The Deception at Lyme: Or, The Peril of Persuasion

The Deception at Lyme: Or, The Peril of Persuasion

by Carrie Bebris

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In Jane Austen's Persuasion, the Cobb—Lyme's famous seawall—proved dangerous to a careless young woman. Now it proves deadly.

Following their recent intrigue at Highbury, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy visit the seaside village of Lyme on holiday. Family business also draws them there, to receive the personal effects of Mr. Darcy's late cousin, a naval lieutenant who died in action.

Their retreat turns tragic when they come upon a body lying at the base of the Cobb. The victim is Mrs. Clay, a woman with a scandalous past that left her with child—a child whose existence threatened the inheritance of one of her paramours and the reputation of another. Did she lose her balance and fall from the slippery breakwater, or was she pushed?

Mrs. Clay's death is not the only one that commands the Darcys' attention. When Mr. Darcy discovers, among his cousin's possessions, evidence that the young lieutenant's death might have been murder, he allies with Captain Frederick Wentworth (hero of Jane Austen's Persuasion) to probe details of a battle that took place across the sea…but was influenced by a conspiracy much closer to home.

The Deception at Lyme (Or, The Peril of Persuasion) is the delightful sixth installment in the critically acclaimed and award-winning Mr. and Mrs. Darcy mystery series by Carrie Bebris.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780765327987
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Publication date: 08/07/2012
Series: Mr. and Mrs. Darcy Mysteries Series , #6
Edition description: First Edition
Pages: 304
Sales rank: 505,370
Product dimensions: 5.62(w) x 8.06(h) x 0.83(d)

About the Author

Award-winning author Carrie Bebris is best known for her Mr. & Mrs. Darcy Mystery series, which debuted with Pride and Prescience. The novel made the Independent Mystery Booksellers Association bestseller list and was named one of the five best mysteries of 2004 by Library Journal. The third book in the series, North by Northanger, won the Daphne du Maurier Award and a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Historical Mystery.

Carrie is on the faculty of the 2008 Antioch Writers' Workshop and speaks frequently about writing and publishing. He holds a master’s degree in English literature with an emphasis on 19th-century authors and studied Austen on the graduate level. She is a life member of the Jane Austen Society of North America and travels to England to enhance her understanding of Austen’s life and work.

Read an Excerpt


After securing accommodations, and ordering a dinner at one of the inns, the next thing to be done was unquestionably to walk directly down to the sea.

