Page 15 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

T here was a knock on the door, and Caroline jumped as Mrs. Frogerton peered in at her.

“What’s wrong, lass? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I suspect sorting the possessions of someone who has been murdered is likely to encourage the worst kind of thoughts, ma’am.” Caroline folded Mary’s cloak and coat and laid them in the bottom of the second bag. “There are some puzzling anomalies.”

“Such as?” Mrs. Frogerton had moved over to the dressing table and was examining the bottles with an interested eye. “Good Lord! Why does she have this popish thing?” She held up the small glass vial. “That’s the Virgin Mary.”

“I wondered that myself, ma’am, as she also has a Roman Catholic catechism and a string of what I assume must be prayer beads.”

“A rosary? Perhaps Mr. Brigham was forcing her to convert!” Mrs. Frogerton shuddered.

“Have you seen such things before, ma’am?” Caroline asked as her employer set the vessel down. “I was wondering what the liquid is inside it.”

“What those heathens insist on calling Holy Water. It supposedly has healing powers.” Mrs. Frogerton didn’t sound convinced.

“They scoop it up in their churches where it’s blessed by the priest and bring it home to dab on themselves at the first sign of illness or trouble.

” She noticed Caroline was staring at her.

“I know all about these customs because we employ many people from Ireland in our mills and potteries.”

Caroline nodded. “Ah, that makes perfect sense. I wonder if Mr. Scutton was aware that his sister had such popish leanings.”

“He’ll certainly know when you hand over her possessions to him.”

“Do you think I should?” Caroline asked somewhat hesitantly. “Mr. Scutton once mentioned he’d been considering entering the Church of England before the matter of the earldom came up.”

Mrs. Frogerton turned to look at her. “He can’t do anything about it now, can he, lass? His sister is dead, and none of us can know her mind.”

“Yes, of course,” Caroline said. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You were thinking about protecting Mary, and there’s no shame in that.” Mrs. Frogerton’s eye was caught by the jewelry boxes. “These are very fancy.”

“I haven’t looked inside them yet, ma’am,” Caroline admitted. “I thought, perhaps …”

She needn’t have bothered, as Mrs. Frogerton was already undoing the clasp and reading the inside of the padded lid.

“Ooh! Rundell, Bridge and Company are some of the finest jewelers in London. Dotty was always going on about them having made the Lingard family tiara.” She paused. “Oh, there’s nothing in here.”

“That seems odd, ma’am,” Caroline said. “Why would she keep an empty box?”

“Perhaps she was wearing the items on the evening she died.” Mrs. Frogerton frowned. “I’m sure I would have noticed the quality of this jewelry if I’d seen her wear it.”

“We’ll have to ask Inspector Ross.” Caroline hesitated. “Although the lack of jewelry does call attention to something that was already puzzling me.”

“What is that?” Mrs. Frogerton carefully examined the inside of the satin case, but there didn’t appear to be anything hidden within.

“Her purse isn’t here either.”

“Do you think those braggards robbed her as well?” Mrs. Frogerton shook her head. “The depravity!”

“Or Mary gave them everything of value she possessed to try to persuade them to leave her alone.”

“Blackmail.”

“Possibly.” Caroline set the second empty box down on top of the first. “I’m beginning to wonder whether she invited Mr. Brigham here thinking she could persuade him to give her up in exchange for all her worldly possessions.”

“If Mary was expecting them, it might explain how those villains gained access to my house so easily,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “None of my staff are careless about their own safety, let alone mine.”

“Yes, while the staff were busy preparing dinner, Mary could’ve sneaked down the back stairs to the lower levels and left both the garden gate and the back door unlocked.

She told me she intended to go to bed, but she was dressed in her best dinner gown and was very eager for me to leave.

She didn’t seem to want her mother to visit her, either. ”

Mrs. Frogerton smoothed her fingers over the velvet-covered jewelry box. “The poor lady.”

“Yes, if she willingly invited her murderer into this house, she made a terrible mistake.”

Before Mrs. Frogerton could respond, the door opened, and Mrs. Scutton came in. She still wore her nightgown and had one of Mrs. Frogerton’s shawls wrapped around her shoulders. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders, and she looked exhausted.

“I heard voices, and for a moment I thought it had all been a terrible nightmare and my Mary had returned to me.” Mrs. Scutton swayed on her feet.

Mrs. Frogerton hastened to Mrs. Scutton’s side. “I’m so sorry we disturbed you.”

Mrs. Scutton stared at Caroline. “Why are you touching my daughter’s things?”

