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Tag: Fenwick on Sea

Fairy Nonsense in the Village at the End of the World

To the Editor of the Teatime Tattler

Dear Sir

Your paper has recently given coverage to a ridiculous story that is pretends to be a local legend, but that is, in truth, a blatant stunt by an ambitious innkeeper that hopes to make money from tourists seeking true love.

I speak, of course, of the village of F on S, a remote and tumbledown fishing village on the Sussex coast, from which rumors have been spreading about a fairy well, and the “true love blessing” to be gained by drinking its waters.

Having spent several weeks in said village, I can assure your readers that the water does no such thing. I will acknowledge that the villagers are welcoming, the cottages are charming, and the air is salubrious. But fairies? Magic water? I, myself, took the opportunity to drink the water with several quite delightful ladies who had come to see the rumored well for themselves, and here I am, still quite unattached and fancy free.

As to whether I kissed said ladies or not, a gentleman does not speak of such things.

I was also present when a certain distant relative of a well-known duke and a not particularly distinguished but pleasant lady themselves sampled the water on the insistence of said innkeeper. Mr. T. M. and Miss A. W. were already betrothed without the intervention of any magic, though the innkeeper has taken all the credit to himself.

It cannot be argued that the couple are not in love. They are—most unfashionably so. Did the water have anything to do with it? I think not.

Your readers may indeed choose to visit Fenwick, and will no doubt enjoy the experience. Go for the holiday. Go for the sea air. Go for the pleasure of listening to the innkeeper’s tales. But do not fool yourself that the secret of true love lies in the water. 

With most sincere best wishes from one who signs himself,

A friend to the truth.

Set in Stone

By Jude Knight

Arianna Westbrook has been dragged to Fenwick by her mother, who is anxious to test the truth of the Fenwick legend. She is triumphant when an eligible bachelor makes an offer for Arianna’s hand. Not so Arianna. She recognizes Edwin Mills as the worst kind of fortune hunter.

Thomas Medlock has a treasure to salvage from a ship that was sunk in April’s terrible storm. He and his partners have borrowed from their client to buy a diving bell, but success will see them free, clear, and with a reputation second to none. He doesn’t have time to rescue damsels in distress.

Except that Arianna is his every dream come true. Besides, with her mother against her, she needs someone who is on her side, with no expectations and no questions asked.

Meet Thom

My hero is one third partner in a marine salvage company, in Fenwick to retrieve a treasure that was aboard one of the ships that sunk in a storm off the Fenwick coast. On a day too windy for diving, he meets a young woman in the village’s Norman church, and discovers a treasure for a lifetime.

Meet Arianna

Arianna is a wealthy heiress who doesn’t want her mother to encourage any more fortune tellers. But how is Arianna to meet a decent and worthy man when her mother has such poor taste in suitors and her own motivations? Yet only one man makes her heart sing. Only one man looks at her, and sees past her wealth.

Diving in 1815

I had great fun finding out about diving bells and their history, and the diving suits that would have been in use in 1815. Here are a couple of excerpts based on that information.

***

Excerpt 1 from Set in Stone

The wreck had broken apart in the storm that had blown it onto the rocks. Thom had interviewed the captain and some of the other survivors, and knew that. His initial survey had confirmed that further storms had scattered debris quite some distance across the reef and the seabed.

Thom had drawn a grid based on that initial survey, with numbered sections for the divers to search. The divers would start with those most likely to contain the detritus of the captain’s cabin, and work out from there.

The first pair descended in their leather suits and copper helmets. The suits fastened tightly at the elbows and knees, leaving the hands and feet bare, and each helmet had a row of windows at eye level, so the wearer could see. A pair of long leather tubes connected to each helmet, one to deliver fresh air and one to allow stale air to escape. A pair of sailors from the crew took first turn on the pumps that sent air down the fresh air tube.

Air was pumped in close to the divers’ mouths, which not only allowed them to breathe underwater, but also helped to send the stale air up the second tube attached to the helmet, and kept the seams of the suits from leaking too rapidly so the divers could stay down for their full half hour. Or longer, but Jim’s rules for the divers erred on the side of safety.

The second pair of divers, the rest of the crew, and the three partners had little to do until the half hour passed. The first pair came up, the second went down, and another two sailors took over the task of pumping. Thom assisted the divers to remove their helmets, and they settled in the chairs ready for them, where pen and paper waited for them to record what they had seen.

