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Back A Man of Honour Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. PART ONE
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. PART TWO
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. PART THREE
  38. THIRTY-THREE
  39. THIRTY-FOUR
  40. THIRTY-FIVE
  41. THIRTY-SIX
  42. THIRTY-SEVEN
  43. THIRTY-EIGHT
  44. THIRTY-NINE
  45. FORTY
  46. FORTY-ONE
  47. FORTY-TWO
  48. FORTY-THREE
  49. FORTY-FOUR
  50. PART FOUR
  51. FORTY-FIVE
  52. FORTY-SIX
  53. FORTY-SEVEN
  54. FORTY-EIGHT
  55. FORTY-NINE
  56. FIFTY
  57. FIFTY-ONE
  58. FIFTY-TWO
  59. FIFTY-THREE
  60. PART FIVE
  61. FIFTY-FOUR
  62. FIFTY-FIVE
  63. FIFTY-SIX
  64. FIFTY-SEVEN
  65. FIFTY-EIGHT
  66. FIFTY-NINE
  67. SIXTY
  68. SIXTY-ONE
  69. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  70. Keep Reading …
  71. About the Author
  72. Also by Barbara Taylor Bradford
  73. About the Publisher

‘Yes, please,’ the three of them said in unison; a moment later Cook was serving them. She then brought a small plate of three warm teacakes to the table. ‘Help yourself, Siobhan,’ she ordered, and looked across at Blackie and Michael. ‘Don’t be shy. Enjoy a teacake, me boyos. I’ve made a large batch for the family for later.’

They did as she asked, their mouths watering at the sight of the teacakes. This week was turning into a good one for food.

Once breakfast was over, Michael and Siobhan went to change into their work clothes, and Blackie remained seated at the table.

‘I’ll join ye for a second,’ Mrs O’Rourke said, and smiled at Blackie. She had worked for the Lassiters for many years, and as a local woman she had watched him grow up, and was fond of him and his cousins.

She pursed her lips, and said in a low voice, ‘I’ve a suitcase for ye, Blackie. It belonged to my son, Conor. I don’t think ye knew him. He was the one in the Indian army. He got killed there in an accident.’ She shook her head, and a flash of sadness slid across her face. ‘Not even fighting for Queen and country, and he had to go and die like that! In an accident. In a foreign land.’

‘I’m sorry, Mrs O’Rourke. Ye have told me much about Conor, and he must have been a lovely young man.’

‘Aye, he was that.’ She stood. ‘Well, we must get on; talking about him won’t bring him back. I’m going to get ye the suitcase. Back in a tick.’

Blackie watched her ample figure moving over to a large cupboard at the end of the kitchen. Although she was plump, he thought how graceful she was. And she certainly had a kind heart. She had often spoken to him about Conor, and when he had wondered out loud why he was in the Indian army, she had explained it to him. ‘It’s the British army in India, with British officers and regular soldiers, but Indian soldiers as well. Mostly there to keep the peace, I suspect. There’s always rumblings in India.’

Mrs O’Rourke returned to the fireside carrying the suitcase. After placing it on a chair, she turned the key in the lock, opened the lid, then glanced at him. ‘Look inside, Blackie, it’s brand new.’

‘I can see that it’s as clean as a whistle. Perfect size for me. Thank ye.’ He cleared his throat and stared at her. ‘Are ye sure ye want to part with this? It’s a grand suitcase. Ye might need it.’