Page 3 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

W hen the doorbell rang, Caroline glanced over at Mrs. Frogerton before smoothing down the skirts of her second-best gown and rising to her feet.

It had taken over a week to find a suitable day for the potential earl’s visit.

Caroline had studied the meager information Mr. Potkins had given her and drawn up a list of questions with Mrs. Frogerton’s assistance.

Jenkins, the butler appeared at the door with Mr. Potkins at his elbow. “Your guests, madam.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Frogerton stood and nodded at the solicitor. “Mr. Potkins.”

Caroline’s gaze had already shifted to the group behind him hovering uncertainly by the door.

Mr. Potkins bowed. “Lady Caroline, Mrs. Frogerton, may I present Mr. Thomas Scutton, his mother Mrs. Scutton, and his sister Mrs. Mary Brigham.”

Mrs. Frogerton went forward, her hand outstretched. “You are all most welcome.”

Caroline followed her employer, her gaze fixed on Mr. Scutton’s face. He was tall and dark with a pale complexion and had a certain impatient air about him that reminded her of every peer she’d ever known.

She went to speak to him, only to have her hand grasped by his mother. “Lady Caroline! My, you have grown!”

She reluctantly turned to the older woman who was smiling at her. “Have we met, ma’am?”

Mrs. Scutton chuckled. She was a short, round woman with a lively expression, brown hair and vivid blue eyes. Her green day dress wasn’t fashionable, but was respectable, as was her daughter’s. “You wouldn’t remember, dear, you were very young at the time, but there’s no mistaking you.”

“I must admit, I don’t recall having met you before, ma’am. Was it in London?” Caroline asked.

“No,” Mrs. Scutton said. “You and your mother were at Morton Hall. There was some kind of celebration—an anniversary, perhaps? And everyone was invited to attend. You were only two or three at the time. You can’t possibly remember me.”

Caroline eased her hand free and turned to Mrs. Brigham, who showed none of her mother’s good humor in her expression. She was tall like her brother, and had dark hair and blue eyes like her mother. She wore unrelieved black and looked quite miserable.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Caroline said.

Mrs. Brigham tentatively offered her hand. “Likewise.”

“Oh, don’t mind Mary’s glum face,” Mrs. Scutton said. “She suffered a bereavement and is still in mourning.”

“I’m sorry to hear that and offer you my condolences,” Caroline addressed Mrs. Brigham.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Brigham murmured after a hard look at her mother. “I miss my husband every day, and I cannot wait until we are reunited.”

Finally, Caroline turned to Mr. Scutton. He looked steadily down at her, his long nose and brown eyes, reminding Caroline of many of the family portraits in her old home.

“Mr. Scutton.”

“Lady Caroline.” His voice was pleasantly modulated without a hint of an accent. He wore a plain dark coat, white cravat, and black waistcoat, which gave him a clerical air. “Thank you for agreeing to see us.”

“You must thank Mr. Potkins and Mrs. Frogerton for organizing matters,” Caroline said as she gestured for the guests to sit down. “I’m not sure if Mr. Potkins mentioned Morton House isn’t fit to receive visitors.”

“He did mention it.” Mr. Scutton looked at the solicitor. “From what I understand, the affairs of the earldom are in some disarray.”

“One might say that.” Mrs. Frogerton turned her snort into a cough and rang the bell for tea.

“My father wasn’t very good with money,” Caroline said. “He left a lot of debt behind.”

“So we understand.” Mrs. Scutton took up the conversation. “In truth, we thought long and hard before deciding to advance our claim, but it didn’t seem right to deny Thomas his birthright.” She smiled fondly at her son, but he didn’t smile in return.

For the first time, Caroline wondered if the push to revive the earldom came solely from Mrs. Scutton.

“Where do you live currently, Mrs. Scutton?” Mrs. Frogerton asked.

“We’re very comfortably situated in Epping in Essex. Mr. Scutton owns a fine house there.”

“Ah! By the forest. A lovely area,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “Caroline and I drove out there to see the autumn leaves last year. It was quite spectacular.”

“It is very pleasant.” Mrs. Scutton nodded. “And with the frequency of the mail coaches, we are able to get to London in relatively good time.”

From the modesty of their clothing, Caroline had guessed the family weren’t wealthy enough to own their own carriage and horses.

Claiming the title would offer them a steep rise in social standing even if the earldom was currently in disorder.

Caroline could quite understand why Mrs. Scutton had decided to proceed.

“What prompted you to contact Mr. Potkins, Mrs. Scutton?” Caroline asked.

“It was quite by chance, I assure you.” Mrs. Scutton smiled as she settled her skirts around her.

