Jamie strained at his bonds, almost insane in his rage and his frustration. Bliss knew that however Peony had died, he had been forced to look on, helpless, and with a shiver she realized that this was what was planned for her as well. A terrible death, with Jamie as a witness. For him, there could be no greater torture.

She lifted her chin, determined not to let either Increase or her husband know how frightened she really was.

“Let ’er go,” Jamie bit out, twisting against the rawhide that held him. “It’s me you want—not ’er!”

Increase smiled with pleasure. “Ah. And now the pleading begins,” he said.

Chapter 25

BLISS WRENCHED HER ARM FREE OF INCREASE PIPHER’S GRASP AND hurried back to Jamie. She planted a gentle kiss on his lips and then carefully slipped the rawhide chain over his head, so that he once again wore the beggar’s badge. The torment she saw in his eyes as he watched her made her regret every sharp, angry word she’d ever said to him.

It was as though Bliss were looking deep into Jamie McKenna’s soul, seeing for the first time who and what he really was—the most honorable, the bravest of men. She swallowed a hard lump of shame to know that she’d brought him here, to this time and this place, and hot tears of regret burned in her eyes.

She was quick to force them back, to raise her chin. For Jamie’s sake, and her own, she must be stronger and more courageous than she’d ever been before.

“I love you, Duchess,” Jamie said brokenly. The bloody medallion resting against his torn, stained shirt was dull even in the late-afternoon sunshine.

Increase stepped between them, smiling that cadaverous smile of his, one thin hand resting against his chest. “Such sentiment,” he taunted, his sunken eyes glowing as he looked at Jamie. “It’s worthy of a sonnet, my boy. What exquisite agony it will be for you to watch your Juliet suffer.”

Jamie didn’t speak, and his gaze was level. His contempt for Increase was almost palpable.

His calm manner infuriated the old man. He hobbled over to Walter Davis, who was looking on with an unreadable expression on his face, and snatched the riding quirt the man held from his hand.

Bliss glanced at Jamie and saw a flicker of fear in his eyes as Increase stormed toward them. The expression changed to one of relief when the old man struck him with the whip instead of Bliss. The lash, striking Jamie’s right cheek, turned his head but did nothing to dislodge the pride that held him upright as surely as the bonds held him to the tree.

For her part, Bliss would have preferred taking the blow herself. She cried out as though she had, and attacked Increase in hatred and fury, her fists and feet flying.

“Bliss, stop it!” Jamie bit out the order, and it was not one she dared defy. She stepped back, breathing hard, her hands clenched at her sides.