Page 40 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

“We also have a record of his death and burial.” Mr. Bowen turned to a different page and placed a finger under a line written in cramped script. “Now, as to his marriage …” He looked up after a while. “How odd. I cannot find it either.”

Mrs. Frogerton cleared her throat. “Is it possible that Mr. Scutton senior was affiliated with a different faith?”

“Even if he was a Quaker or a Methodist, the law clearly states that the only marriage recognized in England is one performed and recorded by the Church of England.” Mr. Bowen paused.

“Unless such a marriage is performed in another country where such alliances are legal, and then that marriage is valid here—with the correct paperwork.”

“Thank you for explaining,” Caroline said. “Do you often have to marry couples who are aligned to a different faith, vicar?”

“It is more common these days, but back then, it could prove very difficult.” Mr. Bowen grimaced.

“It’s possible that even if a couple did wish to formalize their marriage in this church, a vicar might refuse if he believed they were just doing it to comply with the law.

” He reached for the pile of books. “If you will permit me, all of my predecessors kept daily journals. Someone might have mentioned this matter in their private notes.” He studied the spines and picked out the one within the relevant time span.

“Mr. Brockle was the incumbent during that time.”

“I assume the marriage should’ve taken place around 1809 or 1810,” Caroline said.

“Thank you, that narrows it down a bit.” Mr. Bowen said. “Some of these gentlemen were quite prolific writers.”

Luckily, Mr. Bowen proved to be a fast reader who could scan the pages quickly.

“Ah, here’s something.” He started to read out loud.

“ Saw William Morton Scutton this morning. He asked about marriage rites. I laughed in his face, and he took umbrage. He said he had the money to pay for a wedding and that I’d be a fool not to do my duty, as the Morton family wouldn’t appreciate it.

I told him that I answered only to God Almighty and that his sinful and popish ways were known to me .

” He paused and began reading again. “Visit from the old Earl of Morton himself! Threatened me with dismissal if I didn’t perform the marriage.

I told him he would burn in hell. He left in a rage, and I prayed for his soul. ”

Mr. Bowen closed the book. “There doesn’t appear to be any more information. One has to wonder if the Earl took a hand in their affairs and helped them marry in London.”

“It does seem likely,” Caroline said. She wrote a few more notes and turned to Mrs. Frogerton. “I think we should be going, ma’am. We still have several visits to make.”

“Indeed, we do.”

Caroline rose to her feet and offered Mr. Bowen her hand. “Thank you for all your help. This has been most informative.”

“It’s been a pleasure, my lady. Let me fetch my wife so that she can say her goodbyes.”

Mr. Bowen raced toward the back of the house while Caroline and Mrs. Frogerton awaited him in the hall.

“I suppose we’ll have to visit that Bois lady, now,” Mrs. Frogerton whispered to Caroline. “Or be thought liars.”

“I think we will.”

“ Do you know her?”

“Yes, of course.” Caroline raised her eyebrows. “I believe she was one of my father’s godparents.”

“Naturally.” Mrs. Frogerton said. “How silly of me.”

Ten minutes later they were sitting in Miss Smith’s pleasant kitchen having another cup of tea along with a slab of ham, piccalilli, and a slice of bread.

“What brings you here again?” Miss Smith asked as she joined them at the table. “More letters from Mrs. Scutton?”

“We’re visiting Lady Hilda in Theydon Bois and thought we’d pop in,” Caroline said. “Lady Hilda isn’t well.”

“She’s as batty as a windmill,” Miss Smith said frankly. “But she does no harm to anyone.” She sipped her tea. “Any news from London?”

“They’ve let George Brigham out on bail and charged Albert with murder,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “A witness came forward to confirm that the Brighams were at the house on the fateful night.”

“What a terrible shame.” Miss Smith sighed. “And I thought young Albert was a good ’un.”

“Did Mary ever mention if Albert had been married before?” Mrs. Frogerton asked.

“I don’t think so.” Miss Smith cut into her ham. “Why? Does it matter in some way?”

“Not particularly,” Caroline hastened to reassure her.

“One does hear of these papists having wives in Ireland and then coming over here and marrying again with the rites of the Church of England.” Mrs. Frogerton was obviously oblivious to offending Miss Smith’s feelings.

“In my opinion, people should be allowed to marry in a place of worship of their choosing,” Miss Smith declared. “It’s ridiculous that they have to pay a fee to be married in a church they don’t support simply to avoid having their marriage declared illegal.”

“Isn’t that what happened when Mr. Scutton tried to marry?” Caroline asked. “I seem to remember some family story about the previous earl having to intervene.”