“I was packing up the Christmas china with old newspaper Thomas had thoughtfully provided for me, and the name Morton jumped out from the obituary section.” She glanced at her son, and he nodded.

“I must confess that I forgot all about the china and read through the article. I knew, of course, that Mr. Scutton’s family had some connection with the Morton name, but it was distant enough for me not to have concerned myself greatly about it. ”

“But, with respect, ma’am, didn’t you just say you attended a family function at Morton Hall where you met me?” Caroline asked.

Mrs. Scutton’s smile didn’t falter. “Yes, that’s correct, but at the time I had little reason to suspect quite how closely we were related to your family, dear. My husband, William, was very reluctant to speak of it, and I respected his choice,”

“The earl died several years ago, Mrs. Scutton,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “One might wonder why you waited so long to make your claim.”

“Because it seemed unlikely to succeed, and I suspected my husband would have objected to my getting involved.” Mrs. Scutton said frankly.

“After William’s death, I decided to keep myself informed about the search for the heir, and finally decided, when no one had been announced, that Thomas should make his claim. ”

“And how did you feel about that, Mr. Scutton?” Mrs. Frogerton looked at him. “Were you behind your mother’s efforts on your behalf, or did you think them unlikely to succeed?”

“To be honest, at first I thought she was delusional,” Mr. Scutton said. “But once she explained the familial connections, I began to believe she might be correct, and offered no objection to her writing to Mr. Potkins.”

Mrs. Frogerton smiled. “How lucky you are to have such a devoted mother,”

“Yes.” Mr. Scutton didn’t smile back. “Very.”

Jenkins, the butler, and the parlor maid came in with a tray of beverages and several plates of cakes.

Neither Mrs. Scutton nor her son seemed intimidated by their current surroundings and, in Caroline’s opinion, they appeared to be exhibiting an appropriate combination of interest in the earldom and slight disbelief that it could actually belong to their branch of the family.

The only discordant note was Mrs. Brigham, who had contributed nothing to the conversation and seemed disinclined to try.

“Were you pleased to discover your brother might be in line for an earldom?” Caroline asked Mrs. Brigham as she handed her a cup of tea.

“Not particularly.” Mrs. Brigham set the cup down beside her. “It all seems somewhat far-fetched to me.”

Mrs. Scutton reached over to pat her daughter’s hand before turning to Caroline. “Please don’t concern yourself with my daughter’s lack of grace. I fear she is somewhat jealous of her brother’s good fortune.”

“That isn’t true, Mama, I simply—”

Mrs. Scutton spoke over her. “Please, my dear, do not embarrass us in such exalted company. Surely you wish the best for your brother?”

“Thomas doesn’t want this, either. It’s all you.”

“I beg to differ.” Mrs. Scutton smiled sympathetically at her daughter. “You know quite well that if Thomas didn’t want to be here, he wouldn’t have come.”

“That’s only because you’ve turned his head with your nonsense.”

Mr. Scutton gently cleared his throat. “My dear Mary, I am here because I believe in justice. If the earldom is my destiny, then I will have to accept it.”

Mrs. Brigham rolled her eyes and turned her attention to her plate.

Mrs. Frogerton held up the teapot. “Would anyone care for more tea? I’m sure Caroline has a thousand questions she’d like to ask before you leave.”

“There is no great hurry, Mrs. Frogerton.” Mr. Potkins looked apologetic. “The Scuttons will be staying in London for several days. They originally thought they would reside in Morton House, but that isn’t possible. My clerk is currently trying to find them an acceptable lodging house.”

“There’s no need for that,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “They are more than welcome to stay here.”

Everyone looked at their hostess with varying degrees of surprise.

Mrs. Frogerton raised her eyebrows. “It is the simplest solution. Caroline can become acquainted with her relatives, and I always enjoy having a houseful of guests.” She smiled at Mrs. Scutton. “Do say you accept.”

After a quick shared glance with her son, Mrs. Scutton nodded. “That would be immensely kind of you, Mrs. Frogerton. I agree that Lady Caroline needs time to get to know her recently discovered cousins. This arrangement will facilitate that nicely.”

“Then it’s all settled.” Mrs. Frogerton beamed at her new guests. “Caroline, will you ask the housekeeper to prepare the rooms? And please tell Cook there’ll be six of us for lunch and five at dinner.”

“Yes, of course.” Caroline rose to her feet. “I’ll do that right away.” She relayed the information to the household staff and quickly returned to the drawing room.

Mr. Scutton approached her before she could resume her seat. “I do hope you approve of these arrangements, Lady Caroline.”

“Mrs. Frogerton has a most generous nature, sir.”