The kiss sent a shiver of desire through Maggie, and she mentally counted the hours until the night. Reeve’s hands cupped her bottom, pressing her close to him and, after circling her tingling lips once with the tip of his tongue, Reeve added in a throaty whisper, “I’ll make you very glad you married me, Yank.”

Maggie slipped her arms around his neck. “I’m already glad of that,” she replied softly. And then she arched an eyebrow thoughtfully. “In many ways, tonight will be our wedding night.”

Reeve was about to kiss Maggie again when someone cleared her throat. Startled, Mr. and Mrs. McKenna remembered that they were not alone and turned to see a flushed Eleanor standing in the doorway.

“There’s a meal ready,” she said with unparalleled timidity, “if you’d care to join us.”

Maggie was hungry, though she would have preferred to be alone with Reeve for the rest of the day, and she took her bewildered husband’s hand and led him toward the door.

The meal consisted of roasted poultry of some sort, as well as potatoes and peas, and scones served with jam and fresh cream. Maggie was forced to compliment Eleanor on her cooking. She couldn’t help noticing that both Duncan and Reeve were quick to agree.

Once they’d eaten, Reeve and Duncan left the dining room, by some tacit agreement, to have a private discussion. Cora announced that Miss Elisabeth needed a nap, as did her nanny, and hauled her protesting charge upstairs. That left Maggie with Eleanor, and, in an effort to be gracious, she helped clear the table.

For all that, the moment was awkward.

“You really shouldn’t be doing this,” Eleanor said remotely as she scraped plates and stacked them. “You’re the mistress of the house, after all, and you haven’t been well.”

Maggie felt an unexpected sympathy for the woman, and, holding a bowl of leftover potatoes in one hand and the platter the scones had been on in the other, she asked, “Eleanor, why do you want to be here so badly that you’d reduce yourself to a servant’s status?”

Eleanor met Maggie’s gaze for the first time since the meal had ended, and there were tears sparkling in her eyes. Maggie, who would never have been able to imagine this formidable woman crying, was taken aback. “Sometimes,” she said, “we have to settle for what we can get, Mrs. McKenna.” Eleanor’s look sharpened. “And when you’re big with child and not quite so receptive to your husband’s attentions, I expect to get plenty.”

Maggie was so stunned that her fingers went slack and the potato bowl dropped to the hardwood floor with a clatter. “You want to be Reeve’s mistress?” she marveled.