Page 28 of Miss Wylde and the Wynd

Georgie lifted her satchel and placed it over her shoulder to carry it across and in front of her body as she had done before. “Where is the Star Hotel?” There was no building with that name.

“The hotel is only another street over,” he answered. “If anyone were to see the crest on my brother’s carriage, it would draw attention.” He then pulled his hat down so that it shadowed most of his face, then picked up the valises and started walking with Georgie by his side.

At least he wasn’t striding ahead as he had done when they’d gone to the dry dock and she wasn’t forced to practically run to keep up with him.

“We will be traveling as Robert and Lucy…George.” He smiled.

“Why those names?”

“Because if everyone believes you are my wife, they will leave you alone.”

She wanted to object, but it would be safer. And it was only for the time that they were on the mail coach. “Very well, Robert.

At least now she knew why he wanted to know her middle name.

“It also grants me permission to draw you close, if necessary or put my hand at the middle of your back to shield you, if you are in agreement.”

“I have no objection.” In fact, she would not mind at all.

Georgie blinked and glanced up at him from the corner of her eye.

She should mind, he was practically a stranger, yet she did not. Not at all.

“Good.” He gave a brisk nod.

“But what if you are recognized for who you are?”

They were in the same town where he lived. Certainly, most of the residents were not strangers

“I do not anticipate that to be the case, but if I am, I will consider other options so that everyone knows that I am your protector.”

She snorted. “Claim me as your mistress then?”

“I would not insult you in such a manner.” He frowned. “What do you know of mistresses?”

“England is not the only place where men keep women for the simple purpose of…pleasure.”

“I promise that I will find an excuse that will not see you shamed,” he said just before they reached the Star Hotel and walked beneath a large, stone arch at the center of the building. The hotel at each side and above. At the opposite end of the tunnel-like arch was a central courtyard where a mail coach waited with three passengers standing nearby.

He paused for a moment.

“What is wrong?”

“I thought mail coaches only carried four passengers.”

Her heart began to pound. She could not wait another three days.

“This one takes extra because so many people travel to London,” a man said as he passed them and joined the others.

With six travelers, it would make for a very crowded coach, but still preferrable to walking.

Damian kept his head down, but Georgie had no need to do so since she knew nobody in London outside of the Wynd family

“Mr. Damian Wynd! I cannot believe that you are also taking a mail coach to London.”

So much for traveling under assumed names.

Georgie turned to find a quite pleasant-looking gentleman with tousled blond hair and humor-filled dark-blue eyes approach.