Molly Read Online Free Page B

she’s back, none of this will matter.”
    Molly couldn’t be sure who was speaking... Massive and Wiry? It couldn’t be Cheerful, he’d never spoken with such loathing.
    “He gives her too much. She does not have the capacity for this decision now.”
    There was a muffled thump, almost imperceptible, but it caused their conversation to halt.
     
    Silence.
     
    Molly nearly raised up then, but she heard one more comment. “It is right. You know that well.”
    She heard the clink of metal and stood, hastily straightening her skirts, to find the redhead walking toward her. Behind her were the shadows of three large figures moving toward the horses. Molly looked up, speculating whether she was crazy for thinking the redhead had dropped from the trees into their conversation.
    Their conversation about dead weight.
    “Come.”
    The redhead gestured and Molly nodded, her mouth dry. She swallowed hard and stepped through the brush. He would come for her. For his child. He would.
    They rode on. When they stopped for the day, she numbly took a seat on her blanket.
    Some time passed before Cheerful spoke. “You are quiet this evening.”
    He made a comment about her wicked pup and grinned. She tried a smile but faltered. She felt a little ill.
    “Are you well?” Cheerful asked, reaching up to lightly stroke her cheek, checking for heat.
    In spite of it all, there was heat; a flush tore through her at his touch. He grinned wickedly at her response.
    Suddenly, she lost all sense of balance. Her eyes floated for a moment before coming back to Steed. She swayed. Wait, who was Steed? Her eyes closed tight against the dizziness. And then she blacked out.
    When Molly woke, they surrounded her. They helped her up to sitting, seeming to care whether she was sound. It would have made her feel better, except they seemed exceedingly concerned with her condition. Unnaturally so. But Molly didn’t know what to do with that. She didn’t know what to do with any of it.
    Something was wrong.
    The feeling stuck with her. They left her be for some time and then, later, Cheerful returned to his place beside her. He’d been toying with the pup, but without warning came nearer.
    His proximity brought Molly from her daze, his tone this new, odd distress. “Feeling well, Sunshine?”
    Her mouth was dry. She licked her lips while searching for words.
    “Something to drink, then?”
    Unintentionally, Molly’s eyes found the dark-haired woman’s across the camp, met those dark emeralds and caught in their violent depths. Cheerful murmured something as he leaned forward to reach the canteen on the blanket behind her.
    Molly knew it wasn’t an advance. She absolutely understood what was happening. She thought. But, for some reason, seeming of its own accord, her arm swung full force as she slapped him across the face. She thought him an ass for one moment, and then swayed.
    Her vision fluttered and she squeezed her eyes shut, determined to control it. When she was certain she’d regained herself, she opened them again. She found him. Staring at her. Not going to be calling him Cheerful now, she thought. He didn’t look like he was going to kill her. Not that they ever did , she reminded herself.
    She quickly opened her mouth to apologize, and then saw the puffy red welt and the offending hand flew up to cover her mouth. Had she hit him that hard? Molly was no maid, she had slapped men before. But playfully, she had never struck with such force, her hand had never followed through as she'd seen the boys do when they came to blows. Her palm still tingled from the contact, stung even.
    “Are you well?” her victim asked in a level tone.
    Her hand fell from her mouth but she was yet unable to find words. He waited, staring into her eyes as if examining her.
    Once, Molly had slipped from her room to walk in the moonlight after a fine spring storm and found a field of freshly turned soil, dark with damp. She thought his eyes were richer than that