Miss Morton and the Deadly Inheritance

Book 3: Miss Morton Mystery

by Catherine Lloyd

Genres: Historical Mysteries; International Crime & Mystery

Synopsis

Social standing is everything in Regency England—and no one knows better than Miss Caroline Morton, a lady’s companion from a disgraced line. But when she has a chance to claim what’s rightfully hers, the one obstacle in her way is a dangerous murder mystery . . .

Miss Caroline has doubts when she receives an urgent invitation from a London law firm to discuss her late father’s estate. After all, the dishonored Earl of Morton died without a pound sterling to pass on to his two daughters. But while immersing herself in helping Mrs. Frogerton’s capricious daughter navigate the high social season, Caroline meets with a cagey lawyer, Mr. Smith, who shares life-altering news—the earl composed a second will, leaving behind an undisclosed fortune.

Mrs. Frogerton, however, is thoroughly unimpressed with the firm’s conduct and suspicious of their true motives. Her instinct proves right when the two ladies find the office ransacked, staff in turmoil, and Mr. Smith missing. The full weight of the situation doesn’t sink in until Mr. Smith dies following a brutal attack on the street—discovered with an empty envelope bearing Caroline’s name in his pocket.

With a connection forming between two deaths at the firm, Caroline can’t imagine why anyone would kill twice over the contents of a will. Further complicating matters is the amorous Mr. DeBloom—who claims his mother goaded the earl into making bad investments and promises to link Caroline to her inheritance—and the disappearance of Susan, her younger sister. As Caroline unwittingly becomes the center of both a criminal case and a sordid love triangle, she must tread with caution while seeking the truth . . . because someone is waiting to reduce her to nothing more than a signature on a dotted line.

Release date: August 20, 2024

Publisher: Kensington Books

Print pages: 272

Sample

London, 1838

Miss Caroline Morton picked up the morning post from the silver tray the butler had placed beside her plate. It was a bright, cheerful morning, and Caroline was alone in the breakfast parlor of the rented house on Half Moon Street. Her employer, Mrs. Frogerton, slept on after a late night at a society ball where Mrs. Frogerton’s daughter, Dorothy, had danced the night away.

Caroline had attended the ball, but since she hadn’t danced, she’d hardly exerted herself and had risen at her usual time to start the day. The Season was drawing to a close, and Caroline would soon need to decide whether she remained in Mrs. Frogerton’s employ or sought another position in London.

Her employer had strongly indicated that even if Dorothy chose to marry at the end of the Season, which seemed more than likely, Caroline would be more than welcome to accompany Mrs. Frogerton back north. Despite her initial trepidation in taking a paid position after being left penniless by her feckless father, Caroline had come to admire Mrs. Frogerton. She treated Caroline like a daughter and had already supported her through several trying events, including a family murder.

Caroline set the stack of invitations to one side and considered the rest of the post. There were two letters for her, including one from her sister, Susan, who was now at school in Kent. Susan still hadn’t forgiven Caroline for sending her away to school, and her letters tended to be stilted, short, and remarkably accusatory. According to Susan, every ill in the world, including the weather, the unfairness of her French teacher, and her lack of fashionable new dresses, was somehow Caroline’s fault.

Caroline put the letter in her pocket. It was a pleasant day, and she was looking forward to visiting Hyde Park and strolling along the paths with Mrs. Frogerton and her dogs. Reading Susan’s new list of grievances would depress her spirits, especially when she didn’t have the power or necessary finances to change anything. Mrs. Frogerton had generously paid Susan’s fees, and Caroline was very careful not to expose her employer to Susan’s complaints.

Her hand stilled over her pocket. She’d asked Susan if she wished to accompany her to their recently deceased aunt’s funeral at Greenwood Hall. They were supposed to be leaving in two days. She knew she should open the letter to see whether Susan wanted to come. With a resigned sigh, she took the letter out, unfolded it, and began to read. It did not take long.

Caroline put the letter back in her pocket. Susan had spent most of her childhood at Greenwood Hall under the care of Aunt Eleanor, and Caroline was disappointed she couldn’t bring herself to attend the funeral in person. It was all well and good for Susan to resent Caroline’s part in the recent ructions within their family, but to refuse to mourn the dead? Caroline found that hard to accept.

