What Would Lizzy Bennet Do? (30 page)

Her older sister shuddered. ‘Let’s hope not.’ Dutifully she handed over the binoculars.

Charlotte held them up and wrinkled her nose as she located her father and his picnic companion. ‘Ugh! She’s wearing a flowery, sort of muumuu thingy. It’s hideous.’ She paused and added, ‘I can just make out the side of her face. It looks a bit… puffy.’

‘Let me see that.’ Lizzy grabbed the binoculars away from her. She frowned. Sure enough, the woman’s cheek did look a trifle swollen.

‘The binoculars are for watching the race,’ Emma said sharply, and snatched them back from her sister. ‘Not for spying on Daddy. Oh, dear,’ she said suddenly. ‘I don’t like the looks of
that
.’

‘Don’t like the looks of what?’ Charli asked. ‘Did you see Araminta’s outfit, then? Or was there a bit of…’ she grimaced. ‘Parental PDA?’

‘No public displays of affection, thank God,’ Emma said, and shook her head. ‘No, something much worse. See for yourselves.’ And with that, she handed the binoculars to Charlotte and Lizzy.

***

As the yachts raced nearer to shore, the handful of seagulls Holly had noticed earlier, circling and wheeling idly around the tall ships’ masts, had grown in size, until a flock of perhaps a dozen or more birds gathered and swooped in the
Pemberley
’s wake.

‘Oh dear, what’s going on?’ Lady de Byrne said, and shaded her eyes. ‘It looks like something out of a Hitchcock film out there.’

Holly grabbed the binoculars from Hugh and anxiously scanned the water. Sure enough, seagulls swooped and dove at the
Pemberley
’s mast, shrieking and covering the deck and the sides of the ship with ugly white splatters of gull poo as the crew shouted below and darted back and forth.

‘What’s happening?’ she cried as the
Pemberley
lagged ever so slightly and the
Meryton
surged ahead.

‘It’s those seagulls,’ Hugh exclaimed. ‘For some reason, they’re attacking the
Pemberley
’s crow’s nest.’

A moment later, a ripple went through the crowds as the speakers crackled to life.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner! The
Meryton
has just crossed the finish line to win the tenth annual Longbourne Cup regatta race!’ the announcer declared, and the crowd went wild with cheers and clapping. ‘Congratulations to Captain Hodgson, Ciaran Duncan, and the
Meryton
crew!’

‘What happened?’ Holly asked as she turned to Hugh in dismay. ‘Harry and Captain Kearns had the lead, and they were doing so well! The
Pemberley
should’ve won that race.’

‘I don’t know,’ Hugh said, his words grim. ‘But it’s plain their loss was down to those bloody damned seagulls.’

***

It wasn’t until later, after Ciaran and his crew had posed for pictures with wide grins and claimed the regatta cup and prize money for their own, that Harry finally had a chance to climb up the main mast to investigate the crow’s nest.

What he found there disgusted him. It wasn’t so much the load of gull shit dried all over the mast, so thick that he’d changed into his diving suit beforehand to protect himself, that filled him with outrage.

No, it was what he saw inside the crow’s nest that infuriated him.

Cardboard containers, empty now and splattered with gull crap, were wedged into the space – containers that, judging by the grease stains still visible under the splatters of bird feces, had only recently held French fries – the sort sold at the dozens of pop-up chip stands erected to accommodate the regatta crowds.

How in the
hell
had they got up here?

More importantly –
who
put them there?

Harry climbed back down the mast, careful not to slip on the splatters of gulls’ poo as he went, and jumped on to the deck. He looked down at himself in disgust.

He was covered in bird shit.

‘Well?’ Kearns asked as he approached, his face creased with concern. ‘Did you find anything up there?’

Briefly Harry relayed what he’d seen. ‘Send someone up straight away to take photographs. We’ll need proof.’

‘Well, I’ll be damned.’ The captain shook his head. ‘I’ll get someone up there right away. You go and get cleaned up, and I’ll get the crew started scrubbing down the deck.’ He paused. ‘Is there anything else you need me to do?’

‘Yes.’ Harry’s expression was grim. ‘I want you to wait for me. After I shower, we’re showing the photos of that crow’s nest as evidence to the committee and filing an official grievance. If not for those gulls, and those bloody chips, we’d have won that race, fair and square.’

‘Aye, that we would,’ Kearns agreed. He frowned. ‘But what I don’t understand is why those birds didn’t attack that food right off. Why didn’t they go after it sooner, afore we left the dock?’

