Romancing Miss Bronte Read Online Free PDF Page B

wall.
    “Papa,” Charlotte whispered, “Mr. Nicholls is speaking to you.”
    “Do I hunt?” Patrick repeated, swinging his dim gaze in Arthur’s direction. “No, sir. But I served in Lord Palmerston’s regiment at Oxford and have, by necessity and training, acquired a great appreciation for weaponry. I lived through the Luddite uprisings and we would not have been so foolish as to walk outdoors unarmed.” He leaned back in his chair and spread open his jacket to reveal the pistol at his belt. “Habit, I suppose. I should feel quite exposed without it.”
    Charlotte glanced up at Arthur, anticipating his discomfort. Inevitably there would be a shocked reaction. He would ask if the pistol was loaded, which it was. But Arthur surprised her.
    He nodded solemnly. “I suspect it serves you well in these parts.”
    “Indeed,” Patrick said. “We are all warriors for Christ. We do not weaken even in the heat of battle, even with the enemy surrounding us. We are sustained even at the darkest hour by belief in our cause. Belief in ourselves.”
    “Amen.”
    “Amen.”
    During all this time, Mr. Smith’s mouth had been full of Tabby’s spice cake. But once he was sated and had washed the last bites down with copious quantities of tea, there was nothing to restrain him from joining the discussion.
    “I tell you, the best way to serve the Yorkshiremen is to leave them alone. And they never forget a harm done to them. Remember that.” He dabbed his mouth with his napkin and leaned back in his chair. “It’s a backward place, and there’s no high society to speak of. If you’re a man of refinement, as I observe you are, Mr. Nicholls, you’ll be begging to get out in no time.”
    “Don’t let yourself be discouraged, Nicholls,” Sutcliffe Sowden said. He was a tall, delicate man with a calm and friendly demeanor. “We have made great strides in the district and Mr. Brontë does a commendable job of dealing with them. He’s your example to follow. You’ll never meet a man more patient or impartial when it comes to arbitrating between the locals. He’s greatly respected, by churchmen and dissenters alike.”
    And that statement opened up the floodgates. Charlotte happened to be refilling their cups; she glanced up and saw that Arthur had gone a deep red, and she wondered if perhaps he had bitten down on a bit of nutshell in his spice cake.
    “I should not think it much of a compliment to be respected by the dissenters,” he said sternly.
    At this, Patrick’s eyebrow rose. “May I assume from that statement that you are intolerant of dissent?”
    “How can I possibly be tolerant of a schismatic sect that wishes to destroy the established church and bring down all of England? Because that’s what will happen,” he said heatedly.
    Charlotte observed him keenly. His massive frame seemed to be threatened with upheaval, an eruption just waiting to blow.
    “I see you have been influenced by the Oxford movement,” Mr. Brontë said.
    “I align myself with all those who seek to block the advance of liberalism in religious thought,” he explained.
    “You’ll need to get along with the nonconformists if you want to be effective,” Patrick said matter-of-factly. “This is a disaffected population, and the dissenters are flourishing here in the north. They outnumber us two to one.”
    “I intend to change those statistics, sir,” he said confidently. “I know the Baptists and the Methodists have built their schools here in the district, and their attendance has grown. But as part of my duties I intend to expand our own church school and make it flourish. The dissenters are a radical influence, and they should be eradicated like the plague that they are.”
    Patrick smiled again at this, and said, “Well, Mr. Nicholls, I gather I need not ask you to serve on any arbitration committee with me.”
    “Indeed, sir, I would have to decline,” he said proudly, and held his cup out to Charlotte for more