Page 14 of Miss Wylde and the Wynd

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.