Carrie Bebris - The Deception At Lyme

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In Jane Austen’s
, the Cobb—Lyme’s famous seawall—proved dangerous to a careless young woman. Now it proves deadly.
Following their recent intrigue at Highbury, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy visit the seaside village of Lyme on holiday. Family business also draws them there, to receive the personal effects of Mr. Darcy’s late cousin, a naval lieutenant who died in action.
Their retreat turns tragic when they come upon a body lying at the base of the Cobb. The victim is Mrs. Clay, a woman with a scandalous past that left her with child—a child whose existence threatened the inheritance of one of her paramours and the reputation of another. Did she lose her balance and fall from the slippery breakwater, or was she pushed?
Mrs. Clay’s death is not the only one that commands the Darcys’ attention. When Mr. Darcy discovers, among his cousin’s possessions, evidence that the young lieutenant’s death might have been murder, he allies with Captain Frederick Wentworth (hero of Jane Austen's Persuasion) to probe details of a battle that took place across the sea . . . but was influenced by a conspiracy much closer to home.
The Deception at Lyme (Or, The Peril of Persuasion) is the delightful sixth installment in the critically acclaimed and award-winning Mr. and Mrs. Darcy mystery series by Carrie Bebris.

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As Darcy’s arms closed around Lily and lifted her, the child squealed in delight, oblivious to the hazard toward which she had raced. He brought her close and bent his head to her ear. Elizabeth could not hear his words as she left Georgiana’s side to catch up to them, but Lily-Anne nodded, and when Darcy set her down, she remained at his feet.

“So, you have decided to be obedient, have you?” Despite her stern tone, Elizabeth was not cross with her daughter. Lily-Anne was normally a well-behaved child; her sprint had been inspired by the novelty of new surroundings, and in truth, Elizabeth remained as eager as her daughter to see them. In fact, it had been Elizabeth who suggested walking to the Cobb shortly after breakfast. Despite sharing Lily-Anne’s exuberance, however, Elizabeth longed for the day when her little girl would possess sufficient understanding of the world to have a care for her own safety.

The great seawall had two levels. The lower Cobb—the harbor side of the wall—was level with the shore, and as the Cobb stretched into the sea, maintained a height equal to the harbor’s water level at high tide. It served as a broad walk upon which pedestrians and horse-drawn carts could access the harbor and reach the quay at its mouth. The lower wall was edged by the upper Cobb—the ocean side of the wall—which rose some nine feet higher than the lower Cobb to shelter the harbor from the sea’s great waves and winds.

Because of its height, the upper wall blocked much of the sea from the view of anyone on the lower. A broad stone staircase where the Cobb met the shore provided access from the lower wall to the upper, and upon their arrival, Elizabeth, Darcy, Lily-Anne, and Georgiana had climbed it to look upon the sea. Lily-Anne, however, had immediately gone charging to the wall’s edge.

Lily-Anne now wrapped one arm around Darcy’s leg and pointed with her other toward the ocean. “Sea.”

“Yes, Lily, that is the sea,” Darcy said. “And we would rather you not topple into it.”

The clouds that were building during last evening’s walk had settled in thick masses overnight. Mist hung heavy in the air, obscuring the horizon and coating the Cobb with a thin film of moisture. “She could slip on these stones,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps we should turn back and resume this walk another time, when the sun will have dried the pavement.”

“We are on a seawall, Elizabeth. There is a good chance these stones never entirely dry. Lily-Anne will be safe; we shall keep a close hold on her.”

“Sir Laurence did particularly recommend the view from the upper wall,” Georgiana said as she reached them. “Surely he would not have advised us to walk on it were it not safe.”

The top of the Cobb indeed offered an impressive view, even if at present the mist obscured it. They could no longer see the Portland lighthouse to the southeast that had been visible last night, and even nearer objects proved difficult to distinguish. Two ships approached port. The closer one, about to enter the harbor, appeared to move as if in a dream; the more distant vessel was barely discernible.

