Page 14 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

“I suspect she’s quite content with the situation.” Unconsciously, Inspector Ross echoed what Mrs. Frogerton often told Caroline. “She likes to be needed and busy, and the Scuttons have certainly offered her plenty to do.”

“I suppose so.” After making sure her employer was already supplied with both food and drink, Caroline picked up a plate and helped herself, Inspector Ross still beside her. “It still seems a dreadful imposition.”

“But they’ll be moving into Morton House at some point,” Inspector Ross reminded her.

“When Mrs. Scutton feels able to cope,” Caroline said. “And if Mr. Scutton truly is the earl.”

“She seems to be a strong woman. I’m sure she’ll come about.

” Inspector Ross looked back at the door where Mr. Scutton had just come in.

“Will you excuse me? I’ll go offer Mr. Scutton my condolences, speak to the vicar and then I need to be on my way.

The search for the Brigham brothers is a priority.

I’m sure Mr. Scutton will be delighted to hear that one of the stable boys saw the Brighams coming into the garden through the unlocked gate to the mews. ”

“I suppose that depends on whether he was the one who unlocked it. Thank you for coming,” Caroline said.

“It’s my pleasure, Lady Caroline.” He walked with her to where Mrs. Frogerton was chatting to the vicar and his wife and bowed. “I have to leave, ma’am. Thank you for inviting me.”

“It’s always lovely to see you, Inspector Ross, even on a such a sad occasion as this.” Mrs. Frogerton offered him her hand, and he bent to kiss her fingers. “I’m sure we’ll see you soon.”

“I hope so, ma’am. The quicker we find the Brigham brothers, the better it will be for everyone.” He inclined his head and went over to Mr. Scutton, who looked less than pleased to see him. It took but a moment for the men to exchange words, and then Inspector Ross left.

Duty compelled Caroline to go over to Mr. Scutton, who was standing with Mr. Castle, and attend to his needs. “Would you care for some refreshments, sir?” Caroline asked.

“Just some tea, please.” He visibly straightened his back. He looked exhausted. “I need to go tell my mother how the ceremony went.”

Caroline nodded and was just about to turn away when he touched her arm. “May I ask a favor of you?”

“Yes, of course.”

“My sister’s belongings.”

Caroline took a moment to consider exactly what he was asking her before venturing a guess.

“Would you like me to pack them up for you?”

“I’d like you to sort them out—give the personal items to me and get rid of her … clothing and such. I don’t think my mother is in a fit state to accomplish this task, but I dread her going into Mary’s room and seeing everything still there.”

“That is very thoughtful of you, Mr. Scutton,” Caroline said. “I’ll speak to Mrs. Frogerton and attend to the matter as soon as she gives me leave.”

“Thank you.” He bowed stiffly. “I’d appreciate it.”

“You’re most welcome, sir,” Caroline said. “Now, let me get you a cup of tea while you thank the vicar, and then you can take it up with you to visit your mother.”

After the last guest departed, Mrs. Frogerton went for her afternoon nap, leaving Caroline with plenty of time to deal with Mary’s possessions.

She opened the door into Mary’s bedroom with some trepidation.

The last time she’d been in there, the smell of congealing blood had been overwhelming, and she’d feared she might faint.

To her relief, Mrs. Frogerton had ordered the disposal of the mattress and all the bed linen and instructed the maids to scrub the room until no trace of the tragedy remained.

It smelled strongly of lye soap, and the sun was filtering in through the open window along with the gentle roar of traffic from Piccadilly.

There was still evidence of Mary’s presence scattered around the room.

but otherwise it looked perfectly bland.

Caroline had asked the butler to bring up Mary’s bags from the basement, and they stood underneath one of the windows.

She opened the wardrobe and took out Mary’s gowns, skirts, and petticoats, placing them on the bed.

As she folded each garment, she methodically checked the pockets and the fabric for any attached pins, jewelry, or loose items. There was a small brooch in the shape of a rose attached to the collar of Mary’s favorite church dress, which Caroline unpinned and set on the dressing table, but little else.

From what Caroline knew of the family, they hadn’t been wealthy, and Mary’s belongings bore that out.

Her petticoats and gowns were darned, the hems turned, and various adornments had been added or taken away to keep the garments within the bounds of recent fashion. It appeared Mary had been an excellent and careful needlewoman.

She investigated the bottom of the wardrobe where there was a line of boots and shoes in similar condition—patched, well polished, resoled, and carefully looked after. Caroline placed everything from the cupboard onto the bed.

Mary’s possessions reminded Caroline vividly of her own.

Learning to be frugal had taught her some valuable lessons of economy, but they had been hard learned.

She’d never realized how fortunate she was until the family funds were abruptly cut off, and she was left to fend for herself, or serve others simply to survive.

Caroline shook off her thoughts and turned her attention to the chest of drawers. At the back of the underwear drawer, she found two long jewelry cases and set them aside. There was a well-thumbed bible and a prayer book with several pages marked with spills of paper.

Caroline hadn’t thought of Mary as particularly religious, but it appeared she had a strong faith.

There was also a catechism for the Roman Catholic Church, which gave Caroline pause.

Was Mr. Brigham a Roman Catholic? Mrs. Scutton had mentioned he had family in Ireland.

Had Mary agreed to accept his religion when she married him?

Caroline had a sense that it was non-negotiable.

She couldn’t imagine Mrs. Scutton being pleased about that.

To many people, popish heretics could not be trusted and were justly barred from holding office or marrying into the Royal Family.

Had Mary pretended to go along with Mr. Brigham’s demand that she renounce her faith and take on his?

Would such a deception have led her husband to decide she should no longer be allowed to live?

There was no divorce for the common man. …

From all she’d heard and seen of Mr. Brigham, he hadn’t struck her as a particularly religious man, but faith could run deep.

Caroline set Mary’s prayer books beside the jewelry cases on the dressing table.

Clearing out the drawers, she found a small bottle of rose water, a tin of red lip tint, and a glass vial filled with a clear liquid.

She had little knowledge of the practices of the Roman Catholic Church but assumed the bottle held something significant.

Mary’s cloak and coat hung on the back of the door, with her leather gloves in the pocket along with a curiously regular string of black oval beads on a circular chain.

There was no sign of her purse or any money.

Had the Brighams taken that from her before Mrs. Scutton came upon them?

Or had Mary offered them everything simply to buy her freedom?

When Inspector Ross apprehended the Brighams, she’d have to ask him to check if Mary’s purse was in their possession.

She checked the back of the drawers and under the bed, but didn’t find any correspondence, personal or otherwise.

Had Mary burned every letter or note she’d received while in London?

Caroline’s gaze went to the fireplace, but Mrs. Frogerton’s staff were too efficient to leave any evidence behind in the grate.

She could ask Ellie the housemaid if she remembered any paper being burned, but was it important?

Caroline didn’t know, and Ellie had gone away to help her mother.

It wasn’t until she packed the first bag with Mary’s boots and gowns that she realized the dress Mary had worn when she’d been murdered had been her best dress.

Caroline frowned. When she’d spoken to Mary just before dinner, she’d been wearing a brown silk and lace evening gown.

She’d told Caroline she was too tired to come down and was off to bed.

Why had Mary remained in all her finery? Caroline closed the first bag and buckled the straps. Had she been expecting someone? Had she been murdered by a man she’d deliberately invited into the house?