The Deception At Lyme

Miss Ashford and Georgiana went into the cabin. When the door closed, Sir Laurence turned to St. Clair.

“That was all most heroic, Lieutenant.” The baronet cast aside the blanket he had been using. His eyes were hard as stone.

“Now, kindly explain how you came to be on this ship.”

Twenty-Nine

He brought senses and nerves that could be instantly useful … he was obeyed.

—Persuasion

Lieutenant St. Clair hesitated. “With respect, Sir Laurence, I fail to see how that matter concerns you.”

“It is not a matter of concern, but curiosity. We are all so fortunate that you happened to be aboard, and happened to observe our mishap.”

“I was aboard to meet with Captain Tourner.”

“Indeed? As we have just heard, Captain Tourner is not here. He must have forgotten your appointment. Did he send a boat for you, to bring you out to the ship? Perhaps we can all use it to return to land, since he is not available to steer the vessel into the harbor.”

“I doubt the ladies will want to hazard another small boat on these waters.”

“Hmm. I suppose you are correct in that.” He glanced toward the door through which Georgiana and Miss Ashford had passed. “So, this meeting that was to have taken place. Is that why you were in his cabin? Were you awaiting his return?”

“His cabin?”

“Yes, Lieutenant. His cabin. The cabin we all saw you dive from. Through the gun port.” He looked pointedly at St. Clair’s shirt. “And in which, I wager, we would find your coat and waistcoat, were we to look. Shall I ask Miss Darcy whether they are in there?”

The baronet’s gaze was direct and unyielding; the officer’s shifted to the cabin entrance.

“Yes, I was waiting for him, and watching out the window for his return.”

“What were you to meet about?”

“Again, sir, I do not see where—”

“Indulge me.”

“I had hoped to persuade him to hire me on as his first mate,” St. Clair said.

“Indeed? How fortuitous! Then you will not mind taking the wheel now and guiding us into the harbor.”

St. Clair regarded the baronet incredulously. “You are suggesting that I take control of a ship without its master’s permission?”

“This is an emergency, Lieutenant. We need to get the ladies to shore, and as you noted, they cannot endure transport on another small boat. Do not worry—I know one of the owners of this vessel. If there is a problem, I will make it right. And if you do well, I will put in a word for you. Consider this an audition for the job.”

Elizabeth thought Sir Laurence was being incredibly presumptuous, both in the authoritative tone he was taking with the man who had just saved all their lives, and in his commandeering of the ship. He was clearly jealous of St. Clair—jealous that the lieutenant had rescued Georgiana from the sea when the baronet could not, jealous that it had been St. Clair who had happened to be standing close enough to catch her just now, and to whom she had cleaved during her emotional collapse. Elizabeth was, however, so wet and weary, that she did not care what motivated the baronet, or what connexions he flaunted, or how pompous he had to become, if it meant they could get off this ship and onto land one minute sooner.

“Very well,” St. Clair said, “but I will need the crew’s cooperation.”

“I will take care of that, too.”

Lieutenant St. Clair assumed command of the wheel, and they raised anchor. Despite the choppy sea, it was a smooth, short, uneventful trip into the harbor. Until they reached the dock.

And a scream came from the captain’s cabin.

Thirty

They were sick with horror.

—Persuasion

As it turned out, Captain Tourner was aboard the Black Cormorant after all.

In his wardrobe. With a head wound that made the skipper’s look like a scratch.

Georgiana, wearing a gentleman’s coat over her wet dress, was shaking once more. “We—we were cold and looking for more dry clothes.…”

Miss Ashford rushed to a basin and was ill again. Elizabeth looked as stunned as Darcy felt. Sir Laurence, too, surveyed the scene in disbelief before leveling an accusing glare at St. Clair.

“I am guessing, Lieutenant, that Captain Tourner declined your application for employment?”

Though the baronet was quick to judgment, Darcy did note that St. Clair appeared the only person not shocked by the discovery.

“I am not responsible for this.”

“Indeed? Even had we not all seen you dive from this cabin, you admitted to being in it earlier. Is that not your waistcoat on the floor? It appears far too small for Tourner. So do the shoes beside it.”

Georgiana looked down at the coat she was wearing, then at St. Clair. “Is this yours, too?”

St. Clair’s gaze remained on Sir Laurence. “That does not mean I killed him.”

“Then who did? Mr. Darcy, what do you think? Does not all the evidence lead to the lieutenant? He sneaked aboard, killed the captain, then remained hidden in his cabin waiting for an opportunity to slip away. No wonder he tried to discourage my sister and yours from coming in here.”

When Darcy considered additional evidence of which the baronet was unaware—the conversation between St. Clair and Mr. Elliot that he and Elizabeth had overheard on the Cobb, the argument between St. Clair and Tourner that they had observed at the ship launch, the history between the captain and the lieutenant going back to the Magna Carta—he had to admit that St. Clair looked very guilty.

He addressed Lieutenant St. Clair. “Can you provide another explanation for how the captain came to be hidden in his wardrobe?”

“If I am being accused of murdering a fellow naval officer, this is a matter for the Admiralty to adjudicate. Anything further that I have to say on the subject will be said to them.”

“Very well,” said Sir Laurence. “Then let us go.”

“I will help you escort him,” Darcy said. If Lieutenant St. Clair were, in fact, guilty, he deserved whatever justice his court-martial determined.

“May I retrieve my shoes?” St. Clair asked.

“By all means,” said Sir Laurence. “They are evidence. The waistcoat should come with us, as well.”

St. Clair crossed the room. As he put on his shoes and picked up the waistcoat, Georgiana watched, her face a confusion of disappointment.

“Lieutenant?”

He turned toward her, his expression unreadable. “Yes, Miss Darcy?”

She took off his coat and held it out to him. “Take this, too.”

*   *   *

The Darcys spent the next day simply recovering from their trial by sea. Early the following morning, a note arrived from Captain Wentworth. He had news, and asked that they all—Darcy, Elizabeth, and Georgiana—come to