“Whatever is the matter, lass?” Mrs. Frogerton asked as she came into the breakfast room. “You look like someone murdered your favorite pet.”

She was already fully dressed in a crimson silk gown with lace trimmings and a matching cap. Her dogs milled around her with great enthusiasm as she settled into the chair opposite Caroline, her lively face aglow with interest.

Caroline fought a sigh. “Susan does not wish to accompany me to Aunt Eleanor’s funeral.”

“Well, there’s no surprise in that, surely? Your sister hasn’t forgiven you for taking her away from Greenwood Hall and sending her to school.” Mrs. Frogerton paused to allow the butler to set a pot of coffee at her elbow. “For what it’s worth, my dear, I still think you did the right thing.”

“Hopefully one day Susan will realize that for herself.” Caroline rose to her feet. “May I get you a plate of food, ma’am? There are some very nice coddled eggs and mushrooms.”

“That sounds delightful.” Mrs. Frogerton helped herself to some coffee. “And look on the bright side. If Susan doesn’t come with us, we’ll have more space in the carriage on the journey into Norfolk.”

Caroline set the plate in front of her employer. “I don’t expect you to accompany me, ma’am. I have enough money saved for the mail coach.”

“As if I’d let you go to that place alone.” Mrs. Frogerton frowned at her. “As a previous guest of the house, I do feel some obligation to honor your aunt’s passing. I have already ordered the carriage for tomorrow morning at eight. I must warn you that I have no intention of staying at Greenwood Hall. If we are unable to complete the journey back to London after the ceremony, we will stay at one of the local inns and resume our travels the following morning.”

“I have no particular desire to linger myself, ma’am.” Caroline repressed a shudder. “As my aunt was a practical woman, I suspect her funeral arrangements will be relatively straightforward.”

“I agree. And your cousin Nicholas doesn’t seem the type to go for an elaborate funeral repast,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “He doesn’t have a wife to organize such things or the staff to carry it off.” She ate some of the egg and beamed at Caroline. “This is very good, indeed! Do I detect a hint of mustard in there?”

“I’ll ask Cook. She’ll be delighted that you approve.” Caroline passed the two piles of correspondence over to Mrs. Frogerton. “Your business and personal correspondence are on the left, and the invitations on the right.”

Mrs. Frogerton gave a theatrical groan. “Perhaps you could consult with Dorothy as to the invitations? I must confess that I am eager to return home and never attend another society ball in my life.”

“You don’t mean that, ma’am. You are a much-liked guest.”

“Only for my money. Don’t forget that.”

“And for yourself. Many people find you . . . refreshing.”

“As in, loudmouthed and too honest?”

“An original,” Caroline said firmly, and took the pile of invitations back. “I will speak to Dorothy when she comes down. She has developed decided preferences as to which events she wishes to attend, which makes my job much easier.”

When Dorothy had first entered society, Caroline had guided her as to which balls would be advantageous to attend in her quest to marry into the peerage. As Dorothy had recently secured the attentions of a viscount, she no longer needed to be seen at all the events and, much to her mother’s relief, had scaled down her social activities considerably.

“I’m looking forward to a much quieter month,” Mrs. Frogerton said as she sipped her coffee. “Between all Dorothy’s goings-on and that business with Madam Lavinia, I am quite done in.”

“I agree, ma’am.” Caroline turned her attention to the second letter she had received in the post. It was from a very respectable address near Grays Inn. She opened the letter and read the contents.

Caroline repressed a sigh.

“Don’t tell me you have more bad news, lass?” Mrs. Frogerton asked.

“It’s not bad news, ma’am, but it is rather tiresome. My father’s solicitors wish to speak to me about his will, and I cannot imagine why.” She paused. “Unless they have discovered more of his debts and expect me to pay them off.”

“I don’t think that would be legal,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “It is one of the rare instances when being female protects you from a gentleman’s mistakes.”

“From his gentlemanly debts of ‘honor,’ ” Caroline murmured. “I can’t even imagine how much money he let flow through his fingers gambling and speculating.”

