Page 55 of Miss Wylde and the Wynd

Except, Georgie wasn’t certain that she could after what had happened earlier.

What if she had been alone with those two? What if she hadn’t woken?

And as much as she insisted that she was independent and could take care of herself, events of late proved just how wrong she had been and it irritated her to no end.

Further, she would never tell Damian because she loathed admitting that he had been right that she had needed some protection.

Chapter Twenty

They rode the rest of the night without incident and when they had reached the halfway point in their journey, the driver announced that they would be stopping for longer. It was likely so that he could eat, as had been the case when they had traveled from Southampton.

Though it was morning, Damian hoped that there were shops open. It helped that they had stopped in the larger town of Birmingham.

“Come along,” he said as she exited the coach.

“Are we off to break our fast.”

“No,” Damian answered. “We are off to shop.”

“We only have thirty minutes,” she reminded him.

“The last time you were able to purchase a book and eat, therefore we should have no difficulty.”

Georgie snorted. “Purchases made in a rush are often regretted.”

“Yes, well, we are not going to buy a book.” He tugged on her arm so that she might walk quicker, then led her down a street of shops, which were thankfully open, then entered one that appeared to carry accessories that a woman would want such as hats, parasols, scarves, and gloves. Those he had viewed from the window and assumed there would be reticules inside. He then led her to a row of shelves where they were on display.

“Chose one,” he practically ordered.

Georgie lifted one then read the tag before placing it back on the shelf. “It is not a necessary purchase.”

Damian shook his head. He understood that she did not want to spend her precious funds, or he believed that was the case. He had never needed to worry about how much he spent on any item, though he did tend not to waste funds on frivolous items, which was likely how Georgie viewed purchasing a reticule since she claimed not to need one.

But, as time was precious, and he did not want to waste it arguing with her, Damian chose one for her, walked to the clerk, paid for it, then escorted Georgie back out of the shop, down the walk, and back toward the coaching inn where he hoped to purchase something to eat before the boarded the mail coach again.

“It does match your waistcoat and is quite fetching.” She smiled. “It even matches your eyes.”

Damian ignored her taunt and led Georgie to a bench.

“Sit!”

She arched a dark eyebrow but did not argue with him.

He then took a seat beside her and opened the reticule. “Place your funds in here.”

“Why do you believe they will be safer in a reticule than my satchel, where it is buried?”

“A satchel is easier to open. The reticule can be slipped on your wrist and it has a drawstring, which is nearly impossible to open without alerting the wearer.”

Georgie blew out a sigh but did not argue because she knew that he was correct.

“Are you this familiar with all women’s accessories?” she asked as she dug into her satchel.

Damian’s face heated. He was quite familiar with what women carried and wore, down to the silken stockings that caressed their thighs.

Did Georgie wear silk stockings?

He supposed she was not now, since she was dressed in a most practical manner, but he would like to see her in silk stockings, held about her thighs by delicate ribbons that were easy to untie and slide down her leg.