Moments later Reeve came in, carrying Elisabeth in one arm and grinning like the besotted fool he was—when it came to that child. On catching sight of Loretta, his jawline tightened and the smile was gone. Gently, he asked Elisabeth to go and see if Cook was making pie for dinner as promised, and let the child down to the floor.

To Loretta’s well-hidden annoyance, Elisabeth raced off to do his bidding.

Loretta decided that the best defense was an offense and asked sweetly, “Am I to assume that your little arrangement with that American girl was nipped in the bud before it could bloom?”

Reeve’s face suddenly lost all color and his eyes were hot with anger, searing Loretta’s flesh wherever they touched. She turned away to pour brandy for him and for herself, inwardly bracing herself against his fury.

“I wasn’t planning to install Maggie in a gilded cage and have my way with her, Loretta. I merely wanted to make sure that she would be looked after.”

The chilly calm in Reeve’s voice found its way into Loretta’s ramrod-straight backbone and caused her to shiver. All the same, she was smiling brightly when she turned around, a crystal snifter of brandy in each hand. “So it’s ’Maggie’ now, is it?” She extended one of the snifters to Reeve and he slapped it out of her hand, sending it shattering against the face of the fireplace. Loretta retreated a step, taking a healthy sip of her brandy to steady herself and then going boldly on. “Did Philip get there in time to spoil everything? How terrible for you if he did.”

“So you did send him.” The words Reeve spoke were cold as ice, and yet they scalded.

“It was nothing any other jealous mistress wouldn’t have done. Can you honestly blame me for trying to protect my interests?”

For a moment Reeve looked as though he might strike her, something he had never, even in the hottest anger, done before. He raised his hand, then withdrew it, ran it through his hair, and turned away.

“I spoke with Lady Cosgrove a few minutes ago,” he said evenly, after a long and ragged silence. “Do you know where Maggie is, Loretta?”

Loretta took another sip of brandy and shrugged. “How could I know, darling?” she countered. She was not the cool and composed woman she seemed; she was playing a part.

“She’s taken a post in Duncan Kirk’s house,” Reeve answered, turning around now, folding his arms and resting his broad back against the mantelpiece. “She’s a governess.”

Loretta could no longer maintain her facade; she was on dangerous ground now, for Reeve hated Duncan Kirk as he’d never hated another person. The fact that Duncan had inadvertently scored a triumph by taking a woman Reeve wanted into his household would compound Loretta’s offense. She allowed a tear to slip down her face.