Page 31 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

A t breakfast the next morning, Caroline received a note from the jewelers, and after consulting with Mrs. Frogerton, she arranged for Mr. Spindler to call on them at eleven.

She spent the intervening hours walking Mrs. Frogerton’s dogs to the receiving office and posting her employer’s letters.

There was no sign of Dr. Harris in the park, and Caroline wondered, not for the first time, when he would deign to visit them again.

It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear when his workload overwhelmed him, but he usually sent a note to reassure Mrs. Frogerton as to his health and whereabouts.

He hadn’t even told them if he’d been offered the new position at the Royal Free Hospital.

Caroline was fairly certain that his absence was directly related to their last meeting when he’d asked for reassurances Caroline was unable to give to him.

Should she write him a note herself? The thought was appealing, but what could she say?

It wasn’t as if she’d turned down his proposal of marriage or said anything to make him think she expected one.

There were well-honed responses for such scenarios that Caroline had learned at her mother’s knee.

And she wasn’t sure what she should be apologizing for when he’d been the one to take offense.

Perhaps a simple note telling him that she’d heard from Susan might suffice. She spent the remainder of her journey mentally composing such a letter in her head and still couldn’t quite get the tone right.

Clouds were gathering as Caroline turned into Half Moon Street. She hurried the dogs straight down to the basement as the first few raindrops fell. She walked through into the kitchen, left her muddy boots, gave the dogs to one of the housemaids, and went upstairs to the drawing room.

Mrs. Scutton was sitting with Mrs. Frogerton, which was something of a surprise, and Caroline wished them both a good morning.

“Were the dogs well behaved?” Mrs. Frogerton asked.

“They were very good. I only had to carry Pug from the park exit to the house.”

“He is rather precious,” Mrs. Frogerton said fondly. “And not as sprightly as he used to be. I think all these stairs in this town house have worn him out.”

Caroline glanced at the clock. “Shall I order tea, ma’am, or shall we wait until our visitor arrives?”

“Let’s wait,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “I don’t think this business will take very long.” She turned to Mrs. Scutton. “I have just been reassuring our guest that George Brigham will not be allowed in this house and that when she goes out, someone will accompany her at all times.”

“I’m sure that is very heartening,” Caroline said.

Mrs. Scutton made a face. “I don’t understand why Inspector Ross might allow George to leave without being charged with anything.”

“Perhaps the inspector feels he has a strong case against Mr. Albert Brigham and doesn’t need the brother,” Mrs. Frog erton suggested. “In fact, it might be seen as a positive.”

Mrs. Scutton didn’t look convinced, and the conversation came to an end.

Just as the mantelpiece clock struck eleven times, Mr. Spindler came in behind the parlor maid and bowed deeply. From the dampness of his clothes and the mud on his boots, it appeared that he had walked all the way from Lud gate Hill.

“Good morning, Lady Caroline, ladies. I am delighted to tell you that I have your jewelry all restored.”

“That is excellent news, Mr. Spindler,” Caroline said as she gestured him to a seat.

He patted his pockets, took out a small jewelry box, and handed it to Caroline.

“Voilà! I took the liberty of reshaping the catch and adding just enough new gold to strengthen the whole piece.” He beamed at Caroline.

“I do hope you have the rest of the earring. I believe it was one of your mother’s favorites. ”

Caroline didn’t dare look at either Mrs. Frogerton or Mrs. Scutton. “To be honest, sir, I wasn’t sure what it was. I found it entangled in an old shawl.”

“Then it is a pleasure to restore it to its rightful state, and I hope it will soon be reunited with the emerald and diamond drops it belongs with.”

Mrs. Frogerton cleared her throat. “I’m impressed that you knew exactly which piece of jewelry that mangled heap of metal came from.”

“It all comes down to experience, ma’am,” Mr. Spindler said. “And the very specific marks we use for our favored clients, which make it remarkably easy to identify every piece.”

“How clever,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “Please send us your bill, Mr. Spindler, and we will pay it directly.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” He rose to his feet. “And now I must be off. We have to vacate our premises by the end of the week.”

“That is most unfortunate, sir,” Mrs. Frogerton said.

“ That is due to gross mismanagement by my predecessors, ma’am, and those who should know better not paying their bills.” Mr. Spindler bowed. “A pleasure to serve you again, Lady Caroline.”

“Thank you, Mr. Spindler.” Caroline stood as well, but he waved her back to her seat.

“No need to accompany me, my lady. I’ll see myself out.”

Caroline took the opportunity to ring the bell for tea and then resumed her seat.

“Well,” said Mrs. Scutton. “What was all that about?”