Hanging over their shoulders while they worked would achieve nothing. Thom waited as patiently as he could for the next change over, so he could collect up the notes and examine them.

Excerpt 2 from Set in Stone

They had found the captain’s cabin—or, at least, part of it.

“We shall stop for our break,” Thom proclaimed. “And then, when the divers are rested, we’ll lower the diving bell.”

Two of the divers would seat themselves on ledges inside the huge wood and metal device, which would then be carefully lowered to the sea bottom. The divers wouldn’t need their helmets, and they wouldn’t have their view obscured by moving water. The bell would remain largely full of air, and the divers would be able to search, even digging over the section of sea bottom under the bell to check that nothing was hidden.

It would be the same rules as before, adapted for the change from suits to the bell. Two pairs of divers, changing places each time the bell was moved to a fresh piece of sea bottom, and two sailors on the pump that kept the air in the bell from becoming stale.

If their luck held, they might finish their task today.

Serious Skulduggery at the Queen’s Barque

Our readers will be aware that, due to the recent storm and floods, a great variety of strangers have been trapped in Fenwick-on-Sea, especially at the Queen’s Barque Inn. Among the rife scandal and gossip, we now have reason to believe, greater skulduggery is afoot..

We recently reported on the startling physical similarity of one shipwrecked guest, Mrs. Simon, to the heiress Miss Letitia Lovell. We can now reveal that Mr. Kent, the heiress’s maternal uncle and guardian, has been seen in the neighborhood of the inn, along with his son, who, in the past, has claimed an “understanding” with his cousin, Miss Lovell.

Is this coincidence? Or are the Kents in pursuit of a runaway? Are the supposed Mr. and Mrs. Simon even married? Has the mysterious Mr. Simon, who was observed enjoying a pint of ale in the company of Mr. Kent, been, in vulgar parlance, “bought off” by the lady’s legal guardian? Is there a tug-of-war for the young lady’s safety and well-being? Or for her fortune?

All will surely be revealed in the coming days.

Those Bluestocking Belles are investigating our reporter!

Since your Teatime Tattler has been able to report doings in Fenwick on Sea, authors have offered a reward for someone who unmasks our reporter!

Enter to win.

Correctly identify the reporter and be entered to win a $100 gift card and other great prizes. There are details amd instructions for entering here: https://bluestockingbelles.net/belles-joint-projects/storm-shelter/wanted-the-snooping-teatime-tattler-reporter/

About the Book

Eight authors, eight heartwarming novellas, one horrific storm!

When a storm blows off the North Sea and slams into the village of Fenwick on Sea, the villagers prepare for the inevitable: shipwreck, flood, land slips, and stranded travelers. The Queen’s Barque Inn quickly fills with the injured, the devious, and the lonely—lords, ladies, and simple folk; spies, pirates, and smugglers all trapped together. Intrigue crackles through the village, and passion lights up the hotel.

A Bluestocking Belles and Friends Collection

CLICK for links to various retailers

An Improbable Hero: Mary Lancaster

A runaway heiress, a mysterious stranger.

When Letty’s ship founders in a violent storm, she forges a rare bond with her rescuer.

Simon is a troubled man on a final, deadly mission—until the spirited yet soothing Letty makes him question everything. Hiding in plain sight among the refugees at The Queen’s Barque, Simon is more than capable of protecting them both. But when the floods recede, can either of them say goodbye?

Gossip Spreads Through Fenwick on Sea

Kitty Smothers, youngest and newest of the girls in service at the Queen’s Barque, swung her broom with more enthusiasm than skill. It didn’t much matter. With the inn bursting at the seams and all the paying rooms full of well-off travelers, Mrs. Brewster sent them to clean out the old wing, the one with more cobwebs than heat and more mice than usable furniture. They needed it for all the refugees coming up from the beach, didn’t they?

The storm, the fiercest in all of Kitty’s fourteen years, rattled the windows where there was still glass, where they hadn’t been papered over. She listened wide eyed while Nelly Jones chattered a mile a minute while she swatted at the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and giggled with Annie Burke.

“I think Mr. Simon is the handsomest,” Annie said.

“He don’t hold a candle to Captain Rousseau—Jasper,” Nelly sighed dramatically.

“Looks more like a pirate to me, him with that ship stuck out on the shoals,” Annie argued. “Mr. Simon has that mysterious air…”

“Sneaky more like,” Nelly said. “and besides, he’s married.”

