BooksBarbecue
Back The Diabolical Bones Save as PDF
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?

“This is unlike you, Anne,” Charlotte said. “You are always so pragmatic and sensible. Explain yourself.”

“That is true”—Anne nodded—“and yet I can’t help thinking about Papa coming into the dining room this morning. He seemed so fragile and weakened. Somehow the events of last night wended their way into Papa’s dreams and frightened him. The truth is, we are adding to Papa’s suffering because of the secrets we keep from him and because he is afraid for us. So the least we can do is to try our best to be safe.”

“But the very worst that can happen to us at Ponden Hall is that Robert Heaton proposes to me again,” Emily said.

“Besides, we are stronger together,” Anne persisted. “Charlotte, you have a gift for reading people and drawing them out of themselves. Emily, you see connections and clues that a mind inferior to yours would simply not be able to fathom.”

“When you say inferior, can you clarify the context?” Charlotte asked primly.

“As for myself, I keep our minds focused on the reasons behind it all: the human reasons why we must not let our detecting descend into petty squabbles.” Anne looked pointedly at her sister. “And Branwell—well, Branwell provides us access into rooms where lone women might not otherwise go and sometimes provides a fairly adequate distraction. When we are together, we are stronger and we are safer.”

Her words seemed visibly to hearten her sisters, who smiled and nodded at each other, and even Branwell lifted his head from the table, glad to be part of their party. Linking hands, they formed a four-cornered coalition of wits, determination, cleverness and cunning.

“Very well, then, we may all go to Ponden. The Riordans will be at their looms anyway, so it seems sensible,” Emily said with a magnanimous sigh, “so long as once we are in the library nobody talks unless I give them express permission.”

“One moment, Emily,” Charlotte said at once, following Emily out of the dining room. “I do not believe that we went through the proper channels deciding who should lead the expedition to the library. Surely we should each make a case and then draw a conclusion . . . ?”

“Has Robert Heaton ever proposed to you?” Emily asked.

“Emily Jane, why must you always be so . . . ?”

“There might well be greater safety in numbers,” Anne said to Branwell as her sisters squabbled. “But there is certainly a great deal more peace and quiet in solitude.”

20

Emily

Ponden Hall was a stout old house nestled in the crook of a gentle hill on the way up to Ponden Kirk, one of Emily’s most favoured places in all the world. The last few hundred yards up to the hall were completed by traversing a fine broad avenue lined with chestnut trees that lent the house a sense of hard-earned grandeur.