“Do you need spectacles?” Mr. McKenna countered, chewing.

Bliss was mildly insulted. “No, I don’t,” she snapped, “and it was rude of you to change the subject that way!”

He looked amused; it was obvious that he didn’t care in the slightest whether other people perceived him as mannerly or not. “Sorry,” he said, with an utter lack of sincerity.

If Bliss hadn’t been so ravenous and the food hadn’t been so good, she would have gotten up from her chair and walked out of Mr. McKenna’s house at that moment. As it was, she refrained from comment and continued to eat.

“I know a Yank,” remarked the man across the table from Bliss.

She stopped eating and leaned forward in her chair. She didn’t mention her mother, for if she did, she’d surely be asked to explain the whys and wherefores of the woman’s departure. “Really?”

A brisk nod was the only reply; Bliss’s obvious interest seemed to be lost on McKenna.

She narrowed her eyes. “Well, who is this person?” she demanded.

The farmer gave her a look of feigned surprise, mingled with amusement, and shrugged his powerful shoulders. “My sister-in-law, Maggie.”

Bliss scooted forward on her chair. Her mother had told her a great deal about America, but there were still so many questions that sometimes Bliss thought she wouldn’t be able to contain them. “Does she live near here? Might I meet her?”

McKenna rolled his remarkable blue eyes, as though Bliss’s request had been totally untoward. “No to both questions, love—she lives in Australia.”

Bliss allowed the inappropriate endearment her host had used to pass unchallenged. She was very curious about this Maggie woman. “Why did she leave America, do you know?”

“I don’t believe I ever asked her,” he replied, with a pensive frown that furrowed his forehead. “Things have a way of getting hectic when a bloke’s around Maggie McKenna.”

An odd sensation of jealousy rippled through Bliss’s spirit, and she sat up a little straighter in her chair, her food forgotten even though her hunger had not been assuaged. “You know my first name,” she said stiffly. “In all fairness, I should be given yours.”

Another grin creased the sun-browned face. “It’s Jamie,” he complied, with a near-elegant nod of his head. Then, before Bliss could say anything else at all, he added, “It’s a very long way to America, you know. Exactly how were you planning to get there?”

He spoke as though all her plans had been canceled, and Bliss bridled with annoyance. “Why, I was planning to swim, of course,” she answered tartly.

Jamie favored her with an unfriendly look that brought a strange warmth to her blood. “Whoever named you Bliss was a fanciful sort,” he said. A moment later, he was waving his fork at her accusingly. “You’ve run away from a husband or a father, haven’t you?”

He’d struck very close to the truth—so close that Bliss’s face heated and she had to avert her eyes for a moment. When she had recovered her aplomb, she met Jamie’s snapping gaze squarely and replied, “Not a husband, actually. I was only betrothed to Alexander—we never married.”