“Some tiff, that,” Peony fussed. “You would have been killed if it hadn’t been for Cutter—that old miscreant. I never thought I’d be grateful to him for anything.”

“Will you let me finish, woman?” Jamie demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

Peony nodded grudging assent and sat down in a chair near the empty fireplace. “Go ahead, then,” she grumbled, “and damn you for smoking.”

He grinned. “Sorry. Anyway, as I was sayin’, I’ve been givin’ some thought to those blokes on the road.” Jamie’s expression turned sober. “Could be they were workin’ for Increase.”

Peony’s beautiful complexion paled slightly. “Off with you,” she protested after a moment with a weak wave of one hand. “After all these years, that old devil’s probably dead and gone—and good riddance to him, too.”

“He hated me, Peony.”

“He hated everybody.”

Jamie sighed impatiently. “Maybe, but I’ve got a nasty feelin’ that ’e’s decided to call in ’is markers, love. And if that’s the case, you’re in a lot of trouble and so am I.”

Peony gnawed at her lower lip, obviously remembering that vicious old man and the days when she’d been at his mercy, after her first husband, Will, had been killed in a fight. “It would be like him not to forget,” she admitted in a very small voice. She turned frightened eyes to her friend. “What are we going to do?”

By then, Jamie wished that he hadn’t mentioned Increase’s name—at least, not that night. “We’re goin’ to be a little more careful than usual and go on about our business,” he answered softly.

The lonely sound of a dog’s howling floated in through the open window. Peony shivered, stormed across the room again, and slammed the window closed.

Jamie chuckled. “I’ll protect you, love,” he promised.

Peony only shook her head and walked out, closing the door behind her.

“The woman ’as no faith in me manly vigor,” Jamie complained to the empty room. Then he got up, turned out the light, and opened the window again. He stood in the fresh air, smoking another cheroot and gazing out at the night, wondering where in blazes Bliss had gotten herself off to. He’d wager the little idiot hadn’t even given a thought to all the dangers a city had to offer.

The dog was at it again; he let out a series of mournful yips, then began to bay once more, giving voice to his singular miseries.

“Me, too, mate,” Jamie agreed in a raspy whisper as he closed the window. “Me, too.”

Chapter 11

THE FIRST GRAY LIGHT OF A CRISPLY CHILLY DAWN WAS SHOWING at the windows as Bliss made ready to travel to the docks in search of work. Calandra, too, was up and about, brewing tea, toasting bread in the oven, poaching eggs.

All the same, the older woman had her doubts about the wisdom of Bliss’s plans. “Perhaps it would be better, my dear,” she ventured to say as the two sat together at a small table in the kitchen, having breakfast, “if you simply went back to your husband.”