Chapter Three
“Do you know the punishment for stowaways on a merchant ship?” Damian asked when she did not answer him.
Georgie slowly shook her head, wide brown eyes watching him, coral lips slightly parted, dark braids falling over each shoulder.
Such a hairstyle would lead one to believe that she was a child, but he already knew that she was not.
In fact, she might even be older than the six-and-ten he had settled on.
There was maturity in her manner, confidence in her posture, and challenge in her dark eyes. It was possible that she was not fresh from the schoolroom and slightly older than his original assessment, but not much.
Nor did her age matter. She was still a young female.
“Had Captain Jenkins found you before the Charlotte Rose arrived in Southampton, he could have abandoned you at any port that he saw fit, beat you, locked you up, and deprived you of food.”
Georgie stared at him without reaction, not even a flicker in her brown eyes.
“He could have forced you to labor to pay for your passage such as peeling potatoes or swabbing the deck. Of course, that is assuming that he did not see through your disguise.”
One eyebrow rose and the corner of her mouth quirked, likely because she assumed that since she had not been caught on the ship that she would not be forced into labor.
Why wasn’t she frightened?
“Now that you have trespassed not only onto my ship, but arrived at a restricted area of the port, you could be fined or imprisoned. As such, it is now up to me to determine your fate.”
Some of the confidence she had displayed slipped as she studied him while two pearly teeth bit a plump bottom lip.
Damian had no intention of fining or imprisoning her, but Georgie needed to believe that her freedom was not yet secured and there were more threats that he could issue.
Yes, they were empty threats, but she did not need to know that was the case.
He just wanted answers as to why she had snuck on one of his ships.
However, more importantly, he wanted to know who had helped her because they would soon lose their position.
“Are you now ready to tell me why you were on one of my ships?” he demanded.
“Yes, why?” Livia countered as she came around the desk to stand beside Damian, arms crossed over her chest, mimicking him.
He was not going to get his answers with a child by his side. “This matter does not concern you, Livia. Find somewhere else to be.”
“The earl told me to stay here. It was a direct order.”
Damian blew out a sigh. “Very well but go sit over there.” He pointed to a settee on the opposite wall. It was an area arranged for conversation.
Livia let out a heavy sigh, her slight shoulders rising and dropping as she shuffled away.
“If you are not going to tell me why you were on the ship, tell me who helped you gain access and hid you.”
Georgie blinked at him and smiled again. “No one.”
“That is not possible.”
This time it was Georgie who crossed arms over breasts and lifted her chin. “I assure you that it was.”
“Impossible! There are always sailors on deck guarding against any intruders while at port.”
She lifted a dark eyebrow again and smirked. “Then I suggest you have them replaced because they did a poor job of it.”
Damian could not accept that a mere woman had managed to find her way onto one of their ships without notice, let alone remain there for the duration of the trip, without being discovered.
“Who helped you?” he demanded.
“I told you. No one.”
“Then how did you manage to remain undiscovered?”
“When?” she asked innocently. “When I boarded your ship or while it sailed?”
Somehow, she had turned the demands on him and Damian did not like it at all. “Both!”
“I watched through the night and finally made my way up the gangplank in the early morning hours when your sailors were relaxed and tired. I was in all black and kept my face hidden. It helped that it was a new moon so there was very little light to reflect off the water. I then made my way below, found a quiet corner, out of the way and behind the marble, and waited.”
“You never came up? Not in three weeks?” It was not possible she could hide for so long.
“There was the occasion that I was in need of food and fresh water, when the provisions that I had brought with me were gone, and sometimes simply fresh air.” She reached into her satchel and produced her purse. “I will pay for the food I stole from the galley.”
Bloody hell!
Damian shook his head and walked behind his desk and sat down and studied Georgie.
What was he supposed to do with her? She was a stowaway that required punishment.
She stole from the galley, which was a crime.
It also wasn’t so simple, either. A female, who he was beginning to suspect might be closer to eight-and-ten, still too young to be on her own, did not sneak upon a merchant ship to stowaway without good reason.
“Why?”
Georgie blinked at him. “Why?”
“Yes, why?” he repeated.
“Why what?”
