Oh dear, I should never have read this straight off the back of Wolf Hall. This book is such nonsense in comparison that I may not even have finished it if I had anything else to read. The writing is not so bad but the whole concept of using the Brontë sisters as amateur detectives is a real stretch of the imagination that I felt exasperated with it right from the start. In her defence, the author admits there is no evidence to suggest that the sisters did any such thing, but on the other hand, there is no evidence to say that they didn't. The mystery the dear sisters have to solve is the apparent bloody murder of a young bride in a neighbouring village. Even though they have no right to get involved at all, they dash off to visit the house and insist on having a good snoop around to look for clues. Over the course of the story, they lie to their father in order to get out of the house for days at a time and then help themselves to whatever private p...