Chapter Eighteen #3
“You have any idea how many people have information concerning my sister?” Steven's expression turned speculative.
“None of them ever tracked me through the wilderness.
You must feel damn confident about your information.
You have five minutes. I should warn you, however, if I don't find your story amusing, I'll kill you.”
A melancholy warmth rippled through Marcus. “That sounds like something your sister would say.”
Steven's gaze turned icy. “If you want to delay dying, don't bother with the amusing anecdotes.”
“I will begin with this.” Marcus reached into the front pocket of his buckskin jacket.
Steven pointed his rifle at Marcus. “Easy.”
Marcus paused, then slowly produced his and Elise's wedding certificate from the pocket. He dismounted, then strode to Steven and extended the certificate to him.
Steven rested his rifle against the tree he'd been hiding in. “Don't think we're alone,” he said as he unfolded the document, “I saved Joseph's life once. He can't return to his Chickasaw tribe until he returns the favor, so he's hoping like hell someone will try to kill me.”
Steven scanned the document. A moment later, he looked at Marcus and gave a short laugh. “You got the name wrong. Elise is not a Merriwether.”
“Nae,” Marcus said, “she's a MacGregor.”
Half an hour later, Marcus laid Elise's death certificate on the ground between him and Steven. The boy stared at the document. The fire they had built flickered off his pale face in the waning daylight. He lifted his gaze to Marcus.
“No death certificate was issued for Elise.” He stared at Marcus for a long moment before saying, “I have no way of knowing if a word of what you say is true.”
“Perhaps you do.” Marcus retrieved the gold band from his front pocket. He laid the ring on the death certificate.
Steven looked at the ring, his brow furrowing in thought, then he picked it up and held it up to the firelight. Marcus watched him read the words etched inside the band—For all eternity—words he'd read a thousand times over the last month.
Steven set the ring back on the document and looked at him. “Why tell me any of this?” He nodded toward the death certificate. “She's dead.”
Marcus took a deep breath. “Mayhap not.” He produced the next piece of evidence: the notice of reward for Elise's body that had appeared in the Sunday Times.
By the time Marcus finished with the more bizarre half of his tale, Steven's expression had hardened.
“I knew Price was a fortune hunter, but this goes beyond anything I suspected.
Twenty-six percent of Landen Shipping remained held in trust for me until I reached twenty-one.
When the shares became mine, Price wasn't pleased, but he still held controlling interest. Elise married Robert when she was twenty-one, four years before she would come into possession of her inheritance. Not that it mattered; Robert controlled the purse.”
“The woman you describe is different than the one I knew. Elise—” Marcus laughed, “She has done things many men would grow fainthearted over.”
Steven picked up the stick he'd laid beside him earlier and poked the fire. “She never wanted for courage. That night on the Amelia, she surprised even me.” Steven looked at him with sudden surprise. “Damn! Her journal.”
Marcus tensed. “What?”
Steven plunged the stick into the ground. “Amelia's doctor instructed Elise to keep a journal in order to chronicle her illness. After she died, Elise began doing research. Actually, she began the research before Amelia died but, by then, it was too late.”
“Too late?”
“Amelia was diagnosed with everything from heart trouble to nervous disorders. No one could offer a cure. You won't believe this, I wouldn't have believed it either had I not caught Robert trying to kill her, but Elise suspected Robert of poisoning Amelia.”
Marcus went cold. “Bloody hell.”
“I learned of her suspicions from the journal. By then, Robert was gone.” He gave Marcus a frank look. “Despite how I felt about Robert, if I hadn't walked in when he was strangling Elise that night, I would have attributed her suspicions to… well…”
Marcus clenched his fist. “If the bastard were alive, I would kill him myself.”
Steven gave a cold laugh. “I would have done it long ago.”
“Aye,” he said. “I wager you would have.”
Steven laid the stick back on the ground beside him. “Price being in Scotland and that bounty don't prove Elise didn't die in the carriage accident.”
Marcus held his gaze. “Three months ago, Ardsley told the Landen Shipping board of directors that Elise was here in America.”
Steven went white.
“Are you all right, lad?”
“When Elise married, I gave her my shares in Landen Shipping.”
Marcus gave a slow nod. “The stakes are even higher. Ardsley has begun negotiations for a large loan to Landen Shipping. He wants to expand the shipping routes.”
Steven started. “What?”
“He began negotiations six months ago.”
“How can he hope to make the vote without me?” Steven's lip curled up in a derisive twist. “Of course.”
“Aye,” Marcus said. “He would not need you if he has Elise.”