years, Alfred grew into a sensible and likable young man despite Sir Walter’s best efforts. When the time came for him to assume the baronetcy, he did so with seriousness and respect for the generations-old tradition he was entering, and proved himself a more worthy heir to his title than the man from whom he inherited it.
Elizabeth and Darcy, after seeing Captain and Mrs. Andrew St. Clair off on their new life, returned home to Pemberley with Lily-Anne. There, they enjoyed a welcome holiday from the “holiday” they had spent beside the sea. The accidents at Lyme, however, had brought them the friendship of the Wentworths and the addition of Captain St. Clair to their family, and so they would always look upon their experience there as more pleasurable than not.
Before too much time passed, they were once more taken with the idea of travel. As they readied for sleep one night, Darcy again mentioned the possibility of a foreign destination.
“I am all in favor of journeying abroad,” Elizabeth said, closing her book and setting it on the night table. “Georgiana is not the only Darcy with an interest in seeing more of the world. When do you want to go?”
On the other side of the bed, Darcy extinguished his candle, lifted the coverlet, and climbed beneath. “I had originally contemplated this coming summer, though now that Georgiana is no longer a Darcy but a St. Clair, we will be booking passage for only three instead of four.”
“We might need to delay that departure. This summer will be a little busy.”
“Why?”
Elizabeth offered him only an enigmatic smile before blowing out her own candle and curling up beside him.
“When we do go, however,” she said as the firelight teased the darkness, “we shall indeed have to book passage for four.”
Author’s Note
Dear Readers,
When I have the good fortune to hear from you, whether in person or via e-mail, I am often asked about the amount and type of research I do for my novels. The simple answer is that it varies with the needs of each book. I always endeavor to be as thorough as I can, using primary sources (when available), reference books and other secondary sources, Internet resources (carefully evaluated), museums, hands-on experience, expert interviews, and anything else useful that I happen upon. When possible, I also visit a book’s settings to see them for myself and get a true sense of place. I never know what little detail—seemingly insignificant at the time—will prick my memory months later and become a critical component of the story.
Research for this novel took me from the cliffs of England’s Jurassic Coast to the decks of the HMS
Fortunately, one of the plot’s most unusual details—the Cobb’s “whispering gallery”—actually exists. It is not very well publicized—I learned about it from a small reference in “The Book of the Cobb,” a short monograph on the Cobb’s history for sale locally in Lyme. When I tested out the acoustical effect, I knew I had to use it somehow in the book. The Cobb suffered serious damage from a storm in 1824 and much of it had to be rebuilt, so there is no way of knowing whether the effect existed in Austen’s time—but that also means no one can say for certain that it did not. (Fiction writers love that kind of ambiguity!)
Except for Mrs. Smith’s bench, the other features of the Cobb that I mention (the gin shop, Granny’s Teeth, quay warehouses, steps on the southern arm, etc.) are also real and can still be seen. The shipyards are gone but the hamlet, Walk, and beach are still there—modernized, of course. The building thought to have been Austen’s inspiration for Captain Harville’s cottage is now a café. The Lion (now the Royal Lion) can still be found on Broad Street, but the Assembly Rooms have long since been torn down. Due to a fire, only the cellar of the Three Cups inn of Austen’s day still exists (now the basement of a bookstore). Another Three Cups was built up the street; though now closed, the building remains.
On another historical note, readers particularly well informed about Austen family history might recognize
I hope you enjoyed
With warmest regards,
Carrie Bebris