My Dear Marcus,
I have only now received word concerning Steven Landen. The boy is a lieutenant in the US Army and functions as a tracker for them. As of three months ago, Lieutenant Landen was stationed with the 23rd Cavalry Division on the Tyger River in South Carolina. The Army is slow in updating its records; the boy may have been sent elsewhere in the meantime. I hope this information will suffice to connect you with him.
Another bit of news I know will interest you. My wife is acquainted with Mrs Charles Hampton, of the Burlington Hamptons. (No, I do not expect you to know them, but you may take my word that they are among the Boston elite.) Mrs Hampton remembers the calamity which struck the Amelia on that fateful trip to England. Apparently, the story was widely discussed amongst Mrs Hampton's class, a class, as you know, far above my own station.
My wife related to me the tale as told to her by Mrs Hampton as follows: When the Amelia docked and her captain advised Price Ardsley of Elise Kingston's fate, he was grief-stricken. Your wife's brother, the young Lieutenant Landen, was seriously injured and went into forced convalescence for nearly three months. Even before his release from the hospital, he demanded a search be mounted for his sister. The demand was flatly refused, most notably by Ardsley, though the directors of Landen Shipping did agree. They believed that had Mrs Kingston survived, she would have returned to Boston.
None of this surprises you, as I well know. There is, however, one piece of information I believe will. Steven Landen contends that the night Elise was lost at sea, he came upon Robert Kingston strangling her. Steven thwarted the murder attempt, and he and Elise escaped up to the deck.
Marcus stared, his gaze fixed on the words he came upon Robert Kingston strangling her. Elise's husband had tried to kill her. His chest tightened. This explained why she shot him. Marcus closed his eyes. Elise, why didn't you tell me? He forced back the pain, opened his eyes, and refocused on the letter.
While they were on deck, Robert appeared. Elise shot her husband. Robert pulled a pistol from his pocket after she drew on him, and returned fire. Steven took the bullet he says was meant for his sister. When Steven regained consciousness, the captain informed him Elise had fallen overboard and that Steven had tried rescuing her by cutting down the longboat. Steven has no memory of this.
Ardsley proposed that Robert Kingston wanted to eliminate Elise in order to claim her shares in Landen Shipping. Ardsley preached this philosophy with a depth of gravity that Mrs Hampton described as '"most admirable.'"
I wish I could be of more service. Travel safely to South Carolina. I look forward to learning of your success when you return.
Sincerely,
Colonel Martin Shay
"South Carolina," Marcus said in a low voice, but his mind still staggered with the picture of Robert Kingston strangling his wife—my wife, Marcus's mind shot back. Memory of her broken body after the carriage crash filled his mind.
The clock that hung on the wall near the door gonged. He jerked his gaze onto the clock, dispelling the bloody vision. Six o'clock. Justin would arrive any minute. Even as he folded the letter with expert precision and set it beside him on the table, the door opened and Justin entered. A waiter followed close behind. The waiter pulled Justin's chair out as he seated himself across from Marcus.
Justin lifted the wine bottle sitting on the table and poured the remainder of the wine into his glass. He handed the bottle to the waiter. "Another bottle, if you please, and…" He paused, then focused on Marcus. "No dinner yet?"
Marcus gave a slight shake of his head.
Justin turned to the waiter. "Have you any pigeon pie?"
The waiter looked horrified. "This is not a port tavern, sir."
Justin raised a brow. "Can you name a port tavern that serves pigeon pie? Never mind. You do have filet mignon?"
The waiter straightened. "Of course."
"Be kind enough to bring two then, along with whatever you Americans consider appropriate accompaniments." Justin reached for his wine, clearly dismissing him.
The waiter looked as though he would like to bludgeon Justin with the wine bottle but turned stiffly and left the room.
Marcus leaned back in his chair. "You have a knack for condescension."
"Never say you think the fellow was right?"
"Not right," Marcus replied. "Simply not worth the time."
Justin snorted. "Had I not done it, you would have." Marcus started to reply, but stopped short at the gleam that appeared in Justin's eye. "Marcus, prepare yourself… she is alive."
Marcus's hand jerked, upsetting his glass. Wine spread across the linen tablecloth. Justin started, nearly tipping over his own glass.
"Bloody hell," Marcus cursed, and set the glass upright. He ignored the stain. "What are you talking about?"
"Three months ago, Ardsley announced that Elise had returned to America."