‘I’ve never seen any creature more frightened and yet headstrong in my life,’ Cullen said to the convict assigned to him as a farm labourer. ‘She’s with child. Her story will be interesting. No doubt we’ll learn more about Miss Elizabeth Bartlett over supper.’
The house was quiet and the fire out when Cullen and his labourer returned for supper. Obvious to both men that the new addition was asleep, they fell into their familiar routine and prepared the evening meal.
‘Make enough for the new miss?’ asked the convict. Cullen nodded.
The mainstay of the evening meal since Anne Coombes had left was bread, often stale, corn, dried beef or pork and a big mug of sweet tea. ‘I hope she can cook,’ Cullen said as he put the plates on the table.
‘Yes, I can cook. Is that all you want me for? To c
