Chin high, Bliss retreated to the bedroom, but there was no solace to be found there, either.

Peony and her maid were packing the clothes Jamie had bought for Bliss into sturdy-looking trunks.

“What’s going on here?” Bliss demanded, folding her arms.

Peony excused the maid before squaring off with her adversary. She pointed to a chair with such authority that Bliss felt called upon to sit down.

“Now,” the older woman began in a low but not-to-be-ignored voice, “you listen to me, you little hoyden, and you listen well!”

Bliss glared at her. “I don’t have to take this,” she said, even though she knew she did.

Peony was pacing back and forth, her beautiful complexion tinted with pink, her green eyes flashing like the stone in the ring Jamie had offered Bliss. “Oh yes, you do,” the woman sputtered. “If you think differently, you just try getting past that man out there!”

Bliss swallowed. She’d run enough risks for one day.

“What, pray tell,” Peony went on, “were you trying to do?”

“Escape,” Bliss answered. The word squeaked out of her throat, and she felt her face growing hot at the memory of her grandest failure.

With a sigh, Peony sat down on the edge of the bed, looking directly into Bliss’s eyes. “Why?” she asked bluntly. “I may not know much, Mrs. McKenna, but I have grasped the fact that you love your husband.”

Bliss bit her lower lip. She’d rather die than let Jamie’s mistress see her cry. “I love him, but he loves you,” she said with quiet dignity. “He was with you last night. In—in your room.”

Incredibly, Peony smiled. “Yes, you little twit, Jamie did come to my room. He was so drunk he wouldn’t have been able to touch the floor with his hat without help.”

Bliss felt her eyes go round. For the life of her, she couldn’t say a word, but she remembered that Jamie had smelled of whiskey when he’d joined her in bed.

“I don’t know what you did to him,” Peony said evenly. “I haven’t seen him hurting that way since—well, in a long time.” She paused, then went on. “Bliss, Jamie and I don’t sleep together. We never have.”

Bliss sank her teeth into her lower lip and ducked her head. She wanted so desperately to believe Peony, but she didn’t. “He loves you. He’s told me so himself,” she said.

Peony’s voice was remarkably gentle, given her earlier ire. “There are many kinds of love,” she reminded Bliss. When there was no response, she stood up and began packing clothes again.

“Am I going somewhere?” Bliss wanted to know.

“Yes. If you want to know any more than that, you’ll have to ask your husband. Frankly, I’m tired of wasting my breath talking to someone who refuses to listen.”

Feeling chagrined, Bliss rose out of her chair with dignity and went back to the front room. Jamie was sharpening that lethal-looking blade of his against a bit of round stone, and he didn’t look up at her approach.