Damian drew in a deep breath. “Do you know how dangerous it was for you to be on the docks in Italy, alone, in the early morning hours?” Good God, anything could have happened to her.
“Then to sail on a ship of only men.” Such would see her ruined if anyone learned.
“Why the Charlotte Rose?” Maybe there was a reason she chose his ship, or had it simply been luck?
“I knew that it was a Trade Wynd ship returning to England.”
“How could you know that?”
“I live in Carrara and I know the ships that regularly dock,” she returned.
“Ours could not have been the only ship sailing for England.”
“It was leaving the earliest and I needed to arrive in Southampton, not London.”
She knew more about their trade than he realized.
“Why Southampton? Are you from here?” She spoke English clearly, but her accent was odd, not fully Italian nor English, which made him wonder which was her first language, or if it was another language.
“I was born and raised in Carrara,” she answered.
“You are Italian?”
“Yes.”
“Your English is without error in translation or hesitation,” he observed.
“My father is Irish. I heard and spoke both Italian and English from birth.”
That certainly explained the odd accent.
“If you are Italian, from Carrara, and I assume your family is there as well, why did you need to come to Southampton?”
*
How much should she tell him? It was not as if he could be of any assistance, and she really could not waste any more time answering Mr. Damian Wynd’s questions.
“What restitution do I need to make for not paying for passage on your ship?” She had funds, though she hated to part with any because she did not know how long her search would take and what she would need to pay for along the way. And then she would need to purchase passage home.
“I am not certain as we are not a passenger ship, but a friend recently returned from America, which cost him fourteen pounds.”
While Georgie had managed to bring that much with her, it was also most of her funds.
“We could calculate, I suppose,” Damian suggested. “By dividing the fourteen pounds over the sixty days that it took to cross the Atlantic, then multiplying that amount by twenty-one, the number of days you were on my ship, you would owe Trade Wynd…four pounds.”
Georgie frowned as she did the calculations mentally. “It would be more,” she answered.
“Yes, well, you were not in a cabin, nor did you take meals, other than when you stole from the galley, therefore, it would not be fair to charge you the same as a passenger ship where you were guaranteed more comfortable quarters. In fact, given you slept behind marble slabs, two pounds might be more accurate.”
She could pay two pounds, three even, especially if it allowed her to finally leave. Therefore, she opened her purse and produced the funds.
“I did not say that I would take payment. We were simply discussing what the cost should be.”
“Then there is no reason why I cannot leave.” Georgie stood.
“That will be decided when you answer why you felt the need to stowaway.”
“Why does it matter?” She nearly cried with exasperation.
“Because it was my ship and I am still not certain what I am going to do with you.”
“It is not your ship,” she returned. “It is owned by the Earl of Wyndham, and you are not him.”
Humor lit in his blue eyes.
“How do you know that I am not Wyndham?”
“Because I have met him.”
At that statement, Damian leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “Exactly when did you meet the Earl of Wyndham?”
“When he came to Carrara to visit the owners of the marble mines last year. I served him tea and bread and sometimes a small repast at Accetta Panetteria.”
“Is that a café or coffee house?”
“I suppose you would likely refer to it as a bakery. Most people visit in the mornings for their bread to take home for meals, but we also have tables to serve customers, which includes sandwiches in the early afternoon before we close.”
“I assume that was your place of employment, where you supposedly met the earl, before you decided to stow away on a Trade Wynd ship.” He cocked his head and studied her as he leaned forward. “Is that the reason you traveled to Southampton? Is your interest in the Earl of Wyndham?”
“Of course not!” Did women often show up at Trade Wynd looking for the earl? Why else would he make such an inquiry? “Unless the gentleman I spoke with and served was impersonating the earl, you are not him.”
“I am certain that it was Wyndham.” Damian shook his head and sighed as he once again relaxed back in his chair.
Why did he believe her now? Did the Earl of Wyndham have a known fondness for bread outside of when he had visited them?
“While my older brother may own Trade Wynd, I am the one who runs and operates it. Therefore, all decisions fall to me, including whether you are to be punished, made to pay for passage, or put on a ship and taken back to Italy.”
“I am happy to pay!” she reminded him.