Wilder Perkins - "Hoare and the Portsmouth Atrocities"

Jacket blurbs:-

ALTHOUGH BARTHOLOMEW HOARE has acquitted himself nobly on ship-board and battle, and worked his way up to lieutenant in King George IIl's Royal Navy, he cannot count his present life a satisfactory one. For one thing, he and his brother (as his father before him, all of them descended from Vikings) have always had to use their fists to defend their name and its implications from schoolboys, shipmates, and generally impolite Britons at every social level. That Bartholomew can handle. But a spent musket ball in the throat put a halt to a promising career at sea, and Hoare was left with a glowing recommendation and exclusively shore duties. Obviously, a captain whose orders could not be issued above a whisper could never command a ship.

To Hoare, who loves the sea, it is a tragedy, as he is forced to do the land-based tasks assigned to him. His present mission is to discover what has happened to the ship that disappeared in nearby waters, and whether the strange contents of a small keg found in the sand are involved in the mystery. And it is a quest that begins Hoare's acquaintance with the extraordinary Mrs. Eleanor Graves—by his saving her from attacking ruffians, with her active and enthusiastic assistance. It is a meeting that starts a dramatic train of events. For one thing, Hoare is asked to put his talents to work on behalf of a young officer charged with the murder of his captain, a fellow of questionable probity and brutal temper. Hoare's investigation leads toevidence of criminal activity beyond the captain's murder. It's a chance for the lieutenant to further distinguish himself—if he isn't killed first.
But life is not all trouble. Hoare becomes close friends with Eleanor Graves and her retired, and much older, physician husband. He meets a rather suspect visitor from abroad, and encounters assorted townspeople, both high and low—including the Graveses' dinner guest his first night in town, one Miss Jane Austen.

With its strong period atmosphere, its unusual and colorful characters, and its nautical focus, Perkins's first novel will entice readers who love the novels of Patrick O'Brian. And many others as well will be delighted to discover this author and his book, and will wait impatiently for Bartholomew Hoare's next adventure.

It was now that Hoare first saw Eleanor Graves: a short woman in brown, her brown hair blowing across her face in the spray-laden
gusts. She rose from behind an overturned shallop, to face two tinker-like men with long cudgels who were approaching her along the beach at a purposeful trot. Fifty feet from her, and the same from him, Hoare could hear their jeering voices.

Putting two fingers into his mouth, Hoare blew a piercing whistle. The attackers paused. Then, seeing they had only one man to contend with, one turned to await Hoare's landing while the other continued his purposeful advance.

The woman 'reached back. In her left hand she held a sling—a sling! She twirled the ancient weapon underhand as if she were heaving the lead in a man-of-war's chains and slung a rock at her leading assailant. It struck him full in the forehead; he dropped, his legs twitched like a pair of gaffed salmon.

The other attacker stopped in his tracks. This was his mistake, for now the woman took a full step toward him and let fly another rock. She threw it this time, using her right hand and not her left. She must have hit her target in his nose or mouth, for Hoare saw him clap both hands to his face and heard a choked cry of pain.

Inconceivable grounded with a soft crunch at the feet of the two men. Hoare pulled the tiller from its straps to serve as a makeshift quarter-staff and launched himself over her bows at them. There was no need; the two were in no condition to fight on.

"Davids two, Goliaths zero," whispered Hare to himself, and stepped up the shingly beach toward the woman in brown.

—from Hoare and the Portsmouth Atrocities

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