Hope swelled within Maggie, but before she could reply, Eleanor appeared at the base of the steps. She’d been out walking along the beach, and her beautiful dark hair was windblown. Ignoring Maggie completely, she smiled at Reeve, smoothed her hair back from her cheek with one hand, and said, “I think you’re overextending yourself, Mr. McKenna. Perhaps you’d best go to bed.”

Reeve’s attention, Maggie was relieved to see, was all for her. “That’s a fine idea,” he agreed, touching the tip of her nose. “But first I want to talk to a preacher.”

Two splotches of color appeared on Eleanor’s flawless cheeks. The look she gave Maggie would have scorched the hide of an elephant. “To confess your sins?” she drawled before she snatched up her skirts in her hands and stomped up the steps.

Maggie smiled warmly. “We’d be delighted to have you for a witness, Miss Kilgore,” she said.

Eleanor marched inside the hotel, her chin high, her skirts rustling.

“I’m warning you,” Maggie said, standing very close to Reeve. “The first thing I’m going to do as your wife is give that woman the sack.”

Reeve laughed. “Jealous?”

“Never!” lied Maggie. But her good spirits were plummeting. Yet she was troubled by the fact that Reeve had still not said he loved her. She sat down on the swinging bench the hotel had provided for its guests’ comfort and sighed.

Reeve immediately sat beside her. “What is it, Yank?”

Maggie whispered, “Do you love me?”

He picked up her hand, his thumb toying with the magnificent diamond on her finger. “I gave you this, didn’t I?”

“You’ve probably given a lot of women a lot of baubles, Reeve.”

“Never an engagement ring.” He sighed.

Maggie repeated her question doggedly. “Do you love me?”

“I’m not sure I know what that means, Maggie, but insofar as I understand the word, yes.”

Maggie closed her eyes. It certainly hadn’t been a flowery declaration, but considering that she loved Reeve desperately and that she was carrying his child, she was relieved. Still, there were other hurdles. “About Jamie. Reeve, do you remember being with Jamie? Coming home with him on the ship after your—your experience?”

Reeve was staring at her as though she’d grown an extra nose. “What?”

“It was Jamie who brought you home. He looked after you before that too—until you were well enough to travel.”

All the color that remained in Reeve’s taut face drained away. “My God,” he breathed. “I was with Jamie?” He grasped Maggie’s elbow hard. “Why don’t I remember?”

Maggie could only shake her head.

“There’s a lot you can tell me, isn’t there?” The words were sharp with suspicion and mistrust.

The wedding, a shining prospect only moments before, suddenly seemed impossible. “Reeve—”