Reeve sighed. At this rate it would be morning before he could indulge the desires that had been plaguing him ever since Miss Maggie Chamberlin had so gracelessly entered his cabin on board the ship. “Philip Briggs promised to marry her, Loretta,” he said. “She came all the way from England expecting to be his wife. The least I can do is see that she’s properly looked after.”

Loretta’s hands tightened on Reeve’s collar. “I fail to see why it should be your responsibility to clean up after poor Philip.”

Reeve had never loved Loretta, but he had liked her, and heartily. Now, strangely, that worthy emotion was fading away. At the look he gave her, Loretta let go her grip on his collar and instead traced the circumference of the brass charm hidden in the thick hair that covered his chest.

“Are you tiring of me, Reeve?” she asked softly, and Reeve realized with a start that perhaps he was. In fact, he had to admit that he wished that it were Maggie Chamberlin coming to his home and his bed.

He was silent, and Loretta wriggled against him, reminding him of her singular skills. Her gaze strayed toward the lighted shed where the emigrants would wait out the long night. There was a wistful expression on her face, visible even in the darkness.

“I see I’ll have to be very, very careful to keep you happy, my love,” she said. “Very careful indeed.”

Reeve, feeling a raw ache where there had once been real affection for Loretta, ushered her somewhat roughly to the carriage and climbed in after her. “How is Elisabeth?” he asked once the vehicle was rolling and rattling over the cobblestones.

Loretta gave a sigh and snuggled a little closer to Reeve on the leather seat, well aware that her breast touched his upper arm as she reached up to take off her hat. “She’s been a perfect horror ever since you left,” she answered. “Fortunately, your niece is her nanny’s problem, not mine.”

“That’s fortunate indeed,” Reeve retorted evenly.

Loretta bristled. “Reeve, you know we agreed that I would have no responsibilities whatsoever where the child is concerned!”

“Elisabeth is alone in the world except for us. Are you completely void of womanly feelings, Loretta?”

“You know very well, Reeve McKenna, that I don’t lack for ’womanly feelings.’ It’s just that I’m an actress of some renown, that’s all—I have a reputation—”

“If being my mistress didn’t ruin your reputation, why should mothering Elisabeth do it any damage?”

The light of streetlamps along the way caught in the huge tears that had arisen in Loretta’s beautiful brown eyes. “What’s come over you, Reeve? Why are you being so difficult—is it that girl back there? That emigrant?”

Reeve remained silent.

“So I was right,” Loretta whispered in despair. “You want her, don’t you, Reeve?”