Page 24 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

I t was a very pleasant day for a drive out into the country-side. Caroline tried to set her misgivings aside as the crowded tenements of Stepney and Bethnal Green lining the London Road disappeared behind them and the wider vista of Hackney Marshes and beyond appeared.

“It should take us between three and four hours to get there,” Mrs. Frogerton said. She wore her new bonnet. The cherries on the brim rattled every time the carriage went over a bump. “We’ll stop and change the horses in Woodford and go on from there.”

“I seem to remember that it is a fairly straight road, ma’am,” Caroline said. “Perhaps one day we’ll be able to travel all over the country in a steam locomotive.”

Mrs. Frogerton shuddered. “I’ve been on one of those awful contraptions. The noise, the soot, and the stomach-churning speed were not to my taste. I’d told Samuel he’d never get me on one again.”

“I haven’t been on a train yet, ma’am. Dr. Harris said that he would take me, but—” Caroline paused. “I doubt that will happen now.” They hadn’t heard from him since Caroline had argued with him in the park.

“He’ll come around, lass. He always does.” Mrs. Frogerton patted her knee. “Now, do you think we should stop in Theydon Bois just in case Mr. Scutton asks any awkward questions when we return?”

“I assume you don’t have a friend in Theydon Bois.” Caroline fought to restrain a smile. “I thought you said you told no falsehoods.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell the Scuttons any lies about my intentions for Mary’s belongings, and I’m quite sure I didn’t.”

Caroline smiled. “I’m sure you’re right, ma’am.”

“I’m from the north, lass. None of my friends live in these parts.” Mrs. Frogerton winked before looking out of the window. “Luckily, Mr. Scutton doesn’t know that.”

The high street in Epping was wide, allowing the weekly market to take place. There was little activity as they passed the black-and-white thatched inns and small shops, their only obstacle a man herding a flock of geese across the street.

“The Scuttons’ house is down a lane at the end of the high street,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “Mrs. Scutton gave the coachman excellent directions.”

The carriage turned slightly to the left and went along a narrower lane until it dipped down into a hollow on the side of the hill.

There was a long, red-bricked house set back from the road with space for the carriage to pull up on the drive.

It was a very pleasant dwelling with a well-established wisteria climbing gracefully over the front door.

“I believe this might be it.” Mrs. Frogerton opened the window and looked around. “It’s an elegant house.”

“And just the sort of thing the fourth son of an earl might end up in if he’s alienated his father,” Caroline said. “It’s grand enough not to make the family look bad, but relatively easy to maintain on his restricted income.”

Mrs. Frogerton looked at Caroline. “The things you know astound me sometimes, lass. That would never have occurred to me.”

They got down, and Caroline instantly stretched out her spine. Mrs. Frogerton’s hired carriage might be very comfortable, but some of the roads they’d traveled had been less than kind.

Closer inspection revealed a well-tended thatched roof and rows of small diamond-paned windows glinting in the sun. There was a blue front door set slightly off-center at the front of the property that had an air of disuse. It wasn’t a large house, but it was very charming.

“Did you send a note to Miss Smith about our impending visit, ma’am?” Caroline asked as she straightened her skirts.

“I didn’t have time,” Mrs. Frogerton said innocently. “I wonder if there is a stable yard through that archway on the left. Shall we investigate?”

She walked through the arch, looked back at Caroline, and gestured to the coachman. “Collins can bring the carriage around once we’ve made ourselves known to our hosts.” She glanced at Caroline, who had followed her. “Shall we try the kitchen door?”

The door was slightly ajar, and the faint sound of singing came through the gap. Mrs. Frogerton knocked twice and then pushed the door open. “Hello? Is there anyone here?”

Footsteps sounded on the flagstones of the dimly lit hall, and Miss Smith came toward them, wiping her floury hands on her apron.

“Mrs. Frogerton?” Her bewildered gaze swept over Car oline. “Miss Morton. Has something happened?”

“I do apologize for this unexpected intrusion, Miss Smith,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “We were visiting a friend of mine in Theydon Bois today, and Mrs. Scutton asked if we could deliver a letter to you from her.”

“Good Lord, please forgive my manners and come through to the kitchen!” Miss Smith said. “Did you come by carriage?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Then tell your man to seek out young Basil in the stables. He’ll make sure the horses are taken care of.”

“I’ll go and speak to Collins, ma’am,” Caroline murmured to her employer and went back out into the sunlight.

When she returned, she followed her nose through to the kitchen, where Mrs. Frogerton had already established herself at the table while Miss Smith continued kneading her bread.

