He loved it when she did that.

“Is there a problem, Duchess?” he asked smoothly, watching with delight as her indigo eyes flashed and her freckles stood out prominently.

“Yes!” she cried, full of fury. “That stupid, vainglorious chicken won’t let me gather the eggs! I’ve been trying all day!”

Jamie held back a smile. “No wonder he doesn’t like you,” he observed solemnly, his hands resting on her trembling shoulders. “You’ve insulted ’im by callin’ ’im a mere chicken. Caesar’s a rooster, love.”

That fabulous blue fire was still burning in her eyes. “Caesar’s going to be a shepherd’s pie if he keeps this up!” she shouted.

Unable to hold back his amusement any longer, Jamie laughed and kissed Bliss on the forehead. “There now, Duchess, is that any way to greet your own dear ’usband when ’e’s been gone all the day long?”

Bliss sighed and a smile sneaked across her mouth. She let her forehead rest against Jamie’s chest and he thought the seawind-and-wildflower scent of her hair would be his undoing. “I wanted those eggs for a cake,” she said. “I was going to surprise you.”

Jamie was unaccountably touched. He held Bliss close for a moment, not caring that Cutter and the rest of them would see and give him hell all the while they were away in the sheep camp. “No need for that, Duchess,” he said hoarsely. “As it ’appens, I brought you a few surprises from town.”

“Surprises?” Her wonderful eyes were dancing when she drew back her head to look up at him in mischievous curiosity, her white teeth sunk into her lower lip.

Thinking of the lonely, miserable week that lay ahead, Jamie ached. He couldn’t take Bliss along to camp—she had too great a gift for getting into trouble. It was spring, the ewes would be lambing, and there would be no time for keeping track of what the Duchess was up to at any given moment.

Too, the weather was still cold, at least at night, and camp was a crude place, hardly fit for a man, let alone a lady.

“Jamie?” Bliss prompted, prodding him a little with that infernal broom of hers. Little wonder she’d gotten off on the wrong foot with the rooster. “What surprises? Show me!”

He put aside his despair at the prospect of leaving her, even for such a short time, and grabbed her hand, dragging her toward the house.

Much of Bliss’s frustration over being thwarted by the rooster was assuaged when she saw the things Jamie had brought her. For one, there was a ring—this time just a plain gold band. It was to her liking, though, and she allowed him to place it gently on her finger.

“Just so nobody gets any ideas,” he said, with such seriousness that Bliss wanted to laugh.

“What kind of ideas?” she asked, but Jamie only shrugged and averted his eyes.

After that, he presented her with a cookbook, a box of chocolates, and a beautiful set of combs for her hair.