Page 34 of Miss Wylde and the Wynd

“Have you had meat pies before?” Damian asked, humor in his blue eyes.

“We have them in Italy, but we call them pastero,” she answered and assumed all countries had a meat pie.

She then leaned in. “However, I make a much nicer crust,” she confided in a whisper.

Damian arched an auburn eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“It is,” she answered with a sharp nod, proud of her baking skills, and being able to create a perfectly flaky crust, firm, but not hard.

“It is a shame we will be too busy for you to bake for me and prove your claim,” he nearly challenged.

“Oh, if we but had the time, then you would realize my breads and pastries are likely better than anything you could find in England.”

“You are quite confident in your skills.”

“Just as you are likely confident in your ability to manage and run Trade Wynd efficiently,” she returned. “I know my talents, as you know yours, and I am proud and delighted in what I am able to create.”

He stared into her eyes for what seemed like the longest time, curiosity in the depths before he finally spoke. “Then I am sorry that I will not have the opportunity to sample your baking.”

His words were sincere and Georgie found her face heating. She had not been bragging, though, perhaps she had been somewhat, but she also knew that she was an excellent baker and if it wasn’t so pressing that she find Grace, she would bake something for Damian.

Perhaps she might get the opportunity after Grace was safe and before they could find a passenger ship back to Italy

She blew out a sigh and took another bite then looked around at the people gathered, those entering the tavern, others leaving, and people who simply crossed the street.

This was all rather nice.

It was a pleasant day, and she had a book to read once she was back on the mail coach to continue their journey.

An adventure.

At least for someone who never thought to leave her home in Carrera, Italy, no matter how she had longed to do so.

So as not to have the same uncomfortable situation suffered earlier, Georgie excused herself after she had finished eating to find the privy. When she returned, the passengers started to gather so she entered the carriage and returned to the seat she had occupied and opened her book. Damian settled next to her but she did not have to look up to know that it was him. She recognized his presence, how he filled the space beside her along with his scent of citrus and sandalwood. It was comforting.

Other passengers were soon to follow. One being the woman who had previously wanted to sit beside Damian. She said nothing as she took her seat beside Georgie, so she could only assume that the male passengers that had accompanied them before were also continuing.

She barely glanced up from her book for a moment to note that she was partially correct. Two of the men returned but they were now joined by a woman. This one had auburn hair and blue eyes and sat across from Damian. She smiled and batted her eyes, before she looked over his person in the most beguiling manner.

It was bad enough to have one beautiful woman in the carriage but now there were two, which resulted in Georgie glaring at the newest passenger. When Damian chuckled, she realized that he had noticed so she returned her attention to the book on her lap then used the side of her foot to kick him and hoped that her long skirts had hidden her reaction.

Afterall, it was what a wife would do.

Chapter Eleven

What had started off as a tedious journey was turning out to be quite delightful. Damian had first been surprised when Georgie had chosen Characters of Shakespeare’s Play by William Hazlitt. He really did not know what it was about but assumed that the title was explanation enough. Why would anyone want to read about the characters when they could read the plays?

Then again, he didn’t really know Georgie enough to even guess her reading preferences, but he would have anticipated her to be more interested in realism, or epistolary novels. She seemed too pragmatic to enjoy anything in the romanticism genre.

When they had left Southampton, Georgie had one purpose, to get to Grace as quickly as possible, and only allowed him along because she had no choice. He was fairly certain that she did not even like him. However, if he was not mistaken, there had been a spark of irritation when the blonde woman had joined them. She was not a lady, and her dress and makeup, and the way she openly admired him had led Damian to believe that she was most likely a mistress in need of a protector. Respectable ladies, even if they were lonely widows, did not assess a gentleman so openly, especially when others were present. He also made the same judgment of the auburn-haired woman who had taken a seat across from him.

The two were vaguely familiar, as if he had seen them before, but there had never been an introduction. He often attended courtesan balls, especially when he was in need of a mistress, and could have seen them there, just as they likely recognized him.

Not that he had any interest in either the blonde or the redhead, which took him aback for a moment. Instead, he was fascinated by what appeared to be Georgie’s jealousy.

When the auburn-haired woman’s eyes swept over him from head to boot and back up, Damian had intended to ignore her, but when he glanced at Georgie, who glared at the woman, he couldn’t help but chuckle, then was quickly rewarded with a swift kick of her booted foot to the bone of his ankle.

Was Georgie jealous of another woman? While Damian had no interest in either one of them, he couldn’t help but be humored by Georgie’s reaction.