Bliss touched the word love with her fingertip, allowing it to warm her. Then, after another look at the clock, she realized that she was going to be late for work if she didn’t hurry.

Hastily, she located her satchel, which had yet to be unpacked, and drew out clean underthings and her spare shirtwaist. She would wear the sateen skirt again, though it, like the blouse, was quite rumpled.

As Bliss wound her flowing hair into a coronet and pinned it in place, she despaired a little that her pride wouldn’t allow her to let Jamie buy her new and beautiful clothes. It would have been lovely to have things to choose from—this dress for the tea, and that for the races. .. .

Shaking her head at her own foolishness, she washed her face, cleaned her teeth, and set out, spurning the lift for the stairs. She felt more than one pair of eyes upon her as she crossed the lobby, but she kept her chin high. If people were entertaining malicious thoughts, well, let them think what they liked.

Outside, the weather was crisply beautiful. The sun was shining brightly in the sky and there was the promise of spring in the air.

Bliss’s step was light as she hurried toward the tram stop. She hadn’t waited long before it came, crammed with people who worked in offices and shops and hotels.

During the ride to the end of the line, where Flossy’s establishment was, Bliss thought of Jamie and the way he’d uncovered her the night before and kissed her so gently. Just the memory made her breasts swell with warmth and her nipples harden. She was glad of her heavy coat.

“Dammit all to ’ell!” Jamie roared as he came out of the bedroom, glaring at Peony as though everything were her fault. “To think I trusted that little—”

Peony smiled to realize how far gone her friend really was. The longer he knew Bliss, the more he spoke in the brogue, and that meant he was finally letting down his guard a little, allowing himself to be who he was: Jamie McKenna, of Dublin. “Calm down,” she said, tugging at her gloves. “She told you she had a job.”

“And I told ’er that she didn’t need it!” Jamie yelled, gesturing wildly. “I offered to set her up in a ’ouse, for God’s sake—”

“For God’s sake, Jamie? Or for yours?”

He flung down his hat and then sank into a chair, burying his head in his hands. Ah yes, Peony reflected, with another small smile. He was the very picture of despair.

“I suppose,” Peony ventured, some moments later, “that you generously offered to visit Bliss whenever the spirit moved you.”

Jamie’s bleak stare confirmed Peony’s suspicions, though he didn’t speak.

She took a chair, despite the fact that Jamie hadn’t invited her to make herself at home, and loosened the strings on her bonnet. Lord, how she hated having ribbons under her chin. “How pompous you are, Jamie McKenna,” she remarked, making no effort to hide her annoyance. “How infernally pompous.”