Red from his collar to his hairline, his wonderful emerald eyes flashing, Duncan righted his chair with narry a glance for the shivering maid and sat down in it heavily. “She’s just foolhardy enough to take the next ship, Loretta, and you know it!”

“Would that be so awful?” Loretta asked in a small, tremulous voice. “After all, Duncan, you have me.”

Duncan gave her an exasperated look and began eating, glowering into space as he chewed. Loretta knew he was plotting, and that worried her.

“Duncan,” she said softly. “Marry me.”

He stopped chewing, and his fork was poised in midair as he stared at Loretta in amazement. “Marry you? Damn it, Loretta, if I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a hundred times—I mean to marry Maggie!”

Enough was definitely enough. Loretta surged to her feet, hot color pulsing in her face, her dark eyes venomous. “It isn’t Maggie you’ve been bedding these past few weeks, is it?”

Duncan hurled his napkin into his plate and stood up. “More’s the pity,” he retorted, and then he turned and stormed out of the dining room.

Loretta squeezed her eyes shut tight when she heard the front door of the town house slam.

Maggie wasn’t exactly looking forward to traveling to America; it was more a case of being resigned to her fate. Philip and Samuel would both be going along, though, and that meant that she would at least have friends. Standing in the center of Reeve’s bedroom, she laid both her hands on her stomach. The baby would be her family.

She was just getting dressed for another long day of rehearsals when the door squeaked open and Elisabeth crept in. The child was more subdued than ever now that Reeve was gone, and Maggie felt a pang at the thought of leaving her.

Her enormous aquamarine eyes round and sad, she approached Maggie and held up a shiny red apple and one of Cora’s alphabet cards. “Apple,” she said clearly.

Maggie sat down on the edge of the bed, agape. Tears sprang into her eyes and she held out her arms. “Elisabeth,” she said as the child scrambled into her lap and huddled against her in silent despondency. “Oh, Elisabeth.”

Elisabeth began to cry. “Papa,” she sobbed. “Papa, Papa!”

Maggie embraced the child. “I know,” she said. “I miss him too.”

Elisabeth tilted back her head and reached up with one tiny finger to touch a teardrop on Maggie’s cheek. She didn’t speak again, but her expression said volumes. Somehow she’d sensed that Maggie was planning to leave Australia forever, and she was asking her not to go.

“I don’t belong here, in this house,” Maggie said sadly, praying that the child would understand somehow. “I’ve got to go.”