Page 44 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

Dr. Harris pointed upward, and Caroline nodded.

They went up another level via the back stairs and paused again.

Caroline cautiously opened the door and stepped out into the corridor.

There were two main apartments on this level—the drawing room, which looked over the square and where guests of stature were received, and the countess’s suite that occupied the rear of the floor.

Caroline tried to breathe slowly as she strained to hear voices. She was about to move on when Dr. Harris grabbed her hand and squeezed it hard. He gestured toward the countess’s apartment and mouthed, “In there?”

There was a faint murmur of sound from behind the closed doors.

She considered how they might approach the suite of rooms without being spotted.

There were two sets of servants’ stairs in the house—one at the front and one at the back.

The safest route would be to go back down a level, cross to the other side of the house, and go back up again, which would bring them directly into the countess’s dressing room.

But if Mrs. Frogerton had been discovered searching for the marriage certificate, the most obvious place for it to be secured was the dressing room among Mrs. Scutton’s personal effects.

Caroline didn’t wish to walk in on any conversation that was being held there.

She headed back to the drawing room, pausing only to make sure Mrs. Scutton wasn’t in residence.

Dr. Harris poked her in the arm, and she turned to face him. He raised his eyebrows and pointed back the way they’d come.

Caroline walked to the interior wall, slid her fingers beneath the wainscoting, and released the catch that opened the secret door. Behind her, Dr. Harris muttered an expletive as the door swung open to reveal its secrets.

She stepped into the gloomy interior, placed her hand on the wall, and let her memory guide her along the passage-way to the other end, Dr. Harris close behind her.

The voices were louder now, and Caroline pressed her finger to her lips to remind Dr. Harris to keep quiet.

She could hear Mrs. Frogerton very clearly and guessed she might be standing near the wall where the concealed panel was located.

“I will ask you again, ma’am,” Mrs. Scutton said.

“What are you doing in my bedchamber? You have wasted quite enough of my time. And please do not repeat your previous excuses, which include having lost your way, to have suddenly felt faint and needed somewhere to lie down, and your latest attempt that you were seeking the necessary.”

“Well, in truth, Mrs. Scutton, I was worried about you,” Mrs. Frogerton said.

“By what right do you have to be concerned for me at all?” Mrs. Scutton demanded. “We are not related.”

“Yet I have cared for you in my own home and thus feel some kind of obligation to you,” Mrs. Frogerton continued. “And the actions of your son have caused me to fear for your safety.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Thomas is an excellent son. Just because he has taken a dislike to your paid companion doesn’t mean you have the right to come to her defense and malign him.”

“I’m not worried about that, ma’am,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “Caroline is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”

Dr. Harris nudged Caroline in the ribs, but she ignored him.

“Then what is it?” Mrs. Scutton sounded impatient. “Mrs. Frogerton, you pride yourself on speaking plainly, and yet you have still not come up with a single reason why you sneaked into my dressing room while I was taking the tea tray down to the kitchen.”

“I saw Mr. Scutton with George Brigham.”

There was a sudden silence, and Caroline held her breath.

“ What did you say?”

“You heard me,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “Now, if that doesn’t worry you, then I don’t know what will. Why would your son be speaking to one of the Brighams?”

“This is yet another lie,” Mrs. Scutton snapped.

“Perhaps you should ask him. I would be happy to do it for you, but questioning Mr. Scutton tends to lead to the end of one’s life.”

“You are being ridiculous.”

“Jude died after being seen with your son. Mary died after claiming to know your family secrets. Who will be next? George Brigham? Or once you have served your purpose and made him the earl, will he turn on you?”

“Thomas will be the next Earl of Morton.”

There was a note of conviction in Mrs. Scutton’s voice that made Caroline tense. Dr. Harris put a hand on her shoulder and leaned close, his breath feathering her ear. “Should I attempt to create a diversion and ring the front doorbell?” he whispered.

Caroline nodded, and he turned and retraced his steps.

“But should he be the next earl?” Mrs. Frogerton asked. “If he has—”

“He has done nothing wrong! It is his birthright.”

“Surely not, if he’s willing to kill to conceal evidence that he is not the earl.”

“What evidence?” Mrs. Scutton laughed. “Is that what you are doing here, Mrs. Frogerton? Looking for clues to use against my son? You’ll find nothing here to aid you.”

“I would hope that if my son conspired to murder his own sister, someone would try to prevent him from gaining advancement from it,” Mrs. Frogerton said in a steady voice.

“I can see that I was mistaken. I thought to give you the opportunity to speak to Mr. Scutton and ask him for the truth, but I shouldn’t have bothered. ”

Her voice grew slightly fainter, as if she was moving toward the opposite door. “As you said, this matter has nothing to do with me. I’ll leave you to think it over and decide what you wish to do about it.”

A door slammed, making Caroline jump.

“You’re not going anywhere, Mrs. Frogerton,” Mrs. Scutton said. “Do you really think you can traipse in here, hurl a ball of nonsensical suspicions at my son, and simply walk away? I know your sort. You’ll be blabbing to Inspector Ross as soon as you leave.”

“I have nothing to tell Inspector Ross,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “That is for you to do, unless you can forget that your son was a willing co-conspirator in the murder of his sister.”

“Half-sister.”

“I beg your pardon?” Mrs. Frogerton said.

“Mary is Thomas’s half-sister.”

“And that makes his crime more acceptable to you?”

“Perhaps. And while I have you trapped, I’d like to know what you were looking for.”

Mrs. Frogerton gasped.

Caroline eased the mechanism that operated the panel forward and opened the door a minute fraction so that she could see out. Mrs. Scutton had her back to Caroline, and Mrs. Frogerton was against the door. A glint of light hit the side of the blade Mrs. Scutton had in her raised right hand.

