Carrie Bebris - The Deception At Lyme

“I have heard his name mentioned in connexion with some incidents aboard the Magna Carta during his period as first lieutenant.”

“What sort of incidents?” Croft’s earlier jocularity had faded; he was now more the flag officer preparing to hear an unwelcome report.

“The discovery of some unusual cargo. And the action with the Dangereuse .”

“Where did you hear of this?”

“A friend whose cousin served with him.”

The admiral was quiet for a moment. Standing beside a shelf upon which rested several nautical instruments, he picked up Wentworth’s sextant. “Assure your friend that if there was anything amiss, the Admiralty would have addressed it.”

“The Admiralty was busy fighting a war when these incidents occurred. The lords might not even be aware of them.”

“Because they might not exist. Or they might not be what they appear.” He slid the sextant’s arm along its scale. “You are hearing of this thirdhand, years after the fact. Jettison it from your thoughts.”

“That will not be easy.”

“Frederick, if something inappropriate did happen aboard that ship, for the sake of your career, you do not want to be involved. Not every enemy should be engaged; sometimes it is best to let one pass.” He returned the sextant to the shelf. “I will pay a call to St. Clair if it will relieve your conscience, but I want you to drop the matter.”

Wentworth knew not what to say. This was a side of Croft he had seldom seen. In all the years of their acquaintance, he had known Croft primarily as a brother and mentor, not as a commanding officer. They had spent most of the war on different seas. Wentworth had never been on the admiral’s flagship during action, had not seen him plot strategy, had not heard him issue orders.

Had not felt the weight of words he left unsaid.

Admiral Croft, sensing Wentworth’s discomfort, forced a laugh. “Come, Frederick, do not a new wife and son warrant more of your attention than some long-ago incidents on a ship you were not even responsible for? You are a husband and father—you have new orders now. Take care of your family. And of Mrs. Smith. That good lady was saying again today how your friendship has improved her condition tremendously. By the way, she mentioned something about your helping her reclaim her husband’s estate?”

The admiral’s being more himself again, Wentworth shook off his own unease. “Yes. Mr. Smith’s West Indian property is enmeshed in a legal tangle.”

“Then that is another matter you should drop. If there are solicitors involved, they are the only ones sure of seeing any money. Let the pirates sort it out.”

When Darcy next met with Wentworth, he sensed disquietude in the captain. They retired to Wentworth’s study, where his host poured wine as before and invited Darcy to take a seat. He chose the newly mended chair, commenting that it seemed the repair had proved successful.

“I wish I could say the same for my enquiries,” Wentworth replied.

Darcy wished so, too, and had come in expectation of hearing something useful to their investigation. He would not, however, allow disappointment to overtake him until he heard Wentworth out. “Were you able to learn anything?”

“I was. To begin with, the Musgrove your cousin mentioned is in fact the Dick Musgrove I knew. He not only served aboard the Magna Carta at the same time as your cousin, he also died on it—though in a different action. I asked his mother to forward me a copy of the letter Captain Tourner sent at the time.”

He handed Darcy the letter. It included few particulars, and was very similar to what the Fitzwilliams had received from Captain Tourner upon Gerard’s death: It is with deep regret that I must write to inform you … died in action against … fought bravely … take comfort in knowing … an honorable death in service to His Majesty.… So similar, in fact, that it was almost the same letter.

Darcy returned the letter to Wentworth. “What about Lieutenant St. Clair?”

“His history required more probing than I anticipated.” Wentworth folded the letter and set it on his otherwise clear desk. “Andrew St. Clair has had a curious career. He comes from a landed but not extraordinarily wealthy family, and entered the Royal Naval College at age thirteen. He completed his Plan of Learning in just two years’ time, earning the notice of the Lords of the Admiralty, and after a year at sea he was raised to the rate of midshipman. He distinguished himself both during and outside of battle; under Captain—now Admiral—Croft, he was on several occasions chosen to navigate captured prize ships into port, and eventually served as a master’s mate—sort of a senior midshipman, with more responsibility. He sat for the lieutenant’s examination as soon as he was eligible, passed on his first attempt, and was promoted at nineteen to second lieutenant of the war sloop Temper .

“The Temper saw considerable action, and Lieutenant St. Clair performed well enough to earn appointment to a ship of the line, the Claudius. Since he moved to the Magna Carta, however, his career seems to have stalled. Though from there he went on to ships that have participated in significant battles and taken prizes, he has bounced from appointment to appointment in a series of essentially lateral positions, never receiving promotion above lieutenant.”

“Is that unusual?”

“Given the promise he demonstrated early in his career, I would expect him to have made post-captain by now, but he has not even risen to commander. It could simply be that other candidates with superior naval connexions have been given preference, but when I hear of a record such as this—frequent moves between ships, with no true advancement—it often signals a troublesome officer that every captain wishes to quietly pass off to someone else. We all suffer them. The fact that the beginnings of St. Clair’s professional stagnancy appear to coincide with his service aboard the Magna Carta —scene of the dubious behavior you reported to me—leads me to wonder if that is indeed the case here.”

“Did Admiral Croft offer any insight?”

Wentworth hesitated. “No. In fact, he discouraged me from pursuing this further. Most of what I did manage to learn, I obtained from other sources before I spoke with him.”

“Were you able to discover anything about the Magna Carta ’s action with the Dangereuse, beyond what St. Clair imparted to me?”

“Very little. From what I did find out, it seems the engagement was a debacle. The Magna Carta was escorting two merchant vessels—the Montego and the Port Royal. They were approached by a French frigate and a war sloop. The Port Royal made off with haste—merchant ships often do in such situations, getting out of the way and letting their warship escort do its job—but the Montego remained. Tourner initially had the advantage of position; as the French ship advanced, he had an opportunity to wear round and rake her, but he would not engage. Instead, he tried to outrun the Dangereuse. The French closed in, started firing broadsides, and crippled the Magna Carta to the point where they grappled and boarded. Were it not for the Montego firing some lucky shots that dismasted the sloop, Tourner would surely have been boarded by the crews of both French vessels and lost his ship. As it was, the Magna Carta was fortunate enough to prevail in melee and force the French boarding party to retreat. Tourner was lucky to avoid a court-martial over the encounter.”

“Why would he not engage?”

“That, I could not determine. The only person who knows with certainty is Captain Tourner himself. And perhaps his second-in-command: Lieutenant St. Clair.”