Page 8 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

T he next two days passed without incident. Mrs. Scutton and her daughter didn’t appear to be speaking to each other, and Mary remained in her bedchamber. Mr. Scutton divided his time between them with scrupulous care while continuing to meet with his solicitors and bankers.

For the first time since the argument, all the Scuttons were present at dinner.

Mrs. Frogerton was discussing the progress of the repairs to Morton House with Mrs. Scutton, while Caroline attempted to converse with Mary, who seemed unwilling to speak to anyone.

Even as she persevered, Caroline became increasingly aware of a growing volume of noise coming from the front hall.

She turned toward the door just as an unknown man burst in, closely pursued by Jenkins. Mrs. Scutton screeched, and her son shot to his feet.

“Albert!” Mary cried joyfully. “You have come for me!” She rushed over to the man who grinned and planted a kiss on her cheek.

“That’s my girl.”

Mrs. Scutton pointed at him. “Get the police. This man should not be allowed in this house!”

“Mr. Brigham, I presume?” Mrs. Frogerton asked. “Is there any particular reason why you felt it necessary to invade my house like a savage rather than leave your calling card like everyone else?”

“I do apologize, ma’am.” Mr. Brigham bowed extravagantly in Mrs. Frogerton’s direction. He had a strong Irish accent. “Mary says you’ve been nothing but kind to her, but I knew the old witch wouldn’t see me if she thought I’d come calling all proper-like.”

Caroline noticed the butler had disappeared, probably to see if he could find a policeman on the street.

Mr. Scutton faced his brother-in-law. “You promised me you wouldn’t make a scene.”

“I’m not doing anything, Thomas, me lad,” Mr. Brigham said. “I’m just putting you all on notice that I’ll be back to claim my wife as soon as my affairs are settled.”

“She won’t leave with you,” Mrs. Scutton said. “She has far more sense than that.”

Mr. Brigham glanced down at his wife, who was staring at him adoringly, and winked. “She’ll do what she wants.”

The butler came back with the footman and a police constable.

“Come along now, sir,” the constable said, approaching Mr. Brigham. “I don’t want to have to arrest you.”

“For what? Coming to see my own wife?” Mr. Brigham sauntered toward the door. “I’m leaving. I’m not the one you should be worrying about. Ask Thomas here what happened to Jude at the inn.” He smiled. “He should know because he was right there when the ‘accident’ happened.”

He blew Mary a kiss and walked out, leaving a strained silence behind him.

Mr. Scutton cleared his throat. “I’m not sure what Albert is trying to imply about Jude. I did go and see him that evening at the Blue Boar, but only to reassure myself that he had the necessary funds to leave London. He was neither drunk nor dead when I left him.”

“Perhaps you should be more thoughtful about how you spend your money, Thomas,” Mrs. Scutton snapped. “Between Jude and Albert, you have made some very poor decisions lately.”

It was the first time Caroline had heard Mrs. Scutton publicly criticize her son.

His cheeks flushed as he looked at her. “I did what I thought was best, Mama. That is all. I refuse to feel guilty about trying to help those in need.”

Mrs. Scutton rose to her feet, her expression icy. “If you will excuse me, Mrs. Frogerton, I will retire to bed. I have something of a headache.”

“Of course, my dear.” Mrs. Frogerton looked sympathetic. “I’ll send my maid to attend to you.”

Mary barely waited until her mother left the room before she smirked at her brother. “That put the wind up her sails, didn’t it?”

Mr. Scutton sighed. “Please ensure that Albert doesn’t call here again. If you need to speak to him, send a letter.”

Mary laughed as she went out the door. “I’ll do what I please, brother. You know quite well that neither of you can stop me.”

Mr. Scutton sank down onto his chair, put his head in his hands, and groaned. “I can only apologize for the appalling manners of my family, ma’am. The sooner I can get them out of your house, the better.”

“All families have their squabbles, Mr. Scutton,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “In truth, I much prefer an argument to sulking and silence.”

“Your forbearance is much appreciated.” He sighed. “I suppose I’d better go and make peace with my mother.”

He left, and Mrs. Frogerton picked up her wineglass and drained the contents in one gulp.

“Good lord, Caroline, living with your family is like being in the middle of a torrid novel!” Mrs. Frogerton sounded more delighted than critical.

Knowing her employer, Caroline guessed she might be enjoying the drama. “I can only add to Mr. Scutton’s apologies, ma’am.”

Her employer waved off the apology as she refilled her wineglass. “Mr. Brigham strikes me as something of a rogue. His dislike of Mrs. Scutton was very obvious.”

