From Fitzroy's Private Diary (Extract 66)

To my utter joy, Celeste has lost her husband. She’d only had him a year and a half, so I suppose one could accuse her of carelessness. She is not, to be clear, once more a widow, but has mislaid her husband somewhere in China, where they were on some kind of diplomatic mission.

 I found her a little down in spirits. Her husband is a reasonably intelligent diplomat of significant status, if dreadfully, dreadfully dull. She has become accustomed to playing host for him and had hoped they would shortly settle in an embassy for a few years. I think she wanted something in the antipodes. Personally, I never found it an especially interesting area of the world, very hot and full of abnormally large, and frequently venomous, creatures. Like most men, I can deal with a good old British spider, but those enormous bird eating ones down there are simply freakish.

Now, in Asia you have such wonders as the Shoebill Stork, an utterly preposterous looking creature, but completely harmless. Still, to return to the subject of Celeste’s reasonably new husband (Cecil? Cedric?), it appears he may have either been taken hostage, a terribly serious situation for the Crown, or simply gone off into some remote area, only for the roads to wash out. The latter is unfortunate, but not a crisis. As I said to Celeste, there is absolutely no reason to think him dead. Her sorrow has begun to ease under my reassurances and gentle support.

 I suppose if the wretch doesn’t turn up soon, they will have to send a delegation over to find him. The local chaps on the ground don’t seem much up to the task. Language is apparently a problem. So far, I have managed to keep from Celeste the fact that I speak the necessary tongues required. The last thing I want is to be seconded away from the department, and my current projects, to have to journey half-way round the world. It takes a devil of a time to get there. Besides, while I wish the man no actual harm, I have a certain vested interest in keeping him away a little longer. Celeste has finally agreed to allow me to take her out to dine and I know all too well what a good dinner, and a good bottle of wine, puts her in the mood for. Of course, I shall be only too happy to oblige.