Elizabeth Bennet Darcy had yet to glimpse the Cobb as she negotiated one of the steep cobblestone streets that wended through Lyme’s cliffside dwellings and shops. The close buildings obscured her view of the renowned seawall and harbor some half-mile distant from the town. Yet even had the breakwater been within sight, her gaze coveted a still more remarkable spectacle: the sea itself. In all her three-and-twenty years, she had never before laid eyes upon the sea, and the narrow glimpses she managed to catch between buildings as her small party walked down to the shoreline only whetted her impatience to behold it unobstructed.
At last they reached the end of Broad Street, where a promontory opened up a commanding prospect, and she stopped to absorb the sight. She could see not only the harbor, but also miles beyond. The sun traced its descent toward the horizon, its rays diffused by clouds into muted green and yellow light that slid across the dark water rolling toward the beach.
“Is it as you imagined?”
Had her husband not stood directly beside her, his question might have gone unheard. The wind blowing across Lyme Bay tugged insistently at her bonnet, the ribbons beneath her chin straining to prevent its taking flight.
“I could not possibly have imagined this.” Though she had seen depictions of the sea, no canvas could capture its magnitude, nor the latent power she could feel even from their elevated vantage point. Tall-masted ships moored in the harbor, their mighty hulls dwarfing the smaller fishing boats bobbing round them with the incoming tide. Still more great vessels anchored beyond the seawall, majestic silhouettes against the horizon.
She turned to Darcy. “Thank you for indulging my eagerness to walk down to the sea tonight. You and your sister have visited the coast on enough previous occasions that it cannot hold for you the novelty it does for me.”
“I have never visited this part of the coast before. And I believe my appreciation of the sea is the greater for viewing it this time with you.”
“Despite my having drawn you and Georgiana out of our lodgings nearly the moment we arrived in Lyme?”
“The more so, because you did.” Darcy smiled. “I believe you are even more keen to experience the sea than is Lily-Anne.”
Elizabeth had felt a touch of guilt upon leaving their young daughter with her nurse while the adults walked to the shore. Their family had been speaking with such anticipation about this holiday that although Lily-Anne’s vocabulary was limited, “sea” had been among her most-used words for the past fortnight. The journey to Lyme, however, had tested the eighteen-month-old’s temper beyond endurance. She would enjoy her first sight of the sea in the morning, after the proper night’s rest for which her nurse was now settling her down.
Georgiana clamped a hand upon her hat. “Lily-Anne would have been carried off by one of these gusts of wind. Do you think it will rain?”
Darcy glanced at the sky. “Not tonight. However, more clouds are forming, and sunset is not long off. We should continue to the beach so that we can see it and return to our lodgings before full dark.”
As they descended steps down to the square, another gust swept the cliff, catching hold of Elizabeth’s wide-brimmed straw bonnet. “If I do not adjust my hat, the wind will carry me off,” she said.
An inn, the Lion, stood not far up the street, with a narrow passage between it and its neighbor that would provide shelter from the wind. They walked to the building, and Elizabeth entered the alley while Darcy and Georgiana waited at its entrance.
She removed her gloves and tried to untie the bonnet. The wind, unfortunately, had strained the ribbons so taut against her jaw that now, though the ties had slackened in the sheltered space, they formed a knot so tight that she struggled to work it free. She glanced at Darcy and Georgiana, thinking to summon one of them for assistance. They, however, had become engaged in conversation with a couple she did not recognize. The lady appeared of an age similar to Georgiana’s; the gentleman, about a decade older. The animated manner with which Darcy’s sister spoke with the lady suggested the familiarity of previous acquaintance.
Electing not to interrupt, Elizabeth continued her solitary struggle. As she tried to coax the knot, she became aware that Darcy and Georgiana’s conversation was not the only one taking place near her. Voices drifted through an open window of the inn.
“Do not deny it—I saw you leave the Sheet Anchor with one of them, and later walking on the Cobb with the other.” The voice was a woman’s: sharp, high-pitched. “You told me you had done with them.”
“I have not seen either of them in I know not how long.” This voice was male. Cultured. Condescending. “I was not aware they were in Lyme until we happened to meet today.”
“Do not insult me with your lies; I know you better than anyone. And were that not enough, I have talked to each of them myself. You never stopped. All this time, I thought the business had ended. But you have been carrying on behind my back.”