“And hers for him,” Caroline said. “I did not appreciate his attempts to intimidate Mrs. Scutton and his threats of retribution.”

“He’s certainly resentful and angry,” Mrs. Frogerton agreed. “What did you think of his suggestion that Mr. Scutton was responsible for Jude’s death?”

Caroline frowned. “I cannot think of a single reason why Mr. Scutton would want Jude dead.”

“Unless Jude knew something that would undermine the Scuttons’ claim to the earldom,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “You did say Mrs. Scutton was very keen to get rid of him, too.”

“I am beginning to wish we’d never become involved in this matter at all,” Caroline confided. “The Morton family appear to be cursed.”

Mrs. Frogerton smiled. “They are certainly an interesting bunch. I must confess that I am quite enjoying all the excitement.” She suddenly sat up straight. “We should invite Inspector Ross to dinner. I’d love to hear what he thinks of all this.”

“I doubt he’d be willing to express an opinion at the dining table, ma’am. And expecting him to interfere in a matter that is not under his jurisdiction might demand too much of him.”

“I won’t be asking for his professional opinion,” Mrs. Frog erton said. “Just for his … impressions .” She rose to her feet and headed to the door. “I’ll write him a note directly while you instruct the butler to bring our coffee up to the drawing room.”

Caroline couldn’t deny that she’d like to see Inspector Ross, but bringing him into close proximity of the aspiring Morton clan wasn’t ideal.

She’d have to warn him before Mrs. Frogerton got to him.

The last thing she wanted was to make him feel as if he was useful to them only for his profession and not a welcome guest in his own right.

Unfortunately, when Mrs. Frogerton got an idea into her head, she was remarkably hard to stop.

To Caroline’s surprise, Inspector Ross was able to come to dinner before the end of the week. She made sure to watch out for his arrival and greeted him in the entrance hall before he made his way upstairs to her employer.

“Lady Caroline.” He kissed her hand. “How lovely you look tonight.”

She smiled up at him. “You always say the nicest things.”

“Only when they are true.” He kept hold of her hand, his voice low. “I understand there are claimants to the Morton earldom.”

“That’s correct.” Caroline paused. “I suspect Mrs. Frogerton asked you here so that you could observe them and offer her your unofficial report on their suitability.”

“So that’s it.” His slow smile made her heart turn over. “I did wonder.”

“She means no harm by it.” Caroline rushed to defend her employer.

He set her hand on his arm and escorted her upstairs. “I need no incentive to call on you, Caroline, you know that.” He patted her fingers. “As soon as my brother regains his health, I intend to visit you a lot more often.”

Ahead of them, someone cleared their throat, and Caroline looked over to see Mr. Scutton standing stiffly in the doorway.

“May I present Mr. Thomas Scutton, Inspector Ross?” Caroline said. “Mr. Scutton believes he is the next Earl of Morton through our mutual great-grandfather.”

Mr. Scutton didn’t hold out his hand. “You are a police officer?”

“Yes.” Inspector Ross looked slightly bemused.

Mr. Scutton addressed his next words to Caroline. “It is a lowly profession usually confined to the goings-on in the servants’ quarters. Are you quite certain Mrs. Frogerton wishes this person to be present at her dinner table?”

“Quite, Mr. Scutton.” Caroline smiled as she and Inspector Ross went past him into the drawing room. “Inspector Ross is a valued family friend.”

As Mrs. Frogerton immediately rose to greet her guest and thanked him for coming, Mr. Scutton was silenced. Caroline was aware that some members of society viewed the Metropolitan Police with great suspicion, but she’d never heard anyone express it so directly.

She touched Inspector Ross’s arm. “I do apologize for Mr. Scutton’s behavior.”

“There’s no need,” Inspector Ross said easily. “I’ve heard such opinions many times before. No one likes the police until the day they suddenly need them.”

“Still …”

He took her hand. “Please don’t let it bother you. I rarely have an evening to myself these days, and I’d love to enjoy this one.”

“Hopefully he’ll keep his opinions to himself from now on,” Caroline murmured. “Or I will have a few things to say to him.”

“My fierce protector.” Inspector Ross smiled down at her. “Do you believe he truly has a claim to the earldom?”

“My opinion scarcely seems to matter, sir. Coutts Bank and the Morton solicitors seem eager to accept his claim as soon as possible.”

“They’re probably hoping to get shot of administrating an estate that isn’t in the best of health.

It’s hardly a prize,” Inspector Ross said.

“But I doubt the Royal College of Arms will be in any hurry. They are immune to pressure from anyone. If my father could bribe them to remove Richard as his heir, I’m fairly certain he would have tried it. ”

“How are your family, Inspector?” Caroline asked.