And once she was legally free again, she’d get that position she’d been dreaming of and work her way to America. She smiled to herself as she approached the man who had inadvertently become her husband.

Her mother was waiting in San Francisco, California. Come hell or high water, Bliss meant to join her there.

Jamie’s eyes were watchful, and he made no effort at conversation until they’d traveled a considerable distance along the road that curved by the edge of the sea. The knife he was so adept at using was lying on the wagon seat instead of in its scabbard.

Bliss felt a shiver of fear roll down her spine. “A-are we in danger?” she dared to ask.

His lips curved into a smile, but his gaze was solemn. “Anything can happen, Duchess,” he said quietly. And then Jamie bent his head to look a little closer at her chin. “Is that a bruise?” he demanded.

A bruise was a bruise and Bliss didn’t see how she could deny what was plain for him to see. She sighed. “Papa thinks pain improves my hearing,” she answered, avoiding Jamie’s eyes.

He drew back hard on the reins, at the same time calling out to the horses, and the cumbersome wagon rattled to a stop beside the road. The salty scent of the sea was on the crisp morning wind, along with a gentle mist.

“Your father did that?” Jamie asked, and Bliss could no longer avoid his gaze, which was far colder than the wintry sea.

Bliss was stubbornly silent. She wanted no more trouble.

Jamie’s voice was a volcanic rumble. “Answer me!”

Bliss nodded, her own temper rising, and Jamie urged the team into a broad turn in the middle of the road. Laying one hand on his arm, Bliss cried out, “No!”

The word was not a plea, but a warning, and to Bliss’s unending surprise, Jamie heeded it. He let the reins go slack in his hands and gazed at her in undisguised bewilderment.

“Maybe Papa did hurt me,” Bliss said, now that she had her husband’s attention, “but it wasn’t half so bad as the pain you caused, Jamie McKenna. If you go back to that inn and take vengeance on my father, you’ll be the worst kind of hypocrite!”

Shame moved in Jamie’s handsome face. “Bliss, about last night—”

“Please,” Bliss interrupted, almost desperately, unable to bear being reminded of that particular humiliation. “I think we should just forget that.”

Jamie gazed at her in silence for a few moments, then turned the team and wagon around again. They’d rattled and jostled along for some time before he politely requested, “Tell me what your life was like before you woke up in my barn, Duchess.”

Bliss sighed. “It was uneventful, for the most part. I helped Papa with his duties, and I walked and read and dreamed.”

Jamie favored her with a soft grin. “Is that why you wanted to go to America? Because you read about it?”