He ignored her reference to his arrogant attitude and sighed. “At least I know where she is this time.”

“Where?” asked Peony, with a tinge of impatience, for she could not have cared less. She hadn’t felt like taking some bounding country woman shopping anyway.

“Flossy’s Tearoom,” Jamie answered.

A peal of laughter escaped her.

“It’s not funny, Peony!”

Peony assumed some semblance of dignity, though her lips were still twitching. “Oh, but it is, darling,” she said. “What in heaven’s name does she do, read tea leaves?”

Jamie was obviously in no mood to be sporting. He glared at Peony.

She wasn’t the least bit cowed. “Do you want me to tell your fortune, Jamie love?” she asked sweetly. “I can do it without tea leaves, a crystal ball, or even a glance at your palm.”

He muttered something grossly impolite and thrust himself off the settee, putting on that seedy hat of his in almost the same motion. Of course, it did give him a rakish look, that hat. A look that was most attractive. “Come on,” he grumbled.

Peony took her time. “Don’t you want to hear what your future holds?” she chimed.

“I ’ave a damn good idea what me future ’olds, thank you very much!”

“Six or seven redheaded children, I should think,” Peony mused, just to raise some steam from beneath Jamie’s collar. “By the way, I’m getting hungry. Where are we lunching?”

Jamie took Peony’s elbow in his hand and ushered her out of the suite. “Where else,” he muttered, “but Flossy’s Tearoom?”

When Bliss arrived at the tearoom, there was a “closed” sign in the window and she could see Flossy through the dusty glass, packing things into boxes. Boldly, she let herself in, expecting bad news.

Instead, Flossy blessed her with a broad and slightly rotted smile. “He’s finally gone and struck lucky, that boy of mine.” She beamed. “Got himself a little patch of land in Australia.”

Bliss smiled, slipped out of her coat, and began helping her erstwhile employer pack plates. While they worked, Flossy regaled Bliss with plans for the future. She’d just be cooking for her son now—her days of working her fingers to the bone were past.

She gave Bliss a kindly, worried glance. “But I’ve gone and forgot about you, missy. What are you going to do, without work?”

Bliss smiled. She’d visit each of the shipping and passage agencies regularly, with the exception of the one with questionable dealings in the Orient, and one day things would come right for her. “I’ll be fine,” she said.

Flossy didn’t look persuaded. “Sweet little dearie like you,” she fussed. “Ought to have a husband to look after her.”

Bliss had not mentioned Jamie to her friend, and she didn’t plan to bring up his name now. After all, hers wasn’t the kind of marriage one went around boasting about. “Someday,” she said, and she thought of herself standing beside some nice man in America, before a preacher. He’d be a decent, trusting soul, and she’d be a bigamist, for even if Jamie divorced her, Bliss would always be his wife in her heart.