LORETTA DIDN’T KNOW WHETHER TO BE ELATED OR ENVIOUS. Maggie Chamberlin, invited to tour America! Why, it was preposterous. The chit had no theatrical experience to speak of, and very little talent.

Thoughtfully, Loretta folded her newspaper and laid it aside. On the other hand, the fact that Reeve was alive couldn’t be kept from the girl forever; one day soon, he would return to Sydney and take up where he’d left off. And then there was the matter of Duncan’s growing preoccupation with the little bitch. Loretta was concerned about that; Duncan was just as rich and almost as powerful as Reeve, and if she couldn’t have Reeve back, she most certainly wanted Duncan.

She sat back in her chair as a maid came into the dining room of her small town house to clear away the breakfast dishes, and a smile curved her lips. Under the circumstances, Maggie’s tour of America might be the most fortuitous thing that could have happened.

Just then Duncan came into the room wearing the trousers and elegant dress shirt he’d worn the night before to the theater. There was no sign of his coat. “Good morning, Loretta,” he said with a dismal sigh.

He had been considerably more pleasant in bed, Loretta thought peevishly, but she smiled. “Good morning, darling.”

Duncan gave her a quizzical, wary look. Though they had been friends for years, they apparently hadn’t reached the stage where Loretta could address him with an endearment. “Let me see the newspaper,” he said as the maid set a plate of sausage, eggs, and scones before him.

Loretta knew there was no way she could keep news of Maggie’s invitation to America a secret from him; she could only hope that he wouldn’t be prompted to do anything rash. With a small sigh she handed him the Sydney Times.

Duncan opened the newspaper to the section where theater news was printed, and Loretta braced herself. She watched in helpless pique as the color drained from his face and his jawline tightened. He swore and flung the periodical back over one shoulder, and Loretta flinched.

“Blast it to bloody hell!” he growled.

Loretta sighed. “Now, Duncan—”

“That little imbecile!” Duncan yelled, rising from his chair so quickly that it toppled over backward and nearly struck the maid, who was still trying to gather up the newspaper he’d tossed moments before. “I have half a mind to go down to that theater and drag her out by the hair!”

Loretta called upon all her years of training and experience to summon up one sweet smile. “Duncan, do calm down. Maggie will have to finish the run of her play before she leaves, and that will take weeks.”