‘I’m guessing whoever did this covered the chips with something that stayed put until we ran into the headwinds coming back… most likely, a bit of tarp. Once the tarp blew away, the gulls saw the fries and had a field day – and we had a deck and crew so splattered with gull shit they lost their focus… and the
Pemberley
lost the race.’

‘It were obviously someone who knows a bit about sailing, and winds,’ Kearns agreed. ‘But who’d do such a thing? Who’d go to such lengths to win a race?’

‘That’s an easy one.’ Harry cast a savage glare at the
Meryton
. ‘I’ve no doubt Ciaran Duncan is to blame. And before this week is over, I intend to prove it, and take that regatta cup back where it belongs – with the
Pemberley
.’

Chapter 36

‘How was your picnic with Araminta, Daddy?’ Lizzy asked early that evening, as she and Emma helped unpack the car. Charlotte had disappeared straight up to her room.

‘It was very nice,’ Mr Bennet replied, and handed her an armload of damp towels. ‘The rain held off, thank goodness. And with that huge beach umbrella Emma found, we would’ve managed quite well even if it had poured.’

‘I found it up in the attic,’ Emma said, and picked up the emptied jug of tea and the portable radio. ‘Now, I’m taking this stuff in, then I’m going upstairs for a bath and calling it a day.’

‘You said your picnic with Araminta was “very nice”,’ Lizzy remarked as Emma left and she followed her father and his picnic basket into the house. ‘When you say “very nice”, you usually mean “disappointing”.’

He set the basket on the kitchen table and eyed her over his spectacles. ‘You know me too well, Elizabeth.’

As Lizzy made them tea, Mr Bennet sat down at the table and sighed. ‘Everything was going – pardon the pun – swimmingly, until Araminta tried one of my scones.’

‘Oh, no.’ She switched on the kettle and turned to regard him with alarm. ‘Did she get sick?’

‘Not exactly. She had some sort of an allergic reaction to the thyme in the lemon-and-thyme scones, and broke out in hives. Then her right cheek began to swell. It was most distressing. I had to rush her off to A and E and get her a shot of epinephrine.’

‘Is she all right?’

‘Oh, yes. Right as rain.’ He regarded her sheepishly. ‘But I don’t think she’ll be anxious to try my scones again, after they landed her in hospital.’

Lizzy poured their tea, then put the mugs down on the table and sat down. ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ she pointed out, indignant. ‘How were you to know she was allergic to thyme?’

‘I didn’t. But I still feel badly. I didn’t actually disclose the fact that there was thyme in the scones. It was meant to be a surprise.’ He sighed. ‘And it
was
a surprise… but not quite in the way I intended.’

‘Well, at least you got her to a doctor, and she’s all right.’

‘Yes. Still, it wasn’t a very auspicious first date, I must admit.’ He took a sip of tea.

‘It must be hard,’ Lizzy ventured after a moment, frowning as she wrapped her hands around the mug, ‘to dive back into dating again, after so many years with Mum.’ Her throat thickened, and she sipped her tea. ‘I can’t imagine how difficult it must be.’

‘It’s daunting, to say the least.’ He laid his hand atop hers. ‘I miss your mother, Lizzy, and I always will. No one could ever take her place. But I do get lonely now and then, and I find myself missing the companionship we once had. I miss having someone to share my tea with, or help me with the crossword, or walk with me on a summer’s evening. That’s all.’

‘You have us, Daddy.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘You’ll always have us.’

He smiled. ‘Then I have all I need.’

‘Emma? Lizzy? Where are my new sunnies?’ Charli demanded as she burst into the kitchen. ‘Did you take them?’

‘I have no idea where your sunglasses are,’ Lizzy retorted. ‘And no, I didn’t take them. Why would I?’

‘You and Em are always borrowing my stuff.’

‘If you mean those rubbish heart-shaped pink ones, the last time I saw them, they were lying on the beach towel where you threw them.’

‘Oh, no!’ Charlotte wailed. ‘They must’ve fallen into the sand when we packed everything up. Those are my
favourite
sunnies! I planned to wear them tomorrow on Ciaran’s yacht.’

‘Then you should’ve been more careful,’ Mr Bennet said reasonably. ‘Now I suppose you’ll have to buy another pair.’ He rose, his mug of tea in hand.

‘I ordered those sunglasses
online
, Daddy. From
London
. I’ll never find a pair like that in Litchfield, or even Longbourne, ever again!’