“Shows what you know.” Annie dropped her voice and beckoned Nelly closer. Kitty moved nearer to listen. “Those girls Mrs. Fullerton sent over from Morphew Manor told Mags and Alice in the kitchen that there’s folks from London staying at the manor.”

“So what’s that to us?” Nelly said out loud.

Annie shushed her. “Mags told me they’re here for that so-called Mrs. Simon. Says she’s really betrothed to the dandy staying at the Manor. Simon isn’t married at all.”

Kitty tilted her head, puzzled. “But he and Mrs. Simon are sharing a room.”

Annie and Nelly laughed at her. “You think every pair that puts up at an inn claiming to be married really are?”

“How about that Lord Stanton. He’s as handsome as can be,” Kitty said.

“He’s a lord, ain’t he? No point in mooning after a lord,” Annie said. “Besides, have you seen how he looks at his lady? Honeymooning those two—for sure.”

“But you said not every couple who claim to be married…” Kitty still thought he was handsome.

“Some are, you ninny. The real question about those two is what are they doing in Fenwick on Sea? Folks like that go to Paris. Or Brighton. Odd if you ask me,” Nelly said.

“I’ll tell you who’s odd. That Cosistas fellow. Slimy fish. Have you seen how he looks at that Fynlock woman? Gives me the creeps.” Annie shivered just to show them.

“I—” Whatever Kitty would have said was interrupted by an arrival.

“How is this room coming? Can I send in the men with the straw bedding?” Patience Abney, she that teaches at the charity school above town, stood in the door waiting for an answer.

“Will do in a few more minutes, Miss Abney,” Annie said.

Patience smiled at them. “Good. Mr. Somerville the vicar came with word there are more folk on their way. We need every room. Hurry it up.” She swept out.

Nelly made an ugly face after her.

“I like Miss Abney; she’s always kind,” Kitty said. “It’s generous of her to help out.”

“She’s only working here to pay so her boys can stay out in the stables,” Annie said.

“Thinks she’s better than us, her with her fancy school. Peter told me their roof caved in. We’ll see how high and mighty she is now,” Nelly said.

“High enough. I heard talk,” Annie said.

“What do you mean?” Kitty asked, finishing up her sweeping and picking up the dust pan.

“I heard those two high nosed ladies in the big suite on the first floor talking. Patience Abney isn’t what she looks like. She’s an earl’s niece.”

“Gol. Come on hard times for sure, emptying night soil like the rest of us and sweeping up this ruin of a wing,” Nelly said.

“Got that right,” Annie agreed.

The girls finished the room and picked up their rags and brooms to move on. When they squeezed by Patience Abney in the hall directing footmen to bring straw bedding to the room they just finished, Nelly dipped a mocking curtsy behind her back and Annie giggled.

They handed all the dirty rags and dust pan to Kitty, sending her to the kitchen. As Kitty walked away, she heard Nelly’s last pronouncement.

“I’ll tell you what else I heard. Some folks think there’s a reporter from that Teatime Tattler staying here, taking notes on all these folks. What do you think of that?”

Kitty continued downstairs, dumped the dirt and picked up new rags. She nodded greetings to Alice, Mags, and the girls from Morphew Manor who waited tables and worked in the kitchen. On her way out something caught her eye, lying on the work table. It was The Teatime Tattler folded up to a headline, “Storm ravages Great Yarmouth and the coast.”

“Get on with it, Kitty. This isn’t a library,” Mrs. Brewster snapped pointing to the door.

Kitty smiled on her way up the servant stairs. “We’re going to be famous.”

***

A Reporter Snooping Around? We can’t have it. There’s an award for the person that figures out who it is. The answers are buried in Storm & Shelter.

A Bluestocking Belles with Friends Collection

When a storm blows off the North Sea and slams into the village of Fenwick on Sea, the villagers prepare for the inevitable: shipwreck, flood, land slips, and stranded travelers. The Queen’s Barque Inn quickly fills with the injured, the devious, and the lonely—lords, ladies, and simple folk; spies, pirates, and smugglers all trapped together. Intrigue crackles through the village, and passion lights up the hotel.

One storm, eight authors, eight heartwarming novellas.

Available on Amazon or various other vendors,

More about each story here.

Join the Hunt

There are three big prizes. Enter the contest!

How to enter

  • Read the book.
  • Send your guess about the identity of person writing the reports for The Teatime Tattler to teatimetattlereditor@yahoo.com

Details are here!

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