Watching Ken, quiet and calm and Tom, young, vital, handsome, Elizabeth wondered if maybe they understood each other very well after all. Perhaps both had things they weren’t saying.

Not for the first time Elizabeth wondered about Tom Hancock. Why he’d chosen to minister to them, and why he stayed within the walls of old Quebec City. It took a certain personality, Elizabeth knew, to choose to live in what amounted to a fortress.

“Right, let’s start,” said Porter, sitting up even straighter.

“Winnie isn’t here yet,” said Elizabeth.

“We can’t wait.”

“Why not?” Tom asked, his voice relaxed. But still Porter heard a challenge.

“Because it’s already past ten thirty and you’re the one who wanted to make this quick,” Porter said, pleased at having scored a point.

Once again, thought Elizabeth, Porter managed to look at a friend and see a foe.

“Quite right. Still, I’m happy to wait,” smiled Tom, unwilling to take to the field.

“Well, I’m not. First order of business?”

They discussed the purchase of new books for a while before Winnie arrived. Small and energetic, she was fierce in her loyalty. To the English community, to the Lit and His, but mostly to her friend.

She marched in, gave Porter a withering look, and sat next to Elizabeth.

“I see you started without me,” she said to him. “I told you I’d be late.”

Excerpted from Bury Your Dead
by Louise Penny.
Copyright © 2010 by Louise Penny.
Published in October 2010 by Minotaur Books.
All rights reserved. This work is protected under copyright laws and reproduction is strictly prohibited. Permission to reproduce the material in any manner or medium must be secured from the Publisher.