Bliss knew that Jamie was going to storm out without telling her anything if she didn’t stop him. Barefoot, she ran after him, watching wide-eyed as he settled the familiar leather hat on his head.

“Jamie, what’s happening?” she demanded. “Where are you going?”

Jamie’s finger waggled before Bliss’s nose; she had never seen him look quite so firm in his opinions. “You stay ’ere until I come back, Duchess,” he ordered, not even bothering to answer her questions. “No matter ’ow long that takes, you don’t go climbin’ out any windows, you ’ear me?”

Bliss nodded and bit her lower lip. She felt terribly afraid, but not of Jamie. It was the mysterious something or someone he was going out to do battle with that terrified her.

His expression softened a little, and he gave her a hasty kiss on the forehead, but no explanations were forthcoming. Jamie left the hotel room and locked the door behind him.

Bliss began to pace, hugging herself against a chill that came not from the air around her, but from deep within. Her every instinct screamed that Jamie was in worse trouble now than ever before.

“I’m all right,” Peony insisted. “George should never have gone running to you that way—”

Jamie was prowling back and forth along the edge of Peony’s drawing-room hearth, too furious to stand still. “All right, are you? You get a letter delivered by way of a brick through your parlor window, and you’re ’all right’!”

Peony’s lovely green eyes were shadowed by fear and weariness as she looked at the bit of paper lying crumpled on the table beside her chair. “Jamie,” she said with quiet patience, “go back to the hotel and look after Bliss. I’m perfectly safe.”

Jamie glanced at the note he knew by heart. Tell your mick lover that I’m not through with him yet. The debt has come due and I’ll be collecting soon—with interest.

He swore, pulled his hat on, then whipped it off again and threw it across the room, bellowing, “Damn that bleeder!”

Peony sighed. “Cursing Increase will do no good. We both knew he’d catch up with us one day.”

Jamie jammed splayed fingers through his hair. God, but the worst part was the waiting—for Increase to show himself, to make another move. Ah yes, the old man remembered how Jamie McKenna hated to stand by, helpless.

“Go and look after your wife, Jamie,” Peony insisted softly. “Please. If Increase has learned how you feel—”

“She’s locked in,” Jamie said flatly, going to recover his hat from where he’d flung it. “All the same, I’d feel better keepin’ an eye on ’er. Tell Molly to gather whatever you need for the night, Peony—you’re going to the ’otel with me. And no arguments!”

Peony, who had opened her mouth while Jamie was speaking, closed it again, then reached out to pull a bell cord.

Molly, looking shaken and white, appeared within moments. “You goin’ to call for the police now, missus?” she asked anxiously.