Molly mustered every ounce of strength and sat up to stare in amazement at the maid. “Did you say ‘Bailey’?”The woman smiled slyly, revealing a mouth with half the teeth God intended. “I told you, I’m not one to tell tales. Mr. Morgan has a different Mrs. Morgan every time he travels this stretch of track, but do I say anything? No. I’ll keep your secrets to the grave.”“Who said anything about Bailey?” Molly persisted.“You did. Last night you wouldn’t quiet down until Mr. Pierrepont held you—brought a tear to my eye, no less—and you were crying, ‘Hold me, Bailey. Please don’t leave me.’”Molly could feel the chill start at the base of her spine and work its way up. She groaned and clutched the blankets. Why hadn’t Edward thrown her out this morning? Instead he’d gone for a preacher. No wonder he was reluctant.She gritted her teeth together. She’d make it up to him. She couldn’t school her dreams, but she could discipline her behavior. Her actions would never cause him to question her loyalty.