“Mr. Scutton asked me to pack Mary’s possessions away so that you would not have to worry about it,” Caroline said. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“What is this?” Mrs. Scutton pointed at the stack of prayer books and the glass vial.

Behind her back, Caroline and Mrs. Frogerton exchanged concerned glances.

“Perhaps you should speak to Mr. Scutton about these personal matters, ma’am?” Caroline suggested. “He asked me to bring everything to him.”

Mrs. Scutton raised her chin. “I don’t know what is wrong with the boy, burying her in haste, and now attempting to erase her very existence.” She staggered slightly, and Caroline rushed to take her arm and guide her to a chair. “It’s as if he’s trying to pretend she never lived.”

Mrs. Frogerton caught Caroline’s eye. “Why don’t you go see if Mr. Scutton has returned from his errands, Caroline, while I help Mrs. Scutton back to her room.”

“Yes, of course, ma’am.”

Caroline left the bedchamber in some haste and went in search of Mr. Scutton. Somewhat to her relief, he had just entered the hall and was removing his hat and gloves when he looked up and saw her.

His expression was inscrutable as she approached him. “Good afternoon, Lady Caroline.”

“Mr. Scutton.” She paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Your mother came upon me while I was packing Mary’s belongings and didn’t take it well.”

He sighed. “I would’ve hoped you’d be more careful.” He started up the stairs. “Is she angry with me?”

“I cannot say, sir. She just seems distressed and wishes to speak to you.” Caroline followed him. “Mrs. Frogerton is with her now.”

“Then I’ll go and see her.” He paused long enough to look back at her. “Can you at least ensure that Mary’s belongings are put in my room?”

Caroline resisted the impulse to curtsy like a parlor maid and instead nodded before he continued down the corridor to his mother’s bedchamber.

He knocked sharply on his mother’s door and went in.

Caroline expected Mrs. Frogerton to appear, but there was no sign of her, so Caroline continued into Mary’s room to gather Mary’s belongings and transfer them to Mr. Scutton’s room.

She hadn’t been in Mr. Scutton’s bedroom since he’d taken possession of it, but she wasn’t surprised to see he kept it in good order.

There was a small standing cross on the dressing table beside a common prayer book and a candle, but no other ornamentation.

His clothing was all put away, and even his hairbrush was immaculate.

Caroline set Mary’s bags beside the bed and left her more personal possessions on the coverlet. There was little else she could do to help the murdered woman, but she had great faith in Inspector Ross’s ability to bring her killers to justice.

She left Mr. Scutton’s room and paused in the corridor, listening.

There were no raised voices from Mrs. Scutton’s bedroom, which was a relief, but there was also no sign of Mrs. Frogerton.

It was possible the Scuttons were holding their fire until their hostess removed herself from their vicinity.

Caroline considered whether to knock on the door and inquire after Mrs. Frogerton but decided against it.

If anyone could extricate themselves from a difficult situation, it was her employer.

Her faith was rewarded as Mrs. Frogerton emerged from the room, closing the door firmly behind her. Then she immediately craned her neck so that her ear was as close to the door as possible.

“Mrs. Frogerton,” Caroline whispered in consternation. “What are you doing?”

Her employer held her finger to her lips, and Caroline went to stand beside her. It wasn’t long before Mrs. Scutton raised her voice and was immediately countered by her son. Unfortunately, it was still impossible to hear what they were arguing about.

“Ma’am,” Caroline said urgently. “Forgive me, but this is highly inappropriate.”

Mrs. Frogerton sighed and moved back. “I can’t hear them anyway. I should’ve gone up the back stairs.”

“For what purpose, ma’am?” Caroline asked

“Because they were dying to shout at each other and they couldn’t wait to get rid of me. I almost felt obliged to leave them to it.”

They headed down the stairs to the drawing room, and Mrs. Frogerton took her usual seat by the fire. Caroline rang for some tea and sat opposite her employer. “Was Mrs. Scutton angrier than her son?”

“Oh, no, she was upset. He was the one who was angry, and, like most men, he made little effort to conceal his true feelings.” Mrs. Frogerton allowed her favorite pug dog to sit on her knee while she talked. “In truth, he blamed you for the whole debacle.”

“Me?” Caroline sat up straight. “He asked me to pack Mary’s things.”

“He blamed you for drawing his mother’s attention to his actions. He claimed that he’d merely been attempting to mitigate her grief and that you had somehow bungled it by being too loud or something equally laughable.”

“What a …” Caroline couldn’t think of a suitable word to utter in front of her employer.