Carrie Bebris - The Deception At Lyme

“What will happen to the ship now?” Georgiana asked.

“That smaller vessel over there will tow her to the quay, where they will finish fitting her out,” Sir Laurence replied. “She is such a large ship, however, that once she has anchors and other necessities, she might moor outside the Cobb at times if the harbor is particularly busy.”

As the crowd began to disband, Elizabeth looked for Mr. Elliot, wondering whether he would simply depart along with everybody else. Apparently, he had. She did, however, sight Lieutenant St. Clair, whom she had not previously seen at the launch. He was speaking to Captain Tourner, who was shaking his head.

She stepped closer to Darcy. “I wish we could hear that conversation. It does not appear to be going well.”

Tourner shook his head again and started to walk away. St. Clair said something that caused him to turn around. He shrugged, said something back, and walked off. St. Clair did not follow.

Meanwhile, Georgiana and Sir Laurence apparently at last had become aware that there were other people around them, for Miss Ashford was now participating in their conversation.

“Never?” Miss Ashford looked at Georgiana with an incredulous expression.

“Never.”

“Well, we must correct that posthaste,” Sir Laurence declared. “Mr. Darcy, your sister is telling us that she has never in her life been in a boat of any kind. I at first thought she was jesting. Are you similarly deprived?”

“I have crossed the Channel, and raced friends on occasion during my Cambridge years.”

“Very good. And you, Mrs. Darcy?”

“The closest I have ever come to being upon the water are the bathing machines here in Lyme.”

“Oh, dear. Then you must allow me to engage a boat to take us all out on a pleasure excursion—not far, just enough for you to see the coast of Lyme Bay from the water. What do you say?”

Elizabeth hesitated. She had never felt a particularly intense longing to experience sailing. But since meeting the Harvilles and the Wentworths and others whose lives revolved around the sea, since reading Gerard’s descriptions of shipboard life in the early parts of his journal, she had developed a curiosity about how it feels to leave the land.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth. “Would you like to go?”

Georgiana positively radiated her desire to accept the invitation. Elizabeth could not deny her.

“Thank you, Sir Laurence,” Elizabeth replied. “We happily accept.”

“Splendid. I shall make all the arrangements. Business takes me out of Lyme for a few days, but we shall go as soon as I return.”

The beach from which the ship had been launched lay adjacent to Cobb Hamlet, into which the Darcys and Ashfords walked together, then parted company. Sir Laurence’s house, high on the cliff, was more directly reached by a road that led north from the hamlet, while the Darcys headed east toward the familiar Walk that would lead to Broad Street.

The hamlet, however, was flooded by a sea of dispersing spectators, many of them stopping in the middle of roads to greet neighbors and exclaim over what an exciting event they had all just witnessed. Lily-Anne clung to Darcy as he, Elizabeth, and Georgiana moved through all the people. They met with so much congestion that they found their progress utterly halted a few yards away from the entrance of the Sheet Anchor. The lane was blocked not only by pedestrians like themselves, but two coaches and a curricle whose drivers had for some inexplicable reason decided that this would be a good time to try to navigate the narrow road. Their party moved aside in order to give the vehicles as much space as possible in which to maneuver, and wound up flush against the building’s wall.

Lily-Anne, who had behaved very well all morning considering the crush of people, grew impatient in Darcy’s hold and expressed her wish to transfer to her mother’s. Elizabeth took her, but before long the child was clamoring to stand and stretch her cramped legs. Elizabeth could not fault her, and, after extracting a promise from Lily to remain at her side, lowered her daughter to the ground—whereupon Lily giggled and bolted into the crowd.

Before either Elizabeth or Darcy could react, a passer-by scooped her up. “I think not, young lady.” It was Lieutenant St. Clair.

He delivered Lily-Anne back to Elizabeth and greeted them all affably. Elizabeth and Darcy thanked him for intercepting Lily’s flight.

“Were I small enough to dodge through everybody’s legs and escape this crowd sooner, I would be tempted, too,” St. Clair replied.

Given all the conjecture they had engaged in regarding St. Clair, Elizabeth and Darcy were not as easy in their manner toward him as was Georgiana, who, ignorant of their suspicions, was as agreeable as ever. Lily-Anne, however, seemed to take the most delight in St. Clair’s joining them. As the adults talked, she repeatedly raised her head from Elizabeth’s shoulder to smile at the sea officer.

Apparently, her daughter was a flirt after all. And a fickle one at that.

Darcy’s obvious displeasure at Lily-Anne’s disobedience was compounded by her playful attention toward Lieutenant St. Clair. “Give her to me,” he said to Elizabeth. She transferred their daughter to him, and he excused himself to take her several feet away, where he could admonish their child without being overheard by St. Clair. Darcy was not given to public reprimands, particularly before a person they had cause to mistrust.

“Did you enjoy the launch?” Lieutenant St. Clair asked Georgiana and Elizabeth.

“Very much,” Georgiana replied.

“Had I seen you there, I would have joined you to explain what was happening.”

“That is most thoughtful of you,” Georgiana said, “but Sir Laurence and his sister were with us, and he told us all about the Black Cormorant as she was launched. Sir Laurence knows a great deal about ships.”

“Does he?” St. Clair’s expression was equally curious and bemused.

“Well, not as much as you do, of course. But enough to narrate today’s event and describe different parts of the vessel.”

“So you now know a jib from a topsail?” he asked sportively. “A yardarm from a boom?”

St. Clair had such a disarming manner that Elizabeth found it much easier to speculate about his involvement in Gerard’s death from a distance than in person. She glanced at Darcy, who, though still engaged with Lily-Anne, observed St. Clair. He did not appear overjoyed that the suspicious officer conversed with his sister. Elizabeth remained close to them, to monitor their discussion.

“He did not go into that much detail,” Georgiana said. “Though what I did learn about ships made me want to know more. If you are going to tutor me, however, I hope we will start with something simpler than jibs and booms.”

“We can start with whatever you wish. Though jibs and booms are not themselves difficult to comprehend—it is how to use them effectively that requires training and experience.”

As the coaches and curricle still had pedestrian traffic halted, their party would not be advancing homeward anytime soon. Georgiana said, “All right, then. What is a jib?”

“A triangular sail at the front of the ship.”

“And a boom?”

“A long pole run out to extend the foot of a sail.” He smiled. “Were we on a ship, I would point them out to you, of course. But see? This is not so hard. What next?”

She glanced beyond his head, at the sign hanging above the tavern door. “What is a sheet anchor?”

His expression became more serious. “A sheet anchor is the largest and heaviest of a ship’s anchors—the one every sailor hopes will never be used.”

At his sober reply, her manner became more serious, as well. “Why is that?” she asked.