“I wasn’t very old when all that was happening, miss, but Jude did tell me there was something of a kerfuffle,” Miss Smith said. “Hetty insisted they marry according to the rights of their religion first and then approach the vicar for the service in the church.”

Mrs. Frogerton chewed slowly as she nodded. “And did the vicar oblige?”

“No, he didn’t. The earl was most displeased.”

“So I should imagine,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “But with his power and associates, he was probably able to get them married somewhere else.”

“I believe that’s exactly what he did.” Miss Smith poured them all more tea. “Jude did say that William was very anxious to be wed because—” She paused. “Some things just won’t wait, will they?”

“Was Hetty expecting?” Mrs. Frogerton asked.

“I won’t say that she was, because she’d be furious that I knew, but that’s what William told Jude.” Miss Smith gave them a sharp look. “Mind that bit of gossip doesn’t get back to Hetty, now.”

“We will never mention it in her hearing,” Mrs. Frogerton promised. “Now, how is everything here? Has Mrs. Scutton decided whether she’s selling up or not?”

Several hours later, after a detour to Theydon Bois and a half an hour call on the absolutely eccentric Lady Hilda, Caroline and Mrs. Frogerton were on their way back to London.

Caroline hadn’t said much, her mind busy untangling what they’d learned, and whether any of it had any implications for Mary’s murder.

“Mr. Scutton,” Caroline said.

Mrs. Frogerton sat up straight. “Which one?”

“Thomas. He’s the one with the most to lose if this matter becomes public.”

“Doesn’t that depend on the date of his parents’ marriage? From what I understand, if he’s born after the marriage occurs, he’s legitimate, regardless of his religion.”

“But we don’t know if his parents were properly married in the Church of England,” Caroline pointed out. “And if Mrs. Scutton was pregnant, the need for the marriage to take place quickly was paramount.”

“That’s another thing …” Mrs. Frogerton said. “If Hetty only met Mr. Scutton when she came down from London for the summer, how did he get her pregnant in the first place?”

“We don’t know how long she was in Epping before he married her,” Caroline said. “And we don’t know if Mr. Scutton visited her in London. As a connection of the Morton family, he might well have stayed at Morton House when he came up to town.”

“It’s not uncommon for women to be preyed upon by their betters,” Mrs. Frogerton said.

“Although from all accounts, it was a happy marriage.” She sighed.

“How on earth are we supposed to find out whether a church in London married the Scuttons in time for their son to be legitimate? There must be hundreds of them.”

“But very few enjoyed the patronage of the Earl of Morton and would be willing to do his bidding, ma’am.”

“That’s true! Do you think there might be something about it in those family records Mr. Castle lent you, Caroline?” Mrs. Frogerton asked eagerly. “That would be most helpful.”

“I’ll look when we get back,” Caroline assured her employer. “Although what all of this has to do with solving Mary’s murder, I don’t know.”

“Simply put, if Thomas Scutton’s parents weren’t legally married by the Church of England, Thomas is illegitimate and cannot claim the title.”

“Again, surely the College of Arms would have checked all this before proceeding further?” Caroline asked. “They’d need to see a direct line back to the Morton family.”

“Perhaps Mr. William Scutton forged a wedding certificate,” Mrs. Frogerton suggested.

“Or Thomas did, or we’re completely wrong, and there was a legitimate marriage performed in a church before Thomas was born.”

“But if that was the case, Caroline, why have Jude and Mary been murdered?” Mrs. Frogerton sat back.

“Because they both knew too much, that’s why.

The way I see it, Mr. Scutton was worried that his lack of legitimacy would prevent him from gaining the earldom, so he decided to ally with the Brighams to make sure Mary and Jude were never given the opportunity to speak out. ”

“That makes him sound remarkably heartless, ma’am.”

“He stands to gain an earldom, lass. That is a powerful position to hold in this country.”

“Even an earldom riddled with debt?”

“Yes, even that,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “And, if Mr. Scutton succeeds in marrying you and takes control of your South African interests, he could become a very rich man indeed.”

“There is no indication that those interests will mature financially,” Caroline demurred.

“Mr. Lewis thinks they will, and even if there is nothing in those mines, the DeBeer company is willing to pay you for the land, regardless. I don’t think that will be mere pennies.”

Caroline sighed. “This is all speculation, ma’am. In truth, we still have nothing but theories.”

“Then we’ll have to make them into facts,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “We can’t rely on Inspector Ross to help us at this point, so we’ll have to do it ourselves.”