Elizabeth tugged harder at the ribbons. Uncomfortable with the accidental eavesdropping, she wanted to secure her hat and move along as quickly as possible.
“My affairs are none of your concern.”
Your affairs? Those affairs never would have begun had I not been so foolish as to introduce you. We came here to meet them, did we not? You allowed me to believe we were on holiday, when all along you were planning these rendezvous.”
“Of what have you to complain? You are on holiday,” responded the man, who Elizabeth presumed was the woman’s husband. “You spend my money as if you were.”
“Your money! And where is mine? Where is my share of what they have received all these years?”
“Do I not provide for you? You are wearing your share. You dine on your share. You drive about town in your share, patronize half the shops in London with your share. So long as you live under my protection, whom I meet and why is my business.”
“Your business—and you—can go to the devil.”
“Madam, at times I believe myself already in his company.”
There followed an expletive which Elizabeth had never before heard uttered, let alone by a woman. She edged away from the window to distance herself from the scene of marital discord.
“What of the promise you made me?” the wife continued, her shrill voice rising to a volume Elizabeth could not escape despite the increased distance. “Did you ever intend to keep it?”
“In time.”
“You have run out of time.”
“Not quite yet. I suggest you keep that fact in mind.”
“Depend upon it, I have.”
A brief silence followed. Elizabeth hesitated to take another step, lest her retreat be heard and her presence realized.
“I have friends in Lyme, you know.” The wife’s voice was calm, steadier.
The man issued a low, scornful chuckle. “No doubt you do. Half the navy is ashore. Though in your current state, you hardly present an enticing object.”
“Certain individuals might be very interested in learning what I know. I am not the only person your affairs have betrayed.”
“You are hardly guiltless yourself. Unless you are an utter fool, you will keep your mouth shut.”
The next sound was that of a door opening.
“Where are you going?” the man said.
Though Elizabeth had failed to free her knotted ribbons, she hastened to rejoin her party. An accidental witness to the domestic drama, she had no desire to meet its actors.
Georgiana and Darcy were alone once more; the couple with whom they had been speaking were now a good twenty yards up the street, slowly negotiating the steep incline.
“You just missed my friend Miss Ashford,” Georgiana said. “What a delightful surprise! I had no idea of her being in Lyme. She is here with her brother, who comes regularly. In fact, he likes it so well that he leases a house here throughout the year. They arrived a se’nnight ago. They were just come from a promenade on the Cobb, which they highly recommend. Sir Laurence said the view from the top is very fine. They have gone every afternoon, and invited me to join them tomorrow.”
Elizabeth took Georgiana’s arm and continued walking, hoping to move their party along. “I am glad you have found friends here. Are they Derbyshire acquaintances?” She could not recall having heard the name before.
“No—their family home is in Somerset. I know Miss Ashford from London; she and I have studied with the same harp master since we were girls. I met her eldest brother once about three years ago, but this is the first time I have seen him since he inherited the baronetcy from his father. He is Sir Laurence now. That makes him sound older than merely ‘Mr. Ashford,’ do you not think? Yet he is not too old—” She turned to her brother. “I believe about the same age as you, Fitzwilliam. I did not realize until today that you know each other.”
“We have met occasionally at White’s,” Darcy said.
Georgiana, noting the unaltered state of Elizabeth’s bonnet, offered her assistance, but Elizabeth declined.
“It can wait. I am impatient to reach the waterfront.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the inn’s entrance, but saw no one who answered her mind’s image of the couple she had overheard.
In but a few steps more they passed the Assembly Rooms and arrived at the beach. From here they could see the Cobb half a mile southwest. Small boats bobbed in the harbor created by the semicircular breakwater, which extended at least a thousand feet from mouth to shore. The seawall met land near a cluster of buildings their landlady had referred to as Cobb Hamlet. Separated from Lyme proper by an undeveloped cliff prone to landslips, the harbor and hamlet were linked to Lyme by an elevated promenade known as the Walk, which ran parallel to a cart road that skirted the beach.
Elizabeth, Darcy, and Georgiana ambled along the Walk, taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of the sea. Dusk approached, and waterfront activity both on- and offshore was winding down. Vendors packed up their wares; sailors finished unloading goods from recently docked ships; horses pulled the last of the carts toward the Customs House for clearance. Four bathing machines, having long since completed their service for the day, were parked on the beach out of reach of the lapping tide.