Mrs. Frogerton opened her mouth, but for once, Caroline got in first. “As I mentioned to Mr. Spindler, ma’am, I found the back of an earring entangled in one of my mother’s old shawls and took it to Rundell’s to see if they could identify it for me.”

“Why would you bother about something so small?”

“I suppose it’s because the item belonged to my mother, and I have very little left of her,” Caroline said. She opened the box and passed it over to Mrs. Scutton.

“If it is a Morton piece of jewelry, surely it belongs to the estate and not you?” Mrs. Scutton asked after viewing the small gold trinket with some disfavor.

“That’s a very good question.” Caroline smiled at her. “And a complicated one. Some of my mother’s jewelry came with her from her own family and was meant for her daughters. Other pieces were Morton heirlooms, and some were bought for her by my father.”

Caroline turned to Mrs. Frogerton. “I wonder if Coutts kept any of the Morton jewelry when they purchased the estate? It might be worth asking them.”

“Mrs. Scutton?” Mrs. Frogerton looked at her guest. “Are you aware of any jewelry being held in trust for the Morton estate?”

“You’d have to ask Mr. Castle,” Mrs. Scutton said. “But if this earring back does belong to something in their possession, then it should be restored to its rightful place.”

“I quite agree,” Caroline said. “There’s no point in me keeping it purely for sentimental reasons.”

“That’s very sensible of you, my dear.” Mrs. Scutton smiled approvingly at her. “I’ll write to Coutts and find out what they have in the vault.” She left the room intent on her task.

Mrs. Frogerton looked at Caroline. “That was very quick thinking on your part, lass.”

“I prefer not to tell falsehoods, but I had to think of something, and Mr. Spindler’s assumptions gave me an obvious avenue to explore.” Caroline frowned. “How on earth did a piece of jewelry once owned by my mother end up in the fireplace in Mary Brigham’s bedchamber?”

“It is quite extraordinary,” Mrs. Frogerton acknowledged. “Even if Albert did buy the jewelry secondhand, the chances of him purchasing pieces from the Morton estate are extremely unlikely.”

“Extremely,” Caroline agreed.

“Which brings us back to Mr. Scutton.” Mrs. Frogerton looked at Caroline expectantly. “What if Mr. Castle from Coutts gave Mr. Scutton access to the Morton assets, and he used them to help Albert?”

“But Mr. Scutton didn’t know Mr. Castle when Albert was first imprisoned for his debts,” Caroline objected.

“Yes, but Mr. Scutton did say that he suddenly had enough spare capital to help his brother-in-law. Perhaps he used all his savings to assist Albert and borrowed against his expectations of becoming an earl on the assumption that Mr. Castle would give him access to the Morton money?”

“That’s …” Reluctant to jump ahead to Mrs. Frogerton’s somewhat fanciful conclusions, Caroline considered what they knew. “The Scutton family are connected to the Mortons. Perhaps the jewelry was already in their family, and Mary brought it with her to London.”

Mrs. Frogerton raised her eyebrows. “Your mother’s jewelry?”

“Mr. Spindler might have mistaken the mark.”

“But even if the jewelry did come with Mary, how is it that her own mother and brother didn’t recognize it?”

“Perhaps they pretended not to?”

“For what purpose?”

Caroline sat down. “Now you sound like me, ma’am.”

“I just don’t understand how this has happened,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “But my instincts are telling me that Mr. Scutton is involved somehow. Do you remember how the jewelry cases disappeared when they were left in his bedchamber with Mary’s other belongings?”

“Perhaps we should simply ask Mr. Scutton what happened to them,” Caroline said. “He is already out of charity with me, so nothing I could say would make anything worse.”

“Are you quite sure about that, lass? The man has a temper on him.”

“I doubt he’ll attempt to murder me right in front of you,” Caroline said.

“Of course he won’t, but he’ll find a way to dispose of you regardless.” Mrs. Frogerton looked worried. “Perhaps we should just let the matter drop.”

“Now you are alarming me, ma’am. You are normally the person forging ahead intent on discovering everything,” Caroline said. “And I’m still not convinced Mr. Scutton is involved in any of this.”

Mrs. Frogerton pressed her hand to her bosom. “I can’t tell you why I believe that he is, Caroline, but I feel it in my bones. Madam Lavinia did say I was a very spiritual person.”

The butler came in with a note that he handed to Mrs. Frogerton. “From Inspector Ross, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Frogerton opened the note and read it through before passing it to Caroline. “It seems Mrs. Scutton was correct. Mr. George Brigham has been released on bail. I wonder who stood surety for that?”