“Enough to bankrupt his own estate and steal his children’s inheritance without shame.” Mrs. Frogerton rarely minced words, and her disdain for what Caroline’s father had done to his fortune and his family had no bounds. “One might think he would’ve stopped there, but apparently not.”

“The solicitor didn’t specify, but it can’t be good news.” Caroline ripped the letter in half, took it over to the fireplace, and threw it onto the coals. It burned brightly for a moment before turning to ash. “If it is important, I’m sure he will write to me again.”

“That’s the spirit, lass,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “No need to court trouble.” She dropped her toast crusts onto the carpet for her dogs, who gobbled them up in an instant. “If he becomes impertinent, let me know and I’ll set my Mr. Lewis on him.”

Having witnessed Mr. Lewis deal with the highest echelons of the Metropolitan Police and emerge victorious, Caroline was certain Mrs. Frogerton was correct. It was also comforting to know Mrs. Frogerton would use her wealth and power to support her employee.

“Speaking of the Metropolitan Police, have you heard from Inspector Ross?” Mrs. Frogerton asked.

“Whyever would you think he had time to bother with me, ma’am?” Caroline avoided her employer’s bright gaze and busied herself re-sorting the invitations.

“We both know why, miss.” Mrs. Frogerton paused. “He is from a very good family.”

“Then he certainly wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me,” Caroline countered. “My father shamed us all.”

“Inspector Ross doesn’t seem to think so,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “And what about Mr. DeBloom? I saw him skulking around at that funeral we attended recently.”

Caroline reminded herself that very little escaped her employer’s eye.

“I have quite enough to do without concerning myself as to their whereabouts,” Caroline said briskly. “If they wish to pay their respects to you or Dorothy, ma’am, I will of course be in attendance.”

“I don’t think either of those gentlemen wish to speak to me, my dear. Between them and our dear Dr. Harris, you are quite the belle of your own ball.”

Caroline met her employer’s amused gaze. “I . . . truly do not want any attention. I am quite happy as I am.”

“You don’t want to be a wife and a mother?”

“I always assumed that would be my destiny, but my circumstances have changed considerably. I try not to think in those terms.”

Mrs. Frogerton reached across the table and patted her hand. “You’ll come about, lass. I’m sure of it. Some young gentleman will make you forget all about your circumstances, sweep you off your feet, and that will be that.”

“I suppose one can always dream, ma’am.” Caroline smiled. “But I can assure you that I am fully committed to ensuring that Dorothy marries well and that you are able to return home in triumph.”

“Now that is a worthy goal, indeed,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “Shall we finish our breakfast and get ready for our walk? I believe it is going to be a very nice day.”

Three days later, and in a very different part of the countryside, Caroline held an umbrella over Mrs. Frogerton’s head as the Norfolk rain poured down on them. There were very few mourners at her aunt’s graveside. It wasn’t surprising, as the family had recently been the subject of immense social speculation and gossip. Her cousin Nicholas, who had inherited his father’s title, hardly ever came to the estate, preferring to lodge in London and socialize with a group of gentlemen Caroline privately considered wastrels.

He’d been furious when his mother had died from a stroke, leaving him without her guidance and making him completely responsible for his family. Caroline couldn’t help but worry about the employees at Greenwood Hall who were now dependent on the whims of a man who had no wish to manage the estate or any intention of living there unless he was forced to.

Caroline could easily see that happening, because she suspected that unless Nicholas employed a competent agent—and he’d never been a good judge of character—he’d simply bleed the estate to fund his life in London until there was nothing left. Then he’d either have to sell up, which would be difficult with the entail, or live in the countryside until he could regroup and raise funds.

After the short service, Nicholas strode toward Caroline, the rain glinting on his coat and tall black hat. He was alone, as his younger brother George had decided not to attend the service and had stayed at his university.

“Cousin, it was good of you to come.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” Caroline said.

“Susan didn’t accompany you?”

“No, she is rather too far away to make the journey by herself,” Caroline said. “She sends her regrets and particularly wished to be remembered to you.” She turned to Mrs. Frogerton. “May I introduce you to my cousin, Nicholas, the new Earl of Greenwood, ma’am?”