A set of steps led from the Walk down to the cart road and the beach itself. The rising tide brought the water quite close, and Darcy asked whether Elizabeth would like to go down and dip her hand in the seawater breaking onto shore. She responded enthusiastically.
At the base of the stair, a young gentleman who had been about to ascend moved aside to grant them clear passage. Even in the fading light, his features evinced considerable time spent at sea. The sun had tanned his skin to a rich hue and bleached to pale gold the long hair tied back beneath his hat. The result was not unfavorable; in fact, he possessed a mien of health and vigor superior to most of the other sailors they had passed as they walked through Lyme. He nodded politely at Elizabeth and Darcy as they reached the bottom step—a civility they returned—but when his gaze shifted behind them to acknowledge Georgiana, a spark entered his blue eyes, and an expression of patent admiration overtook his countenance.
Elizabeth turned to regard her sister-in-law. A well-favored, graceful girl even in ordinary moments, Georgiana at present appeared altogether fetching. The wind that had played such havoc with Elizabeth’s bonnet had brightened Georgiana’s eyes and loosened tendrils of honey-blond hair that fluttered becomingly around cheeks pinkened by the persistent sea breeze—or perhaps by consciousness of being the object of so admiring a look. No one could be insensible of such attention from a handsome gentleman, certainly not a young lady of nineteen.
And certainly not her brother.
Darcy glanced from the sailor to Georgiana, and saw his sister through the stranger’s eyes—the eyes of a man. A man who was not her brother, not her protector, but a warm-blooded buck who could not help but respond to the sight of a beautiful woman. Worse—a man turned onshore after months at sea entirely deprived of women’s company. Decent women’s company, anyway.
Though there had been nothing improper in the sailor’s expression or manner, his interest put Darcy on guard. It reminded him all too vividly of the last time he and Georgiana had been at the seaside, and the evil she had so narrowly escaped. Darcy had thwarted the designs of one fortune hunter, but scavengers of Mr. Wickham’s breed flocked in watering-places like gulls.
Before Darcy could offer his hand to assist Georgiana’s descent, the stranger offered his own. She accepted his aid, placing her hand in his. She negotiated the stairs without incident, but as she stepped onto the beach—her attention entirely upon him, to the neglect of her own feet—a small mound of shingle shifted beneath her, throwing her out of balance.
The gentleman quickly caught her, preventing a fall. Darcy stepped forward to help steady Georgiana, relieving the sailor of any need—or excuse—for further contact with his sister. Georgiana took Darcy’s arm, but required it for only a moment. She had regained her equilibrium. Her composure, however, was not so easily recovered. She cast her gaze about, fleetingly meeting the stranger’s, then shifting it to look at anything but the man’s countenance.
His face reflected amusement. Hers was in high color. She stammered a few halting words of gratitude, by all appearances directed at the wall behind him. The edges of his mouth upturned to a half-smile.
He tipped his hat—“Your servant, miss”—and continued on his way.
Though she had refused to meet his eyes, Georgiana watched his back as he nimbly cleared the stairs and hastened along the Walk.
“He thinks me a careless featherbrain.”
Darcy, too, observed the retreat of the man who had found his sister’s discomposure charming. “The opinion of a common sailor you will never again set eyes upon should cause you no distress.”
“He is not a common sailor. From his manner and dress, he is a gentleman. I wager he is a naval officer, as Gerard was.”
Indeed, there were enough ships in the harbor that the stranger could well be an officer on one of the small naval vessels, if not the master of a merchantman. Darcy doubted, however, that the man could ever wear a uniform as proudly as their late cousin had worn his the last time Darcy and Georgiana saw him. A newly commissioned lieutenant of the Royal Navy, Gerard Fitzwilliam had died three years ago in action aboard the Magna Carta.
“Even if that fellow is an officer, neither dress nor stripes make a man a gentleman,” Darcy said. “Put him from your mind.”
They strolled along the beach a little way, but the sun soon dropped so low that the filtered light faded quickly. The wind picked up, and the temperature, which had dropped decidedly since they began their walk, caused both Georgiana and Elizabeth to shudder. Electing to postpone the pleasure of their first promenade on the Cobb itself until the morrow, they headed back toward their lodgings.
Darcy looked at the sky once more. Clouds obscured the young moon. Perhaps a storm was gathering after all.