Elizabeth assessed the sky. Despite the rising sun, it was not growing lighter. However, the rain threatened by the clouds seemed to be holding off. She allowed herself to be persuaded.

They strolled on the upper wall at a leisurely pace. People from all strata of society left their footprints on the damp stones. Looking down to their left, they saw sailors on the lower Cobb hustling about their duties. A woman sat on a bench, resting her hands on the handle of a walking cane, watching the harbor—observing the dockmen at work, the carts headed toward the Customs House, the bobbing of fishing vessels and larger boats as the incoming tide freed them from their sandy groundings. The upper Cobb was less populated than the lower, doubtless due to its height and more weathered surface that pitched toward the open sea at a daunting angle along some stretches. Nevertheless, they were not the only pedestrians venturing upon it.

The thick mist seemed to suspend time and movement, yet the wind that buffeted them was anything but gentle. Completely exposed to the sea, those atop the high wall had no shield from the elements, and last night’s determined breeze had become this morn’s full gale. The damp air held a chill, enhanced by the sea spray that cascaded onto the wall when particularly forceful waves crashed against its base. Elizabeth was grateful that she had dressed Lily-Anne warmly, and wished she had thought to wear a spencer over her own muslin dress. She envied the foresight of a solitary woman standing near the harborside edge of the upper wall, away from the worst threat of the sea spray. The lady wore a long grey cape that ballooned about her in the wind.

The woman’s back was to their party, but as they passed, she turned her head. Her gaze met Elizabeth’s. There was a hardness in her countenance at odds with the fluid billowing of her attire, almost an embodiment of the unforgiving stone on which she balanced. Immediately discerning that Elizabeth and her companions were nobody of interest to her, the lady returned her attention to the shoreline.

At this point the lower Cobb forked. The branch along the harbor was a quay which hosted several buildings that seemed to primarily serve those loading and unloading docked boats. The southern arm, running behind the quay, extended the outer seawall at both upper and lower levels by an additional few hundred feet.

Another large wave crashed against the wall, sending up the highest spray of seawater they had yet seen. Cascading droplets christened them and fell in their path, forming rivulets that ran across the Cobb’s surface to puddle in the stone’s many depressions. Lily-Anne giggled, delighted by the unanticipated fountain.

Though not soaked, Elizabeth shivered. “Perhaps we should turn back.”

“We are almost to the end,” Georgiana said. “And Sir Laurence said—why, look! I believe there is the gentleman himself.”

A small stone staircase offered access to the lower wall at this end of the Cobb. Considerably narrower than the stairs Elizabeth and her family had used to mount the upper wall, these were hidden from view along most of the Cobb by the serpentine curve of the seawall and the buildings on the quay. Elizabeth might have entirely overlooked them had Sir Laurence’s ascent not drawn her attention.

When he reached the top and glanced in their direction, the baronet appeared as surprised as they to be meeting thus. “Miss Darcy!” He came immediately to them. “I did not expect the pleasure of escorting you on the Cobb until later today.”

“Nor I.”

Now that she had a closer view of the baronet, Elizabeth’s earlier impression of his good looks was confirmed. He had dark hair and eyes, strong, well-formed features, and an agreeable demeanor that was aristocratic but not pompous. Though he stood a little shorter than Darcy, he was his equal in handsomeness. From her sister-in-law’s demure smile and manner, Elizabeth suspected the bloom on Georgiana’s cheeks had little to do with the wind.

Sir Laurence greeted Darcy, who introduced Elizabeth and Lily-Anne. The baronet was all courtesy, expressing his happiness in meeting Elizabeth, and acknowledging the child with kind attention.

“Sea.” Lily pointed, in case the baronet had not noticed the vast expanse of water.

“I do see the sea,” he assured her with all seriousness—save a good-humored brightness in his eyes. He then turned to Georgiana. “And while this is not ideal weather, I think the sea exhibits a different sort of beauty—a wild magnificence—on days such as this. Did you walk down to the very end of the Cobb?”

“Not yet.”

“Then I beg you to allow me to accompany you.” He spoke to Georgiana, but his gaze extended the invitation to them all.

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