Mrs. Frogerton looked Nicholas up and down. “My condolences, sir.”

Nicholas nodded. “Thank you. I believe you met my family earlier in the year.”

“Yes, your mother invited me and my daughter to a house party.” Mrs. Frogerton didn’t elaborate, which was most unlike her, but Caroline was grateful.

“Would you like to come up to the house for some refreshment before you leave?” Nicholas asked. “There is to be a reading of my aunt’s will, and the solicitor suggested you should be present, Caroline.”

“Yes, of course. We will follow in Mrs. Frogerton’s carriage, Nicholas.”

Her cousin turned away and walked by himself to a glossy, closed carriage drawn by two plumed black horses.

“He has no one to support him?” Mrs. Frogerton asked as they made their way back to their own vehicle.

“Not that I am aware of. He chose not to associate himself with his family here and preferred to live his life in London.”

“That might have to change,” Mrs. Frogerton commented as she got into the coach. “From what I recall, the household needs a strong hand like Lady Eleanor’s.”

Caroline sat down and let the coachman shut the door before she spoke again. “Between you and me, ma’am, Nick isn’t interested in managing the estate. He has always seen it as his source of funds and never questioned how my aunt wrested those sums from such an inhospitable landscape.”

Her gaze was drawn to the flatness and grayness of the fens with the deep dykes cutting between them. Half of the land was unusable because of the overflowing marshlands, and the rest was pitted with dry, flint-filled soil on which very little thrived. If Nicholas wanted to continue his current life, he’d need to invest in the land or marry very well indeed.

“I’ll wager he won’t provide a proper funeral repast,” Mrs. Frogerton commented as she looked out of her window.

“I assume the household staff will provide some form of refreshment. Even my cousin needs to eat.”

Mrs. Frogerton snorted.

“You didn’t take to him, ma’am?” Caroline turned to look at her employer.

“With all due respect, my dear, I find your whole family somewhat of a mystery.”

“They have certainly been beset by . . . trouble recently.”

“All of their own making,” Mrs. Frogerton said. “But to be fair, all families have their crosses to bear.”

Caroline was well aware of the somewhat fractious relationship Mrs. Frogerton shared with her only son, who was currently running the family businesses while his mother was busy in London. Many lengthy letters passed between them, and on more than one occasion, Mrs. Frogerton had threatened to pack her bags and return to the north to take back control of her empire.

“Ah, we’re here,” Mrs. Frogerton commented as the carriage turned left onto the drive up to Greenwood Hall.

Caroline found it difficult to imagine the house without her uncle and aunt inhabiting it and half the staff already gone. There was an unfamiliar housekeeper waiting in the entrance hall to accompany them upstairs to leave their cloaks and tidy up, and no sign of a butler. The house was quieter than she remembered, with no children in the nurseries. Several of the rooms they passed had the shutters closed and the furniture covered in dust cloths, which gave the place an unlived-in feeling.

The housekeeper accompanied them down to the drawing room, where tea was being served. Caroline’s cousin Eliza looked up as they entered the room. She wore black and her usual sour expression.

“Caroline. I knew you would come.” She paused. “If I were in such reduced circumstances, I suppose I’d be attending every funeral, even if my cause was futile.”

“Cousin.” Caroline curtsied. “I am sorry for the loss of your mother.”

“Despite all your efforts, I was her favorite child.” Eliza turned to Mrs. Frogerton. “Good afternoon, ma’am. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.” Mrs. Frogerton took a seat opposite Eliza. “Are your family well?”

“Yes indeed. My son is thriving, and my husband’s business interests have expanded considerably.” She smiled complacently and turned to Caroline. “And you, Caroline? Are you still working for your living?”

“She is, and I am most grateful that she continues to put up with me,” Mrs. Frogerton spoke before Caroline could form a reply. “She has worked wonders with my daughter, Dorothy.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Caroline smiled at her employer.

Eliza looked up as Nicholas came into the room accompanied by the vicar and another man who looked vaguely familiar.

