"I will not leave," Kiernan asserted.
Marcus swung his attention onto his son. "You will return to school. Refuse, and I will have you bound and taken back to Brahan Seer, where you will remain until I return."
"If you return," Kiernan shot back.
"You are old enough to understand—"
"Old enough to understand a fool's errand when I see one."
"The boy deserves an explanation," Justin said.
Marcus stared at his son, then looked at Justin. This was the first the two of them had demanded an explanation for his actions of the previous evening. He understood that he might appear insane. When he'd left the church in search of Sara MacPhee, he hadn't commanded them to leave, but neither had he explained the hurried ride to her home, nor the search of the immediate area when her cottage was found empty.
No words were spoken on the return trip home and Justin and Kiernan didn't accost him when he closeted himself in his study the length of the night. They knew nothing of what he'd read in the preliminary report entitled "Elisabeth Kingston" that had sat on his desk until last night. Kingston. At last, he knew her name. Marcus closed his eyes. Why did you not tell me, Elise? Too late, he knew her identity and why she was in the Scottish Highlands.
The daughter of a wealthy shipping baron, Elise had lost her father at age fifteen. She was now thirty—older than he'd thought. She married Robert Kingston—not Riley, as she had called him—seven years ago. Amelia Kingston had been born a year after the marriage. Amelia died aboard the ship that bore her name. Robert, too, had died. Only, he hadn't drowned in the wreckage of the ship but had been brought down by a bullet administered by his wife. Marcus's wife, the Marchioness of Ashlund, was wanted for murder. What pushed a woman to murder her husband?
Marcus's man of affairs had attempted to find the Amelia's captain to answer that question, but ship and captain were on an extended voyage to Australia and wouldn't return for six more months. He'd located only one crewmember who had been aboard the Amelia on that voyage. The crewmember told of a nasty storm that had raged the night Elise had been lost at sea. Robert appeared on deck during the storm. He had a pistol, but before he could use it, Elise shot him. He returned fire as he fell. Steven was hit, but not mortally wounded. Elise had told him Steven went down with the ship. She must have believed Steven dead by her husband's bullet.
A massive wave struck the ship and swept Elise overboard. Everyone in America thought her dead, which didn't explain the notice advertised by her stepfather, Price Ardsley, that named her murderer. The investigator included in his report the rumor that Price Ardsley was unhappy with the twenty-five percent interest in Landen Shipping, which had fallen to Elise on her twenty-fifth birthday. If not for the twenty-six percent her brother controlled in Landen Shipping, her interest would be of small consequence to Price Ardsley.
The Amelia never docked in London, but did arrive back in Boston three weeks later. Two months ago, another ship owned by Landen Shipping arrived in the southern dock at Rotherhithe, Scotland. Price Ardsley had been aboard the ship.
Marcus picked up the envelope that contained the report on Elise and tossed it to Justin. He caught it and they made eye contact.
"You have one hour." Marcus looked at Kiernan. "Then I leave for Glasgow."
Marcus paused on the boardwalk outside the shabby pawnbroker's shop and scanned the dock. Despite the early hour, hackneys passed in both directions on the street beside him and Justin, and sailors strode along the walkways, while others loaded and unloaded supplies and goods. A woman, likely one of the notoriously dishonest public house landlords the riverside teemed with or one of the brothel madams, hurried across the road. This was the neighborhood Elise had been in when Daniel found her. Marcus shuddered at what could have happened to her, then remembered what had happened to her less than half an hour from Ashlund.
"Are you all right?" Justin asked.
Marcus nodded, then entered the shop. A small man stood behind the counter in the rear of the room, his back to them as he examined an item Marcus assumed belonged to the man who stood on the other side of the counter. The man behind the counter turned. His gaze fell first on Marcus, then flicked to Justin and returned to Marcus. His eyes widened. Marcus glanced at the gold pocket watch the man clutched before the hand disappeared behind his back. Marcus strode toward the man with Justin following. The customer turned. He didn't step aside as they stopped beside him, only scrutinized Justin, who stood closest.
"Do we know one another?" Justin asked with a lift of his brow.
The man gave a rough laugh. "Nay, canna' say I've had the pleasure."
Justin turned to the man behind the counter. "Are you the proprietor, sir?"