Reeve’s jawline grew taut and then he thrust himself out of his chair with a suddenness that made Maggie start. But he only moved away, standing with his back to her, his gaze fixed on the empty fireplace. “Loretta is no longer my mistress,” he said in a voice so low that Maggie had to strain to hear him. “When I realized how much I wanted you, I asked her to leave my house.”

Maggie could imagine what it must feel like to know this magnificent man on an intimate basis and then be shunted out of his life without warning when he found someone new to dally with. If she gave in to Reeve McKenna and the feelings he stirred inside her, she would one day find herself in Loretta’s position, and the possibility didn’t bear considering. “I won’t be your courtesan, Mr. McKenna, so it appears that you have acted hastily.”

He turned slightly to regard Maggie with a sober expression that was somehow tainted with mockery at one and the same time. “I’m not the only one who has acted rashly, Miss Chamberlin. You gave me something last night that the man you marry will sorely miss.”

Even though the words had not been spoken in anger or contempt, they wounded Maggie because they were all too true. She was probably ruined for a decent man. She forced back tears, not willing to show Reeve any more weakness than she already had.

Reeve came and crouched before her chair, his voice gentle. “Have you considered the possibility, Maggie, that you may be carrying my child?”

Maggie’s eyes were shimmering when she lifted them to his face. Still unable to speak, she nodded.

“If you find out that you are pregnant, I want you to come to me immediately.”

“W-why?” Maggie managed to ask. She was thousands of miles from home, she was poor, she was facing a prospect that had driven other women to desperate lengths. The misery of it was quite nearly too much to bear.

Again, he took her hands. “Because I’ll marry you, Yank,” he said with quiet patience, as though he’d expected Maggie to know that a wealthy, powerful man such as himself would be interested in making a servant girl his true and legal wife.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious. Nothing in the world could matter to me as much as a child of my own.”

Maggie felt a certain sadness at his words, odd as it was. She wanted, on some level, to be the person who mattered most to Reeve McKenna. “But you have Elisabeth—”

“I love Elisabeth,” he answered softly, “but she isn’t my daughter, she’s my niece.”

Maggie swallowed. “But she calls you Papa.”

“That’s only because she doesn’t remember my brother.” Reeve’s eyes had a faraway look in them now; unconsciously, he fingered the brass medallion he was never without.