‘I’ll be in my study if anyone is looking for me,’ Mr Bennet said to Lizzy. He turned back to his youngest daughter. ‘As I see it you have two options, Charlotte. You must either wear another pair of sunglasses tomorrow, or resolve to stay home while your sisters are on their cruise with Ciaran. I trust you’ll come to the proper conclusion. Goodnight, girls.’

‘Goodnight,’ they echoed as he left.

When he’d gone, Charli turned to Lizzy. ‘Don’t you dare say a word. I see you smirking.’

‘I hardly need to say anything,’ Lizzy told her. ‘Daddy said it all, and very well. To cruise, or not to cruise;
that
is the question,’ she mused. ‘Whether ‘tis nobler to suffer the indignity of wearing ordinary sunglasses…’ She grinned.

Charli glared at her, then turned away and stalked back upstairs and slammed her door, sending poor Aunt Henrietta’s portrait crashing, once again, to the floor.

***

Although Cleremont’s dining room table was laid with the finest china and linens that evening, and although the scents of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding – Harry’s favourites – wafted on the air, Holly had little appetite as Hugh pulled out her chair.

Poor Harry. The loss of the regatta cup had left him gutted. He’d barely said a word when they’d gone to the
Pemberley
to see him after the race, only brushed past her and Hugh with a grim expression and said that he and the captain had something important to take care of, and that he wouldn’t be back in time for dinner.

‘You’re not about to do something stupid, are you?’ Hugh had called after him sharply.

‘No,’ Harry flung back. ‘I’m about to do something necessary.’

The mood was sombre now as Higgins and the chef carried in what should have been a festive, celebratory meal of roast beef, souffléd spinach and roasted potatoes – ‘the only two vegetables that Harry can tolerate,’ his mother had informed Holly.

After the wine was poured and everyone was served, Higgins and the chef departed. The only sound was the muted clink of utensils against china as they all began, dispiritedly, to eat.

Barely five minutes had passed when Hugh let out a sharp breath and flung his fork and knife down. ‘Oh, for God’s sake. We only lost the regatta, not a family member. Let’s try and keep things in perspective, shall we?’

Lord Darcy scowled. ‘I’m sorry, Hugh, but it’s still a bloody shame. The
Pemberley
should’ve won that race. And if not for those blasted seagulls, she would have!’

‘What do you suppose happened?’ Holly asked, perplexed. She winced as she remembered how the gulls had swooped and… pooped, all over the Darcy yacht. ‘What on earth made them do such a thing?’

‘It’s chicanery of some sort, mark my words,’ Hugh’s father vowed. ‘The
Meryton
’s crew was determined to win, I’ve no doubt, and by whatever means necessary.’

‘But darling,’ Lady Sarah said reasonably, ‘how could they possibly have known that those gulls would…’ She paused, and gave a delicate shudder. ‘Do what they did, all over the
Pemberley
? No one could’ve predicted such an outcome.’

‘Someone could.’

They all looked up, startled, to see Harry standing in the dining room doorway. His expression could only be called grim.

‘Harry!’ his mother exclaimed. ‘Oh, my poor baby, we’re
so
sorry…’

He held up a hand to cut her off. ‘Please, Mum. I’m all right. I won’t go into the details over dinner,’ he said, his words even as his glanced raked over them. ‘But what happened today was definitely an act of sabotage, and I have proof – proof which is now in the hands of the regatta committee.’

Hugh frowned. ‘And who is the suspected saboteur? As if I didn’t know,’ he added darkly. ‘It’s Ciaran, isn’t it?’

‘No.’ Harry shook his head. ‘Although I’m sure he’s involved. No, the guilty party is this chap here.’ He turned and gestured to someone hovering behind him in the hallway. ‘Come in, please.’ His voice brooked no argument.

And as they all stared at the doorway in astonishment, a little boy with gingery blond hair shuffled in, his head hanging and his face flushed with embarrassment.

Holly gasped. ‘Billy?’

The table erupted into an uproar as everyone began talking at once.

‘Most extraordinary!’

‘Who is this young rapscallion?’

‘Holly, do you
know
this boy?’

‘…can scarcely believe it!’

‘Oh, you poor little lamb!’ Lady Darcy exclaimed, and thrust her chair back to go and take the boy into her arms. ‘Who put you up to this?’

But of course he didn’t answer, only wriggled free and regarded her from behind Harry’s leg with a wary expression.

‘Who is he?’ she asked Harry, straightening. ‘Where did you find him, and how do you know that he… did this?’ Her expression was perplexed as she glanced at the boy. ‘Surely he’s too young to climb up a ship’s mast on his own.’