Carrie Bebris - The Deception At Lyme

“What led you to that conclusion?” Darcy asked.

“When the Dangereuse retreated, she was forced to leave behind some of her boarding party, who became our prisoners. One of them, an officer, told me just before we turned them over to the British authorities that he had seen Lieutenant Fitzwilliam shot by a civilian gentleman aboard.”

“Which gentleman?”

“His words were veiled, but he said he had been shocked to witness a future baronet shoot one of His Majesty’s officers.”

Though Darcy had sought the truth about Gerard’s death, when it came, he was unprepared for the cold sickness that spread through him. “Can this Frenchman’s word be trusted?”

“Had he told me immediately, or during the time he was in our custody, I might have thought he was lying in an attempt to use the information in exchange for better treatment. But based upon his timing—when he had nothing to gain for telling me—and upon the honorable conduct I observed in him during his captivity, I believed him. I have since learned that he is a secret Royalist, with connexions to both the French and English aristocracy.”

“Was he acquainted with Mr. Elliot?” Elizabeth asked. “Is that how the prisoner knew he was a future baronet?”

“If he was, he never let on to that fact during his captivity. Even so, Captain Tourner continued to entertain Mr. Elliot and his companions in the weeks after the prisoners were taken, so I imagine the French officer overheard some of our men talking about the gentlemen and learned more about them that way.” St. Clair paused. “Mr. Elliot, however, was not the only future baronet aboard the Magna Carta on the day your cousin died.”

“Who was the other?” Darcy asked.

Georgiana’s hand closed round the pendant she yet held. “Sir Laurence.”

Georgiana looked ill as she searched St. Clair’s face for confirmation. “Sir Laurence came into his baronetcy two and a half years ago—after the events aboard the Magna Carta that you have been describing. It is he of whom you speak, is it not?”

“Yes,” St. Clair said. “Of course, he was simply ‘Mr. Ashford’ then.”

“But already a gentleman who enjoyed the life of an aristocrat,” Georgiana said.

Elizabeth heard the revelation with only mild surprise; as their discussion had progressed, she had begun to harbor her own suspicions about the identity of Captain Tourner’s third guest. “Was he traveling with Mr. Smith and Mr. Elliot?” she asked.

“He had traveled to visit his godfather, the Duke of Manchester—Governor of Jamaica,” St. Clair said. “Once, while I dined with the three gentlemen at the captain’s table, Sir Laurence mentioned that he had shared a slight acquaintance with Mr. Elliot and Mr. Smith in London, and by happenstance had booked passage on the same ship to the West Indies. English society on the island is so limited that they could not help but meet each other periodically during their time there, which advanced their acquaintance. Sir Laurence, however, was definitely a detached third party to the well-established friendship of the other two, and seemed perfectly content to remain so.”

“When do you think he became part of the conspiracy?” Darcy asked. “He told us at the launch that the Black Cormorant had been two years in its construction.”

“If he was involved in Lieutenant Fitzwilliam’s death, then he was involved in the conspiracy by the time the Montego and Magna Carta set sail for England—possibly before they ever departed London; after all, we have only their word for it that their London acquaintance was slight. In fact, that is the supposition I have been exploring most recently. I think Mr. Elliot and Mr. Smith approached Sir Laurence as a potential investor back in London, and that he traveled to the Caribbean to see the cache of gold for himself before deciding to finance the building of a merchant ship.”

“I notice that you continually refer to Mr. Elliot and Mr. Smith in tandem,” Mrs. Wentworth said. “Are you certain that Mr. Smith knew about the smuggling? At the risk of appearing naïve, I have always received the impression from Mrs. Smith that Mr. Elliot led his friend so thoroughly that it is possible all of this transpired around Mr. Smith without his even realizing it. Has anybody spoken to Mrs. Smith about it?” She turned to her husband. “Has any evidence been found among his papers that implicates him—or that could illuminate the role of Sir Laurence?”

“I have read all the documents and memorandums Mrs. Smith turned over to me,” Captain Wentworth said. “I saw nothing obvious—but at the time, I was not looking for allusions to smuggling or association with Sir Laurence Ashford. I will look through them all again as soon as this discussion concludes.”

“I would like to read them with you,” said St. Clair.

“Of course. Are there other individuals or details we should look for?”

“I have not yet been able to determine the end recipient of the artifacts once they reach England. Mr. Elliot arranges for the casks to be retrieved once unloaded from the ships; I believe they are moved temporarily to a hiding spot on property he owns near Sidmouth. But once the artifacts are removed from the casks, they seem to disappear. I suspect they are being melted down for their gold value alone.”

“No,” Elizabeth said. “If Sir Laurence is investing in this enterprise, he would not be a party to the destruction of artifacts.” She glanced at Georgiana, giving her an opportunity to express her opinion—after all, Georgiana knew Sir Laurence better than did anybody else in the room—but Georgiana was looking at the pendant again. Elizabeth turned to St. Clair and Admiral Croft to explain. “The baronet and his sister came to dinner one night, and the conversation drifted onto the subject of the marbles Lord Elgin removed from the Parthenon. Sir Laurence emphatically asserted his support for Elgin. He considers the earl a hero for having rescued the sculptures from the neglect and deterioration they suffered since the country came under Ottoman control.”

“In fact,” Darcy added, “he said that Lord Elgin’s actions were justified whether executed legally or not, and that he would have done the same.”

“He has done the same,” Elizabeth said. “Like Elgin, he has arranged transport of ancient treasures from a part of the world whose conquerors did not appreciate their value, who indeed melted down much of the other gold they found.”

“And Spanish America remains in such a state of political upheaval that had the artifacts been found and seized by local government before they were removed to Jamaica, their fate would have been uncertain.” St. Clair nodded. “I can see Sir Laurence excusing his activities on those grounds. But if the gold is not being melted, where is it going?”

“I think I may know,” Georgiana said quietly. All regarded her expectantly, but she did not immediately speak again. Instead, she held the bird pendant out to St. Clair. “Do all of the artifacts resemble this one?”

St. Clair placed his hand under hers and raised it to examine the idol. “An informant who claimed to have viewed the entire cache described all manner of items—pendants such as this one, figurines depicting various animals, jewelry, ritual objects, and more. Of the pieces I have seen myself, yes, this is representative of their style.”

“Might turtles be among the animal figures?” she asked.

“They could indeed. The idol Lieutenant Fitzwilliam turned over to me was a tree frog.” He looked at her earnestly, her hand still resting in his. “Miss Darcy, if you possess any intelligence on the subject, pray disclose it to me—even if it is only conjecture.”