Code of Honor (Australian Destiny Book #1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

and headed left toward the house.
    The house, like the pigeon, seemed to hold its breath as if in suspended animation, cool and dark and silent. Where was everybody? Without Kathleen’s bounding good cheer the kitchen sulked, abandoned. Samantha inexplicably felt abandoned, too. She took a turn through the rooms, fluffing already-fluffy pillows, straightening doo-dads that were not in disarray, preparing the house to picture-perfection should unexpected visitors drop by.
    Surely Kathleen was back by now. Perhaps Samantha ought to walk up to the stables to see if she could use some help unhitching. No, of course not; Fat Dog would be putting away the wagon team, not Kathleen; besides, Mr. Sloan was certainly there now. It might appear as if Samantha were chasing after him. That would never do.
    Her stroll along the beach had been quite pleasant. Why did Samantha feel so irritated, so out of sorts? Nothing in the day should have put her on edge like this … unless it was Mr. Sloan’s spy mission.
    As Samantha returned to the empty kitchen, Linnet entered the back door. The girl looked like something a cat had dragged through a swamp. Chocolate-colored mud, green slime and putrid brown water spoiled her black skirt as well as her apron. Her hair hung in muddy strings where the bun had been teased loose.
    “Linnet, whatever … ! Yer clothes are never going to come clean!”
    She smiled broadly. “Fat Dog’s wife, a woman named … oh, what is her name? I forget. Anyway, she was showing me how to dig out these roots along the creek. Ye find them in swampy areas, ye see. She says they taste good roasted, but what she uses them for is to make her hair glossy soft. She says ye pound them and then rinse the juice through yer hair after ye’ve washed it.”
    “Ye’re supposed to be laundering the bed linen and mending the ripped seam in that blue dust ruffle.”
    “I’ll get it done.”
    “Linnet, Mr. Sloan, he’s not paying ye to pursue roots through swamps. The work comes first; ye know that. Now go clean yerself up. Meself’s never seen such a royal mess. Sew up the dust ruffle and then start the washing. Perhaps if the man sees the ruffle’s mended, he’ll not think about the laundry. Run off now!”
    “Meg’s right, Sam; ye fret too much about work. Nothing wrong with a spell away from work. Kathleen’s out enjoying a bit of a holiday herself, until time to start dinner. And she be as hard a worker as any.”
    “She was up before dawn and deserves the break. Ye slept in to breakfast. Go get busy. And set those clothes to soaking, though I doubt it’ll do any good. They’re spoilt, ye know.”
    Linnet almost left. But she paused in the doorway, turned and leaned against the jamb. “Why is it ye be constantly cross with me when ye never speak to anyone else in that tone of voice?”
    “Because ye’re not pulling yer full weight. Ye lollygag too much. This isn’t some lark ye set out upon, sailing halfway round the world to have a bit of fun. ’Tis hard work with much expected of ye. At the tobacconist’s ye could slack off a bit. Not here.”
    “Slack off? Hardly! Me days be filled up.”
    “But not with anything productive. Ye could’ve stayed in Cork and done as much as ye’re doing now, and Mr. Sloan wouldn’t be out a boat passage.”
    “Sure and yerself sailed around the world just so ye could work harder than ye might in Cork. Balderdash, Sam; ye’re here to find a man, same as Meg and I, for men be few and far between back home.”
    “And how would ye be knowing that? Ye left home before ye even tried.”
    A maddening half smile hardened Linnet’s soft round face. “Ah, now I see the light. ’Tis more’n all right for Sam to go traipsing across the face of the earth, even though her dear brother be not but weeks in his grave. All right for Meg, too, perhaps, with her Sean Morley dead as well. But not Linnet. Linnet ought t’ stay home and comfort the grieving parents so that Meg and