Free Always Emily by Michaela MacColl Page B

coughing?”
    â€œNo, nothing like that,” Charlotte said sharply. “And yourself? Are you recovered?”
    Emily nodded. “Today is the first day I’ve been permitted out. I’m going to take full advantage,” she said. She opened thegate and stepped out. “I’ll see you at supper.” Leaving Charlotte slack-jawed with surprise, Emily ran up the path toward the moors.
    â€œCharlotte!” Tabby stood in the front door, drying her hands on a dishtowel. As always, her pale straw-colored hair had escaped from her untidy bun and flew about her face. “We didn’t know you were coming home!”
    Charlotte went inside, followed by the driver carrying her small valise. She gave him a coin for his trouble.
    â€œI’m only home for a few days, Tabby,” Charlotte explained. “Where is Father? And Aunt B.? And Branwell?”
    â€œWell, you’ve just missed your aunt. She’s gone.”
    â€œGone where? She never goes anywhere.”
    Tabby grinned as though her face would break. “She’s off to Scarborough with Anne.”
    â€œAmazing,” Charlotte said, but inwardly she seethed. Everyone seemed to have adventures but her. “And Father?”
    â€œHe was called out to that Mr. Grimes who’s always dying, but never dies,” Tabby said.
    â€œWhat about Branwell? I thought he at least would be here.” Unspoken was the thought running at the tops of both their minds: Branwell doesn’t have anywhere else to be.
    Tabby’s smile disappeared from her face as though she’d wiped it away with a polishing cloth. “Branwell is visiting some friends.”
    â€œWho?”
    With a shrug of her ample shoulders, Tabby said, “He’s always going to a meeting or someone’s house and he won’t ever say anything about it.” She looked around as if to spy an eavesdropper in the flagstoned hallway. “He’s drinking. Ever since he went to that fancy art school in London and returned a scant week later, he’s been acting strangely. Your father’s worried.”
    Charlotte followed Tabby into the kitchen. Tabby opened the bin where she kept the vegetables and began to chop celery and onions. Glancing at Charlotte, she said kindly, “I’m sure everyone will be home soon for supper.”
    â€œI saw Emily going out,” Charlotte said. “She looked healthy.” Try as she might, she could hear the bitterness in her own voice. “She’s recovered miraculously quickly.”
    Tabby gave Charlotte a sharp look. “Thank the Lord for that. And thank goodness you were there at school to look after her. She was ever so ill; your father was mortally afeared she was going to die. I’ve never seen him so fretful.”
    â€œOf course he was,” Charlotte said.
    â€œNone of that green-eyed monster, Miss Charlotte. It doesn’t suit you,” Tabby scolded. “We would have been just as distressed for you.”
    â€œI doubt it,” Charlotte muttered, but too low for Tabby to hear over her chopping.
    â€œSit down, child, and stop fretting no one is here to greet you when you didn’t tell them you were coming! How was your journey?”
    â€œIt was fine,” Charlotte said, settling herself on a stool. “My trip was uneventful until a few miles away from Bradford. Then the oddest thing happened.”
    She described the woman who had stopped the carriage and how Mr. Robert Heaton had taken her away without so much as a word. “Tabby, you know everyone around here.”
    Tabby paused in her chopping. “That I do.”
    â€œWho was she? Mr. Heaton said she was a dependent of the family.”
    Tabby paused, as if she had to gather all the details buried deep in her capacious memory. “I’ve never heard about any dependents. It’s not a large family. But Robert Heaton had a sister once.” Tabby sighed. “Hers was a