Copyright © 2011 by Carrie Bebris

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Deception at Lyme 4.1 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 10 reviews.
LiederMadchen More than 1 year ago
I was so excited when Ms. Bebris announced that she was finally writing her Persuasion novel (having written mysteries to tie in with Miss Austen's five other published works already). Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, accidental detectives, were finally going to meet the Wentworths. At Lyme (I love Lyme). The Deception at Lyme had all the things I loved about the previous books in the series - fun characters, complicated mystery, a bit of danger, a bit of humor and, especially in this case, romance. One thing it didn't have was any hint of the supernatural, but the very human mystery more than made up for the lack of magical influence. I love how well the author incorporated the characters from Persuasion into the mystery. Mrs.Clay, Mr. Elliot and Sir Walter Elliot are all perfectly portrayed in all their less-than-likable glory, tangled in ambition and deceit. Captain Wentworth and Mr. Darcy get along famously, as I have always suspected that they would. My two favorite Austenesque heroes working together at last (sigh). The new characters were wonderful as well, especially the two gentlemen who take an interest in Georgiana (much to Darcy's chagrin). The charming Sir Lawrence and the enigmatic and possibly villainous Lieutenant St. Clair. Watching Darcy's discomfort was highly entertaining. I would recommend this book to anyone who likes cozy mysteries that you can curl up with on a rainy afternoon, and, of course, to anyone who loves Jane Austen's marvelous characters.
lovelifeva More than 1 year ago
As with the first five in the series, The Deception at Lyme was well written and highly anticipated. I enjoyed this most recent installment, however; I miss the entertaining interaction between Darcy and Elizabeth that was so much a part of the first four novels. I have reread these more than once and would recommend them to any Pride and Prejudice fan. Hope there are more installments.
LisaMaria_C on LibraryThing More than 1 year ago
This is the sixth in the Mr and Mrs Darcy series. Bebris takes the married Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice and sets them down before various settings and characters of Jane Austen's other novels, involving them in various mysteries for them to investigate and solve. And since no Austen novel is second in my affection to Persuasion, you can imagine my anticipation knowing The Deception at Lyme would deal with those characters. It was delightful to meet the Elliots again. Sir Walter Elliot and his eldest daughter are pitch perfect in their pompous snobbery. I enjoyed the company of Anne Elliot, now Mrs Wentworth. Mary, the youngest daughter, is her manipulative, self-pitying passive aggressive self. Mrs Clay and William Elliot are as shady as one could wish. Even such minor characters as the Harvilles and Mrs Smith are very recognizable. And as with the last mystery involving the characters of Emma, The Intrigue at Highbury, the major characters of the book are very central here--more so than in books prior. This feels very much a sequel to Persuasion, with those characters along a path I could easily see them taking.I like this more than the last Bebris mystery based on Austen however. If there's one thing I thought the last book missed compared with the others, is that there was little at stake for the Darcys compared to the ones before. In the case of this book, however, the Darcys bring Fitzwilliam's sister Georgiana with them to Lyme. There she gets involved with two possible suitors both of whom may have been involved with murder. That of Mrs Clay, found injured at the book's beginning, and the possible murder of the Darcy's cousin Lieutenant Gerard Fitzwilliam aboard HMS Magna Carta some years earlier. I liked how both mysteries were developed and resolved, keeping me guessing to the end.Bebris can't match Austen in quality, no. (But who does?) But she can write the characters with a convincing voice and apt characterization. Nor does she match, say, a Josephine Tey or Agatha Christie with brilliant plots. What these novels are, for me, are comfort reads. Works I really enjoy immersing myself in, like visiting with old friends. Add to that a good touch with the historical detail and the element of romance, I do find these books a pleasure. So I'm happy there's a hint at the end they'll continue, even though Bebris has now made her rounds through the world of Austen's six novels.
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harstan More than 1 year ago
Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy, accompanied by his sister Georgiana and their infant Lily-Anne, travel to Lyme on a combination holiday and family matters. Fitzwilliam and Georgiana are at the seaside village to collect the personal items left behind by their naval cousin William who died in combat. Not long after they arrive in Lyme, at the base of the Cobb seawall, they find the body of pregnant Mrs. Clay, who had just married Sir Walter Elliot. Apparently the victim was carrying the offspring of William. Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth believe the loose woman was pushed to insure inheritance did not change. As they investigate the pair begins to believe William was a murder victim too. Allied with Captain Frederick Wentworth, the Darcy detecting duet make inquires into the death of a woman at the seawall and the death of a sailor at sea. The latest Mr. and Mrs. Darcy amateur sleuth (see The Matter at Mansfield and The Intrigue at Highbury) is a delightful Regency mystery in which characters from Jane Austen's Persuasion play key roles. The lead couple and his sister are fully developed; while the rest of the cast is solid to the delight of Janeites. With insight into naval matters in the early nineteenth century enlightening and adding to an exhilarating whodunit, too much overseas activity slows down the otherwise fast-paced strong historical investigate thriller. Harriet Klausner