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Chapters (63)
  1. Cover
  2. BRONTË SISTERS MYSTERIES
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Haworth Parsonage, April 1852
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. "Music on Christmas Morning"
  60. Author’s Note
  61. Acknowledgements
  62. About the Author
  63. What’s next onyour reading list?

Lady Hartley tilted her head to one side as she watched Charlotte, rather as a cat watches its prey. She was standing between Charlotte and the door, the only other means of exit from that opulent room. And what was more, she was holding something that glinted in the firelight. Charlotte’s eyesight was ever failing her, but now she cursed it more than ever, for she was very afraid that Lady Hartley was in possession of a knife.

“You have been wrong at every turn,” Lady Hartley said, her face taut, stretched into a grimace. “But you are not now, Charlotte. You do me a disservice to think I will be taken in by your playacting. I applaud your courage and ingenuity, however. You see, you are really much more remarkable than you know. I wish you could see for yourself how very splendid you are. But let’s speak plainly now as friends and kindred spirits. I am the monster you have been searching for, and you ought to be very afraid of me.”

“I am very afraid of you,” Charlotte said. And then, in the space of but three seconds, she picked up a vase from a small table and swung it with all her might, hitting Catherine in the cheek, shards of the shattering china exploding outward.

Her face badly cut, Catherine shrieked in fury; the blade sliced through the air.

Charlotte gathered her skirts and ran.

48

Emily

“The cart,” Emily said to John Brown. “We need the cart to take Anne and me at once to Oakhope Hall.”

“Daughters,” Papa asked them, his voice trembling, “where is Charlotte?”

“She is with Lady Hartley, Papa,” Anne said, “and she doesn’t know the danger she is in.”

“We must go to her at once,” Emily said. “I have not driven a cart before, but I imagine it cannot be very hard.”

“But what about my boy?” Martin asked. “What about Joseph?”

“The only one who can answer that is Catherine Hartley,” Emily said. “The cart will go faster with just me and Anne. We’ll go at once.”

“You cannot go alone,” Mr. Nicholls said. “I will accompany you.”

“You will stay with Papa,” Emily ordered. “Branwell, you may come, and do not tarry.”

“And I,” Liston said, his eyes blazing. “And none shall dissuade me.”

Molly wept, turning into Bess’s embrace.