“If you tell me what you were looking for, I might let you live,” Mrs. Scutton said in a conversational voice.

“We both know that you will not.”

“Then let me guess what you were after.” Mrs. Scutton paused. “This weapon, perhaps?”

Mrs. Frogerton slowly shook her head. “I wouldn’t have thought you foolish enough to hold on to it. Mary realized the truth when she went to record her marriage at St. John’s, didn’t she? That there was no record of your marriage because the vicar refused to perform the ceremony.”

“We were married in the sight of God through our own rites. That’s all I cared about, and William was more than happy to go along with me.” Mrs. Scutton sighed. “I do wish you hadn’t decided to meddle, Mrs. Frogerton. You were very good to us when we arrived in London.”

“I’m glad you appreciate my efforts, but I still don’t understand why you are complacent about your son being allied with the Brighams.”

“Thomas might be a fool, but he still deserves to be the earl.”

Caroline tiptoed out of the concealed door and picked up the first heavy object that came to hand. She briefly met Mrs. Frogerton’s gaze.

“No one deserves to succeed if they get there by murder, ma’am,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “Now, kindly open this door and let me leave.”

“I can’t do that.” Mrs. Scutton shook her head. “I’ve come this far. What’s another dead body? I’ve already been forced to do away with two of the people I love most in the world to preserve my son’s claim to the earldom.”

“The College of Arms won’t validate a Roman Catholic marriage,” Mrs. Frogerton countered. “All your hopes will be dashed.”

“I’m not stupid, Mrs. Frogerton. The late earl arranged a fake marriage certificate through one of his pet vicars.”

“One has to wonder why the old earl was so interested in your marriage, ma’am. Was he perhaps the father of your child?”

“Good Lord, Mrs. Frogerton, you have been busy, haven’t you?” Mrs. Scutton laughed again. “Once I’ve disposed of you, I really must pay a visit to Miss Smith. She’s obviously been gossiping.”

“So, Caroline’s grandfather is Thomas’s father. Doesn’t that make them rather closely related for marriage?” Mrs. Frogerton asked.

Caroline inched closer.

“It’s even worse than that, ma’am. Caroline’s father is Thomas’s father. The old earl was merely protecting his son from scandal. He arranged everything—the groom, the dowry, and the fake certificate.”

“Which the College of Arms have.”

“Yes. Thomas will be the next earl. He is the earl’s son, after all.” Mrs. Scutton raised the blade. “I’ll be quick, ma’am. I wouldn’t want you to suffer.”

The ringing of the doorbell sounded loud in the empty house, but it was enough to make Mrs. Scutton hesitate and misjudge her thrust.

Caroline rushed forward, a heavy book in her hands, and hit Mrs. Scutton hard on the back of the head. Her opponent went down, and Caroline dropped the book and scrambled over to Mrs. Frogerton, who was bleeding.

“Mrs. Frogerton!” Caroline crouched beside her, took out her handkerchief, and pressed it to her employer’s shoulder. She placed Mrs. Frogerton’s hand over it. “Press down hard on this while I fetch Dr. Harris.”

“Yes, lass.” Mrs. Frogerton looked as pale as milk, her breathing harried. “I’ll be fine.”

Caroline checked that Mrs. Scutton was not yet conscious and tied her hands together behind her back with a stocking from the drawer before racing down the stairs to let Dr. Harris in. To her surprise, Mr. Scutton was with him.

“Dr. Harris!” Caroline ignored Mr. Scutton. “Mrs. Frogerton has been stabbed!”

He pushed past her and went up the stairs two at a time.

Mr. Scutton looked down at Caroline, his expression horrified. “It’s my mother, isn’t it? It was her all the time.”

“Yes. Now please go and find a constable with all speed,” Caroline said.

Mr. Scutton sped off, his face ashen, and Caroline went back upstairs. She rushed down the corridor and into the dressing room where Dr. Harris was attending to Mrs. Frogerton. He glanced up at her as she came to stand beside him.

“Fetch me a bowl of hot water and some soap and clean linen that I can tear into strips.”

Caroline went off to do his bidding. When she returned carrying the items he’d requested, he had Mrs. Frogerton settled into bed in the other room with the top half of her dress unbuttoned to the waist to reveal her shoulder.

“Good girl.” He washed and dried his hands with one of the linens and then wet another one to place on Mrs. Frogerton’s exposed shoulder. “Don’t faint, ma’am.”

“I never faint.” Mrs. Frogerton’s voice was thin as spun thread.

“You’ll be pleased to hear it’s a clean wound. The blade went straight through the fleshy part of your shoulder and avoided anything life threatening.”

“Good.” Mrs. Frogerton closed her eyes. “I’ve never been so frightened in my life. That woman’s eyes were as cold as ice when she went to stab me.”

Loud voices sounded from the dressing room. Caroline went in to discover Mr. Scutton with Sergeant Dawson and a constable.

“Good afternoon, my lady.” Sergeant Dawson touched his hat to her, his gaze on Mrs. Scutton, who was now conscious. “What’s been going on ’ere, then?”

“Mrs. Scutton tried to murder Mrs. Frogerton,” Caroline said. “I saw the whole thing.” She pointed toward the cabinetry. “I kicked the knife away after I hit her with the book. It’s probably under the dresser. I believe it’s the same weapon used to murder Mrs. Mary Brigham.”

“Take a look, please, Constable,” Sergeant Dawson said. “Where’s Mrs. Frogerton?”

“She’s in the next room being attended to by Dr. Harris if you wish to speak to her.”

“Dr. Harris? Not ’im as well.” Sergeant Dawson sighed and took out his notebook. “Here we go again.”