Pitt closed the door behind him. “I am sorry to disturb you, Mr. Parmenter, but I am sure you will appreciate that I need to ask further questions.”

“I suppose so,” Mallory said reluctantly. “I don’t know what I can tell. I have no knowledge of my own as to what happened. I was in the conservatory all the time. I didn’t see Miss Bellwood at all after breakfast. I assume she went upstairs to the study to work with my father, but I don’t know that or what happened after.”

“Apparently they quarreled, so Reverend Parmenter says, and according to the maid and the valet, who both heard them.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Mallory replied, looking down at his hands. “They quarreled rather often. Miss Bellwood was very opinionated and had not sufficient tact or sense of people’s feelings to refrain from expressing her beliefs, which were contentious, to put it at its best.”

“You did not care for her,” Pitt observed.

Mallory looked up sharply, his brown eyes wide. “I found her opinions offensive,” he corrected himself. “I had no personal ill will against her.” It seemed to matter to him that Pitt believed this.

“You live at home, Mr. Parmenter?”

“Temporarily. I am shortly to go to Rome, to take up a position in a seminary there. I am studying for the priesthood.” He said it with some satisfaction, but he was watching Pitt’s face.

Pitt was floundering. “ Rome?”

“Yes. I do not share my father’s beliefs either… or lack of beliefs. I do not mean to disturb your sensibilities, but I am afraid I find the Church of England to have lost its way somewhat. It seems not so much a faith as a social order. It has taken me a great deal of thought and prayer, but I am sure of my conviction that the Reformation was a profound mistake. I have returned to the Church of Rome. Naturally my father is not pleased.”