Miss Smith looked up briefly as Caroline came in. “I’d take you through to the parlor if I wasn’t covered in flour.”

“We’re fine as we are,” Mrs. Frogerton reassured her. “Shall I make some tea?”

“I can do that, ma’am,” Caroline offered. She preferred to be on her feet after hours in the carriage. “If Miss Smith doesn’t object.”

“Please be my guest. There’s tea in the caddy next to the kettle on the stove. It should already be hot, as I’ve been promising myself a cuppa for the last hour.”

“Are you all on your own today, Miss Smith?” Mrs. Frogerton asked.

“The kitchen maid’s gone to buy more flour from the mill, and her brother is out in the back garden picking vegetables for our dinner.

” Miss Smith pummeled the dough with the strength of a prize fighter.

“I keep meaning to ask Mrs. Scutton whether she wants to take someone on to replace Jude, but I haven’t had the heart. ”

“Perhaps Mrs. Scutton will have some directions for you in her letter,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “She was most insistent that we drop it off to you today.”

“You didn’t tell her that I came to London, did you?” Miss Smith patted the dough into a ball and set it on a tray to proof. She immediately started on another.

“No, she had already begun to write to you of her own accord,” Mrs. Frogerton assured her. “Mr. Scutton asked us to bring you the belongings Mary left in London.”

“Did he.” Miss Smith thwacked the dough hard against the tabletop, and flour flew everywhere. “I’d still like to know why he buried poor Mary in London and didn’t bring her home to lie with her kin.”

“Do you not … care for Mr. Scutton, Miss Smith?” Mrs. Frogerton asked.

“I find Thomas a very humorless man with a nasty temper,” Miss Smith said. “When he announced he’d had a calling to enter the church, I couldn’t think of a better place to put him. Now his mother has him all stirred up with ideas of an earldom, he’s suddenly not so keen on the church anymore.”

“I suspect most gentlemen would prefer to become a peer than a priest, Miss Smith,” Mrs. Frogerton remarked. “One can hardly blame him for wanting to advance in the world.”

“Jude didn’t like it at all.” Miss Smith washed her hands and set the filled teapot on the table, along with a jug of milk and some earthenware cups.

“He warned Mrs. Scutton that meddling with the past would lead to no good.” She sighed.

“It didn’t do Jude any good, did it? If he hadn’t followed Mrs. Scutton to London, he would still be alive and well. ”

“Do you think he had good reason to be concerned as to Mrs. Scutton’s decisions?” Mrs. Frogerton accepted her tea with thanks. “There must be sufficient evidence for the claim that Mr. Scutton is in line for the earldom, or the College of Arms would not bother investigating it.”

“That’s not what Mary told Jude.” Miss Smith sipped her tea. “She said she’d tried to tell Thomas to take no heed of his mother, but he wouldn’t listen to her.”

“One has to wonder what Mary thought she knew that her brother did not.” Mrs. Frogerton made a face. “Unless she was prescient enough to write her suspicions down, I suppose we’ll never know.”

“She might have said something to Albert. They were very close.” Miss Smith shook her head. “I still can’t believe he murdered her.”

“I believe Mr. Scutton was equally shocked,” Caroline said. “But Mrs. Scutton appeared to be frightened of Albert, perhaps with good cause.”

“Like most mothers, she didn’t think anyone was good enough to court her daughter,” Miss Smith said. “If you don’t mind me saying, Mrs. Scutton thought her family were a cut above the Brighams.”

“Perhaps she had cause if she knew her husband was descended from a family with an earldom,” Caroline said.

“But that wasn’t her family, was it?” Miss Smith pointed out. “It’s the Scutton side. Hetty refined her accent over the years, but when she first arrived from London, she was quite common herself.”

“Mrs. Scutton came from London?” Caroline asked.

“Yes, I believe she was in service there.”

“Then how did she come to meet Mr. Scutton?” Mrs. Frog erton asked.

“She came down with the family she worked for when they left London after the Season and met Mr. Scutton here.” Miss Smith smiled. “From what Jude told me, it was a very quick courtship, but they seemed happy enough together.”

“I suppose she needed to make up her mind quickly before she signed up for another year of employment,” Mrs. Frogerton commented. “It’s happened with my staff in the past.”

“Jude took a while to come round to her, but she always treated him with respect, and he appreciated that,” Miss Smith said. “When Mr. Scutton died so suddenly, Hetty leaned on Jude something terrible, but he didn’t mind.”