while he made note that there were not that many notes but there were coins.
He just could not tell how much she carried.
She then placed her money into the reticule and pulled the drawstring closed and slipped it onto her wrist.
“Are you happy now?”
“I will be happy when we reach Liverpool,” he muttered as he stood, irritated with himself for wanting her even though he knew that she could not be his.
Besides, such action would require a more permanent relationship and he had only known Georgie for four days.
Four days since she snuck off his ship!
They might not even suit, therefore it was better to just keep his thoughts and desires to himself or be damned in the future.
*
Damian was correct about the reticule being easier to protect her funds, but she would not tell him so.
It was also pretty, light blue, as was his waistcoat, with ecru lace, and did match his eyes.
The two she had at home were more serviceable and more of a drawstring pouch than a fashionable accessory.
She was also happy to have it since it would accompany her back to Italy and whenever she saw it, she would be reminded of the time she chased her sister across England with likely the most handsome man she would ever meet.
Oh, he was more than handsome and simply being in his presence warmed her down to her core and she wanted to experience so much more with Damian than riding in a mail coach.
What would it be like to…
No. She would not finish that thought. She was in England to find Grace, not take a temporary lover.
When they reached the coaching inn, there were too many people gathered inside to wait on food and Georgie knew that they would not be fed.
Her stomach grumbled because it had been hours since she had dined in London.
Damian had only stopped at the door long enough to look inside then led her to another bench not far from where the mail coach was stopped and placed his satchel between them. He first withdrew a boiled egg.
She had forgotten that Cook had prepared foodstuff items for their journey.
He handed Georgie an egg and she broke and discarded the shell before she took a bite.
“I will return in a moment.”
She nodded because her mouth was full and it would have been rude to speak, though she found it surprising that he would leave her alone.
Georgie looked inside the satchel to see what else Cook may have packed.
There was another bottle of Wynd Wine at the bottom, more eggs, bread and rolls, and dried meats.
All looked appetizing, but she wanted something to drink more than she wanted to eat, but not wine. That would not satisfy her thirst.
Just as she was to decide if she should eat a piece of bread, Damian returned with two pints of ale and handed her one.
It was exactly what she needed and she nearly drank half of it before she returned to the food items in the satchel and took a piece of dried meat and bit into it.
There was saltiness and it was tough, as most dried meats were, but it would suffice for their current situation.
Heaven knew she had dined on enough dried meat while she was hiding on his ship.
“Everyone is preparing to board.” Damian nodded to the mail coach.
She quickly finished her last bite then drank the rest of the ale.
He took the two empty tankards. “Save me a seat.”
She most definitely would since she did not want to be stuck between two strangers while he was as well, especially if two beautiful women sat on either side of Damian.
Georgie lifted the satchel of foodstuffs, her own, and allowed her new reticule to dangle from her wrist as she walked to the mail coach then stepped inside.
The seats she and Damian had occupied were still available.
In fact, she was the first to sit then placed the satchels in the place where Damian would be.
A man entered after her and eyed her belongings then sat across from where Damian would be seated.
Two women entered after. One sat beside her and the other across, at the far end of the coach, leaving the middle seat directly across from her open.
A second man entered, stared at the empty seat opposite her, which was between a man and a woman and then the seat beside hers and reached to remove her items.
“That is where my husband will be seated.”
“As he is not here, I now claim it. Move your things.”
“I will not!”
He glared at her and grabbed the satchel.
“Please unhand my property.”
Georgie looked past the man to Damian, grateful that he had arrived in time.
“If you want a seat then you should have been here.”
“My wife was, now please step aside.”
“I will not sit in the middle,” the man insisted. “You were not here. Therefore, I will be sitting by your wife.”
Her pulse jumped as she anticipated the two coming to fisticuffs because Georgie did not believe that Damian would back down and if the two did fight, it would be out of the carriage and if the mail coach decided to leave, the two would be left behind.
“Let Wynd sit next to his wife,” the first man who boarded the coach ordered.
She blinked and stared at him. The man knew who Damian was and she just claimed to be married. She had hoped that the only person who had believed the falsity had been Panmure, which would easily be dismissed according to Damian.
“He was not here,” the last man argued.
“Sit and quit being an ar…” He stopped and cleared his throat and Georgie could only assume that he was about to say arse, a word she sometimes heard on the ship when sailors were close to her hiding space. She had heard several colorful expressions that she had been left to think about.
“I am a baron and I demand—”
“—He is the brother of an earl and from the family that owns Trade Wynd while you remain destitute. Be careful who you make an enemy,” the first man warned.
The gentleman’s face turned red right before he pushed past Damian and exited the mail coach, then called to the driver that he was collecting his valise.
Damian then entered, lifted the satchels, and took his seat. Georgie placed it on her lap, where it always remained while Damian set his on the floor behind his ankles, keeping it flush against the seat instead of taking up space on the floor.
Georgie waited for him to acknowledge the man sitting across from him but the two only stared at the other.
Were they friends? Were they enemies or merely acquaintances?