Nicholas beckoned to Eliza and Caroline. “Come along. This won’t take a minute. Mr. Smith needs to return to London as soon as possible.”

“Off you go, dear.” Mrs. Frogerton smiled at Caroline. “I’ll be perfectly fine chatting to the vicar.”

Caroline smoothed down the skirts of her black dress and followed her cousins into her uncle’s study. Nothing had changed, and she fought a pointless wave of nostalgia for how things had been before his untimely death.

“Please take a seat.” Mr. Smith took up a position behind the desk. “Lady Eleanor’s will is a lot less complicated than her husband’s and deals mainly with monies that came down the maternal side of her family.”

Nicholas repressed a sigh and leaned one shoulder against the bookcase. “Please proceed. The sooner we finish, the quicker we can leave this backwater.”

Mr. Smith put on his spectacles, unrolled a parchment, and cleared his throat.

“This will is dated the thirteenth of October, 1832.”

Eliza sat up straight. “She didn’t amend her will before she died?”

“Not to my knowledge.” Mr. Smith looked at Eliza. “Are you suggesting you witnessed her doing so?”

“No, I just assumed . . .” Eliza looked around at her brother. “I thought she would have changed certain aspects of it to reflect her changed preferences.” She returned her gaze to Caroline and positively glared at her.

“Can we just get on with it, Eliza?” Nicholas took out his pocket watch. “If you stop interrupting, we’ll find out what Mama decided to do in a trice.”

“I’m just saying . . .”

Mr. Smith looked down at the document as if waiting for them to stop bickering. Caroline had to assume that such disagreements were common during the reading of wills.

“Pray continue, Mr. Smith,” Nicholas said.

“Thank you, my lord. ‘I, Eleanor, Margaret, Mary Greenwood, née Morton, of sound mind and body do hereby decree that on this day . . .’ ”

“With all due respect, Mr. Smith. Can you get to the important parts about who gets what and spare us the unnecessary legal jargon?” Nicholas was beginning to sound impatient. “I’m fairly certain my esteemed mother has left me nothing, and I’d like to get on.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Mr. Smith scanned the document and placed his finger on the appropriate section. “There are some small legacies to her dresser, cook, and housekeeper, but the bulk of her money goes to her two daughters and her two nieces.”

“That can’t be right,” Eliza said. “Mama promised everything would come to me!”

“She probably said that to make you stop nagging her, Eliza. She never appreciated being told what to do.” Nicholas faced the solicitor. “My sister Mabel is currently abroad, and my cousin Susan is a minor who resides at a boarding school in Kent. Caroline and I can take care of the monies meant for them.”

“How much?” Eliza demanded. “How much does she get?”

Mr. Smith looked as if he wanted to leave. “Which lady are you speaking of, ma’am?”

“Her!” Eliza pointed at Caroline. “The person who consistently tried to usurp me in my mother’s affections.”

“She didn’t need to try, Sis.” Nicholas laughed. “You did that all by yourself. And if you ask me, it serves you right for being so mean-spirited to our cousins.”

“You—” Eliza shot to her feet, her hands clenched into fists.

Mr. Smith looked at her. “If I might answer your question, ma’am?”

“Please. Go ahead.”

“Lady Caroline and her sister are to receive a lump sum of five hundred pounds each.”

Silence fell, and Eliza’s jaw dropped. “How much?”

“Five hundred pounds,” the solicitor repeated patiently. He looked at Caroline as Eliza started to pace the room and rage, while her brother continued to laugh. “I understand you are currently living in London, my lady. If you prefer, I can call on you there. I already need to speak to you about your father’s will, so it won’t be any trouble.”

It was Caroline’s turn to stand. “I think that might be a good idea.” She caught Nicholas’s eye. “Will you excuse me? I think Mrs. Frogerton wishes to return to London with the greatest of speed.”

Nicholas winked at her. “Go ahead, Cousin. I’ll deal with Eliza. Thank you for coming all this way in the first place. Perhaps I might call on you in London? I hear Miss Dorothy Frogerton is in possession of a large fortune and is looking to marry into the peerage.”

“I fear you are too lat. . .