Page 16 of Miss Wylde and the Wynd

That alone gave Georgie comfort, but she would not fully relax until she knew for certain what had become of Grace.

When the hackney turned away from the port and Trade Wynd, she sat forward. “Where are we going?”

“Wyndview Hall,” Damian answered.

“Your home?” she asked in alarm.

“It belongs to Wyndham, but I live there as well.”

Panic rose in her chest. “Why are you taking me there?” She really needed to find her sister and not be held prisoner.

“Was there somewhere else you needed to be tonight? Or did you plan to start walking to London immediately?”

“I was going to find an inn.”

“You will stay at Wyndview Hall.”

“It is not your home to invite me to.”

“Sterling will not mind, nor will Caroline or Livia,” he informed her. “Besides, if my brother found out that I left you alone in an inn, he would send me back to get you.”

“You cannot know that for certain.”

He arched an auburn eyebrow. “I do. Nor could I leave you there in good conscience.”

While she appreciated the offer, Georgie needed to be free to make plans and she could not do that if Damian was going to be dictating where she went and when. It was her sister and all she had done was hide on one of his ships. She was not his responsibility.

“What if I do not want to stay there?”

He snorted. “You assume you have a choice.”

Anger rose instantly. “I do and can choose to do what I want. I am a grown woman.”

He snorted and shook his head as if he did not believe her. “A foolish one.”

“I am not,” she insisted, crossing her arms over her breast. “I am only doing what is necessary to save my sister.”

“I know but do it in a way that I do not need to spend the night worrying about you.”

Georgie gasped. “I am not your responsibility. Forget that I ever got on one of your ships and let me out of this hackney.”

Damian blew out a heavy sigh. “At least remain long enough for a hot meal and then we can discuss your options for traveling to London.”

She was hungry and the very idea of a real meal that was not dried meat and bread made her stomach grumble. And he did likely know the most efficient route to London. She would be a fool to turn down his offer. “I will remain until I have a solid plan and then you will never have to see me again.”

“Somehow I do not think I will ever forget you though,” he grumbled as he glanced out the window.

Soon, the town was behind them as they drove into the country and then turned down a long, tree-lined drive before they arrived at a light, stone Elizabethan house that rose four stories with large windows, several chimneys, and decorative stonework.

She had never been inside such a wealthy residence before and suddenly became very much aware of not only her appearance but from where she came, the daughter of an Italian baker.

Oh, she should have made Damian leave her at an inn where she belonged.

When the hackney stopped, Demain stepped out, paid the driver, then assisted Georgie to the ground before leading her up the steps to the door, which was opened immediately, and led her into a bright, marble entry.

“Did you find her?” Lady Wyndham asked as she was coming down the stairs.

Before Georgie could answer, Damian explained.