Carrie Bebris - The Deception At Lyme

However, it was Mr. Elliot who, though not meaning to, now commanded Darcy’s attention. The gaze that had periodically shifted toward the Black Cormorant throughout Mrs. Smith’s confession now looked past Darcy, toward shore. The casual stance in which he had so confidently goaded Mrs. Smith now adopted a more defensive air.

Darcy turned. A detachment of Royal Marines had arrived on the Cobb. They marched in formation along the lower wall, their red coats a striking display of color in the gloom. Admiral Croft and Captain St. Clair accompanied them.

“Well, this has been a fascinating explanation,” Mr. Elliot said. “However, further reminiscing will have to wait, for you have delayed my errand too long as it is.” He moved past the ladies on the bench and headed toward the quay. Captain Wentworth, however, interposed himself.

“I am afraid, Mr. Elliot, that I must detain you a little longer,” he said. “I believe Admiral Croft has business with you.”

“What business could the admiral possibly have with me?”

Admiral Croft reached their party and came to a stop. “A warrant for your arrest.” Captain St. Clair and two marines remained with him while the rest continued to the quay. “And another authorizing the search of your property in Sidmouth.”

“Whatever for?”

“Smuggled artifacts.”

“This is outrageous.” He glared at Captain St. Clair. “You will find no evidence there.”

“Regardless of what is discovered,” Captain Wentworth said, “we already have enough to free Mr. Smith’s plantation from your control and try you for stealing from his widow.”

“Truly, Captain Wentworth?” Mrs. Smith exclaimed. “I will at last have income from my husband’s estate to support myself?”

“Truly.”

“Oh, Anne! Is this not the most wonderful news?” Mrs. Smith smiled triumphantly at Mr. Elliot as the pair of marines led him away.

Captain St. Clair noted the baby in Anne Wentworth’s arms. “It was Mr. Elliot, then, who stole the child? Is Alfred well?”

“Actually, my friend Mrs. Smith had him,” Mrs. Wentworth replied. “He is fine.”

“I am relieved to hear it.”

“Have you already arrested Sir Laurence?” Darcy asked.

“He was not at home,” St. Clair replied. “We believe he is on his ship. If so, he will not be aboard much longer.”

A revenue cutter had entered the port, effectively blocking the merchantman’s ability to exit it. Meanwhile, the marines had been joined by a group of customs officials who had emerged from the harbormaster’s office. Together, they swarmed the Black Cormorant.

Just as the admiral, St. Clair, Wentworth, and Darcy walked up the gang-board from the quay to the deck, the marine sergeant emerged from the master’s cabin with Sir Laurence. Another man was with the baronet. Darcy did not recognize him, but Captain St. Clair did.

“Lieutenant Wilton,” St. Clair muttered. “Apparently, Sir Laurence wasted no time in finding another ship’s master. We shall relieve him of command, as well.”

Admiral Croft turned to St. Clair. “You may do the honors, Captain. You have earned the pleasure.”

St. Clair stepped forward. “This ship is hereby seized by the crown,” he announced. “And you, Sir Laurence—along with all her crew—are under arrest for the illegal import and sale of foreign goods, and for conspiring to defraud His Majesty King George of revenues rightfully his.”

“These charges are made on whose word, Lieutenant?” Sir Laurence regarded St. Clair disdainfully. “That of a killer?”

“That of Captain St. Clair,” said the admiral, “senior officer in His Majesty’s navy, who has been investigating you and your fellow conspirators under the orders and authority of the Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty.”

The admiral’s reply gave Sir Laurence pause, but only for a moment. “You must be very confident to arrest me,” he said. “I have influential friends.”

“We shall see if they remain your friends when they learn you are a thief,” St. Clair replied. “Not to mention a murderer.” He looked to the sergeant. “Take him.”

As the arrests were made, Darcy and Captain Wentworth rejoined their wives back on the Cobb. They watched Sir Laurence being led away.

“What a relief to finally see Sir Laurence exposed as a murderer,” Mrs. Smith muttered.

Captain Wentworth regarded her in puzzlement. “How did you come to know about Captain Tourner?”

“Captain Tourner? I have no idea who you refer to. I was thinking of another man entirely—one whom my husband told me about before he died. On his voyage home from the West Indies, Mr. Smith and his companions were involved in a very frightening battle in which they had to defend themselves. My husband took down a French sailor with his pistol, but he said Sir Laurence’s shot struck a young British lieutenant.”

“Intentionally?” Darcy asked.

“My husband said it appeared so, but he could not comprehend why Sir Laurence would do such a thing. The incident troubled him greatly. He raved about it repeatedly in the delirium of his final days.”

“Did he name the officer?” Darcy asked.

“Fitz-something. Fitzgerald? No—that is not it. I am sorry—I have long forgotten. At the time, my attention was absorbed by utterances he made of a more personal nature.”

Darcy looked once more at Sir Laurence. The gentleman Darcy would have welcomed into his family had dispassionately stolen the life of one of its members. Even now, the baronet left the Cobb with an outward air of dignity that belied the dark soul within.

Elizabeth slipped her hand into Darcy’s. “At last, you have your answer—we know for certain it was Sir Laurence who killed your cousin. Why do you look so troubled?”

“I am contemplating how much of Sir Laurence’s beguiling was his doing, and how much was mine. I believe I allowed his title and fortune to blind me to his true character.”

“He is well practiced at deceit.”

“I thought I was well practiced at unmasking it.”

After their time beside the sea, London felt cramped and noisy to Darcy. Its streets seemed too level, its buildings too numerous, its air too close. Though their town house was, as ever, an oasis of peace amidst the urban din, he was glad their time in the city would be of short duration. Soon they could return home to Pemberley, stopping en route to deliver Gerard’s sea chest to Riveton Hall—the final destination of its long journey.

First, however, Darcy was obliged to testify against Mr. Elliot and Sir Laurence in the Court of Admiralty. Artifacts had been found on both their properties—in the quarry caves at Sidmouth and in Sir Laurence’s art collection at Thornberry. When the evidence was combined with the testimony of Captain St. Clair, Admiral Croft, Darcy, and others, it was expected that the trials would be resolved fairly quickly. The numerous courts-martial for the corrupt naval officers would continue much longer.

Captain St. Clair called upon them nearly every evening. The Darcys had him to dinner more than once; in turn, they had dined at the home of St. Clair’s London sister, with whom he was staying. In his company and under his tutelage, Georgiana’s interest in things nautical had blossomed. She proved an apt and eager pupil, soon conversant in the jargon of man-o’-wars and seventy-fours, and she took particular pleasure in hearing him describe life aboard ship and the lands across the Atlantic where he had spent so much of his career. He, in turn, seemed as taken with her intellect, her conversation, and her gentle manner as he had been with her appearance on the evening he had first seen her. After years of hearing little in the way of music beyond fiddle tunes and sea ballads sung by men’s voices, he took particular pleasure in listening to her perform on the harp and piano, and he was delighted to be able to speak with her in languages he had acquired in his travels.