Page 26 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

“Thank you.” Miss Smith stood, picked up a loaf of bread, and wrapped it in a cloth. “Please take this with you. I’ve baked far too much again.”

Mrs. Frogerton took the proffered loaf with some alacrity and tucked it under her arm. “How delightful! I’m not sure this bread will make it back to London in one piece, but I will do my best.”

Miss Smith saw them out the door, and they climbed into the carriage again. It wasn’t until they’d meandered through Epping and into the forest beyond that Mrs. Frogerton glanced over at Caroline and asked, “What did you think of Miss Smith’s account of things?”

“I thought she was surprisingly open with two women she barely knew, but you do have a way of getting people to confide in you, ma’am.”

“She was also quite lonely,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “And, I think, worried about what had befallen her brother and Mary. She probably appreciated having someone to share her concerns with.”

“It was interesting that she believed Mary changed after she married Mr. Brigham,” Caroline commented. “Mrs. Scutton said the same thing.”

“It certainly doesn’t show Albert Brigham in a good light,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “Perhaps he married her because of her brother’s prospects and didn’t want her trying to undermine them.”

“I suppose that’s possible,” Caroline said thoughtfully.

“You sound doubtful, lass.”

“It just doesn’t make much sense to me,” Caroline said. “From all accounts, Mary adored Albert, and I’m fairly certain she would’ve done anything he asked of her without the need of threats.”

“Perhaps you’re looking at this from the wrong perspective,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “What if Mary’s desire to hurt her mother overrode everything else?”

“I suppose the drive to claim the earldom did come from Mrs. Scutton,” Caroline agreed. “If Mary wanted to destroy her mother’s ambitions, she certainly believed she had the ammunition to do so.”

Mrs. Frogerton eased back into the corner of the carriage as the road got bumpier. “There is another person to consider in all this.”

“Are you speaking of Jude?” Caroline asked. “If Miss Smith was correct, and Mary confided in him, he probably knew far more than we assumed about the Scutton family.”

Mrs. Frogerton nodded. “And perhaps he died for that. In truth, I was thinking of someone else.”

“Who, ma’am?”

“Mr. Scutton, of course.” Mrs. Frogerton folded her hands in her lap.

“What does he have to do with this matter?”

“We know who murdered Mary, but who really stands to win the most, Caroline?” Mrs. Frogerton raised her eyebrows. “Mr. Scutton. Have you noted his connections to Jude and the Brighams?”

“You might need to explain more, ma’am.”

“He admitted going to the Blue Boar to see Jude even after his mother had clearly dealt with the matter, and he paid off Albert’s debts.”

“Are you suggesting he is somehow involved in his own sister’s death?”

Mrs. Frogerton shrugged. “I’m just speculating, lass. He’s the one who has the most to lose if Mary tells everyone his claim to the earldom is false.”

“You’re suggesting he might have used the Brigham brothers to do his dirty work for him,” Caroline said slowly. “I can’t quite believe that, ma’am. He doesn’t seem the type, and he clearly cared for his sister.”

“Then perhaps he thought releasing Mr. Brigham would encourage him to take Mary away and thus keep his secrets safe.”

“That sounds far more like him,” Caroline said.

“And maybe everything that happened after that wasn’t meant to happen, but it was too late to stop it.”

Caroline considered her employer. “Mr. Scutton certainly wasn’t pleased when Mr. Brigham turned up at your house.”

“He wasn’t happy at all, was he?” Mrs. Frogerton agreed.

“I don’t think he mentioned the jewelry boxes I found amongst Mary’s things to his mother, either,” Caroline said. “She seemed quite surprised when I told Inspector Ross about them.”

“She did, didn’t she?” Mrs. Frogerton concealed a yawn behind her hand. “Let’s try to make sure that one of us is in the room when she opens that letter from Mary and hope that she is in a confidential mood.”

“I doubt Mrs. Scutton would confide in either of us. She is quite reserved.” Caroline took a book out of her reticule and settled down to read.

“I was quite surprised to hear that Mrs. Scutton came from London.”

“Yes, that was odd, wasn’t it? She made it seem as if she’d spent most of her life in Epping. Perhaps she is a little self-conscious about her roots, ma’am.”

“One would assume so, seeing as her son might be about to become an earl.” Mrs. Frogerton yawned again. “There is much to think on. I intend to close my eyes for a while and consider this matter. Please wake me up when we reach Woodford.”

“Yes, of course, ma’am.”

Mrs. Frogerton subsided gracefully into her corner, and within a few moments, a tiny snore escaped her.

Even though Caroline was tired, she found it impossible to close her eyes.

Mrs. Frogerton’s comments about Mr. Scutton had unsettled her greatly.

It was true that Mr. Scutton had much to gain if he won the earldom, but was he ruthless enough to permanently silence his sister’s misgivings about the situation?

He seemed far more obsessed with doing the right thing and lecturing others on their behavior than plotting cold-blooded murder.

But maybe behind that austere mask lurked a man that she didn’t really know at all. Miss Smith disliked him and said he had a temper. Caroline shivered and resolved to be far more careful in her dealings with Mr. Scutton in the future.