September 23rd, 1889Mrs. Laverna Flint,
What do you think you are playing at? I knew this was to be a bad idea.
I was foolish to think any relative of that Scrimgeour tramp would turn out any differently and your daughter was much the same!
She is nothing but a pigeon-livered, strumpet of a hornswoggler. I hope you are happy that she has allowed herself to ruin her future by running off to bed with some nameless, good-for-nothing boy that just wants her skirt.
At least I was clear in my intentions and I was to see to her well. But of course, I was foolish. It would not surprise me in the slightest if she has run off to the country to become some hedge-creeper.
Blood runs thick, Mrs Flint, and I ought to have realised you and your extended family are nothing but meaters.
Be assured your family is ruined and your whore of a daughter has destroyed any sort of happiness she could have had.
With absolutely no regard,
Mr. D. Lécuyer
The letter seems hastily written and there's a dried up spot of some sort of liquid, presumably alcohol