Brunswick Gardens Read Online Free PDF Page B

persecution, proscription and even martyrdom—was part of the fabric of the nation. Only a few months before—the past October, to be exact—he had closely observed Irish politics, rooted in passionate hatred between the two religions. Protestantism was immeasurably more profoundly and intensely critical, whether one agreed with those ethics or not.
    “I see,” he said grimly. “It is hardly surprising you found Miss Bellwood’s atheism offensive.”
    “I was sorry for her.” Again Mallory corrected him. “It is a very sad thing for a human being to be so lost as to believe there is no God. It destroys the foundation of morality.”
    He was lying. It was in the sharpness of his voice, the quick bright anger in his eyes, the speed with which he had replied. Whatever he had felt for Unity Bellwood, it was not pity. Either he wished Pitt to think it was or he needed to believe it himself. Perhaps he did not think a candidate for the priesthood should feel personal anger or resentment, especially towards someone who was dead. Pitt did not want to argue about the foundation of morality, although a rebuttal rose to his tongue. The number of men and women whose morality was founded in love of man rather than love of God was legion. But there was something closed in Mallory Parmenter’s face which made the idea of reasoning on the subject pointless. It was a conviction of the heart rather than the mind.
    “Are you saying, as kindly as possible, that Miss Bellwood’s morality was questionable?” Pitt asked mildly.
    Mallory was taken aback. He had not expected to have to reply. Now he did not know what to say.
    “I … I don’t know in any immediate sense, of course,” he denied it. “It is only the way she spoke. I am afraid she advocated a great many things which most of us would find self-indulgent and irresponsible. The poor woman is dead. I should greatly prefer not to discuss it.” His tone was final, ending the matter.
    “Did she air these views in this house?” Pitt asked. “I mean, did you feel she was influencing members of your family or your staff in an adverse way?”
    Mallory’s eyes widened in surprise. Apparently this was something that had not occurred to him. “No, not that I am aware. It was simply—” He stopped. “I prefer not to speculate, Superintendent. Miss Bell wood met her death in this house, andit appears more and more as if you are not satisfied it was accidental. I have no idea what happened, or why, and I cannot be of material assistance to you. I’m sorry.”
    Pitt accepted the dismissal for the present. There was nothing to be gained from forcing the issue now. He thanked Mallory and went to look for Tryphena Parmenter, who seemed to be the one most profoundly distressed by Unity Bellwood’s death. He learned that she had gone upstairs to her bedroom, and he sent a maid to ask if she would come down to see him.
    He waited in the morning room. Someone had now lit an excellent fire there, and already the chill was off the room. The rain beating against the windows was quite an agreeable sound, making him feel isolated in warmth and safety. The room was also furnished in highly fashionable taste, with a considerable Arabic influence, but softened to blend with the English climate and materials for building. The result was more to Pitt’s taste than he would have expected. The onion dome shapes stenciled on the walls and echoed in the curtains did not seem alien, nor did the geometrically patterned tiles in green and white around the fireplace.
    The door opened and Tryphena came in, her head high, eyes red-rimmed. She was a slender, handsome woman with thick, fair hair, excellent skin, and a very slight space between her front teeth that was revealed when she opened her mouth to speak.
    “You are here to find out what happened to poor Unity and see that some justice is done her!” It was more a challenge than a question. Her lips trembled and she controlled herself with