Free Rebel Temptress (Historical Romance) by Constance O'Banyon

critically. Her skin was soft and smooth, but she had always had good skin. Her eyes were the same green they had always been. Her hair did seem to have more life in it. It looked almost silver in color, and it was long and curled down her back and about her face. She could not see that she had really changed.
    She removed her clothes and surveyed her naked body. She had put on weight, that was true. She noticed with shocked surprise that her breasts had grown larger. She had been so busy working that she had paid little attention to her own appearance. She pulled her nightgown over her head and sat down on the foot of the bed. Was she pretty? It was hard for her to judge her own looks.
    Darcy came in with Honor's nightly glass of milk and stood over her, waiting for her to empty the glass. "You drink every bit of this milk, It's good for you."
    "Oh, Darcy, that is what you say every night. I am no longer a child that you should insist I drink my milk because it is good for me."
    "Uh huh, and ain't I right? You look healthy as can be."
    "Darcy, do you think I have changed?"
    "You put a little meat on them bones. Ain't that enough?"
    "I mean, do you think I am pretty?"
    Darcy put her hands on her hips. "Well, course I thinks you pretty. Ain't I always said pretty is as pretty does? If you acts pretty, then you is pretty."
    "Darcy, look at me," Honor said in exasperation. "Am I changed?"
    The black woman smiled and hugged her tightly. "My little lamb was always pretty to me."
    Honor lay down wearily. Darcy would not tell her what she wanted to know. "I think I will go to sleep early tonight. I seem to be so tired lately."
    "No wonder. You rush around all day, most time not eating. Now, drink your milk."
    "I do not want it, Darcy. Lately it makes me sick to my stomach."
    Darcy's black eyes snapped open. "How long has you been getting sick at your stomach?"
    "I don't know. Two weeks, maybe more. It does not last long though."
    "How long Master Jordan been gone now?"
    "I don't know. What has that to do with anything?"
    Darcy sat down on the bed and looked into Honor's face. "How long has he been gone?"
    Honor looked at the ceiling, trying to calculate. "About three months, I guess. Yes, it would be three months now. Why do you ask?"
    "I have a suspicion you is going to have a baby."
    "A baby. Me? How could . . . oh, no, please not that," Honor cried. "I could not bear it."
    Darcy put a comforting arm around her. "It won't be so bad, honey. I would like to hold your baby in my arms. Yes, surely I would."
    Honor sat up and laid her head against Darcy's ample bosom and cried in agony. "I do not want to have Jordan's baby. I detest him."
    The black woman rocked her back and forth, speaking soothing words to her all the while. When Honor stopped crying, Darcy dried her eyes. "I never asked you what went on the night you was married, but I have my suspicions. You can't blame an innocent baby for the sins of his father."
    "I wish I could tear the baby from my body. I do not want to have his baby."
    "Hush honey, it is sinful to talk that way. You just wait until you hold your baby in your arms. You will love it then. Maybe when Master Jordan finds out about the baby, things will be good between you?"
    "No, he mustn't find out, Darcy. Promise you will tell no one about this."
    "Well, sure, honey, but before long everyone will know anyway."
    "I do not want anyone to know."
    "Honey, you is upset with Master Jordan now, but a man feels a special way for the woman who has his baby. You will see that old Darcy speaks the truth."
    "Jordan does not want me. He wants Meagan. He will not love a baby that I give him."
    "You sleep on it, honey. Things always look darkest at night."
    But Honor did not sleep. She lay awake, thinking about the baby she would have, a baby that would not be welcomed by her or Jordan. Soon she would be fat and clumsy. She had seen women who were with child, and she did not want to look the way they did.
    She felt trapped in