The Hyde Park Headsman - Anne Griffin Perry [118]
Lismore looked surprised. “I perceive the difference, Superintendent I apologize for leaping to an unjustified conclusion.” He put his hands in his pockets and regarded Pitt with interest “But are you sure that Captain Winthrop was acquainted with Victor Garrick? I believe Captain Winthrop had no fondness whatever for music, and Victor certainly had no desire to have anything to do with the navy. He is a very peaceable, artistic sort of young man, a dreamer, not a man of action. He hates all manner of violence or cruelty, let alone the life of physical discipline and ordered belligerences necessary for life on board a naval vessel”
“It was not a friendship of choice,” Pitt explained, smiling to himself at Lismore’s description of naval life … one with which Victor would have agreed. “A family relationship,” he added.
“They were related?” Lismore was amazed. “I understood Victor’s father was dead and his mother had no extended family, at least none with whom she is in touch.”
“Not related by blood. Captain Winthrop was his godfather.”
“Ah.” Lismore’s face cleared. “Yes, I see. That would be quite different Yes, that makes ample sense.”
“Forgive me, Sir James, but you speak as if you knew Captain Winthrop?”
“Again I apologize, Superintendent. I have unwittingly misled you. Actually I never met him. It was Mrs. Winthrop I knew—very slightly. A charming lady, and most fond of music.”
“You know Mrs. Winthrop?” Pitt seized on it, uncertain if it had any meaning, but even the tiniest threads were precious, he had so little. “Was she acquainted with Mr. Arledge, do you know?”
Lismore was surprised.
“Oh yes, indeed. Mind, I cannot say whether it was an acquaintance of any duration or depth, or merely a natural affinity in the love of music and a spontaneous kindness on Aidan’s part. He was very gentle, you know, very easily moved to compassion.”
“Compassion? Was Mrs. Winthrop in some kind of distress?”
“Indeed.” Lismore nodded, watching Pitt curiously. “I don’t know what may have been the cause of it, but I recall seeing her on one occasion deeply distressed over something. She was weeping, and Aidan was endeavoring to comfort her. I don’t believe he was entirely successful. She left with a young gentleman, of a somewhat sunburned appearance. I believe he was her brother. He also seemed most disturbed about the event, and quite angry.”
“Her brother. Bartholomew Mitchell?” Pitt asked quickly.
“I regret I don’t recall his name,” Lismore apologized. “Indeed I am not sure if I ever met him. Aidan said something about it afterwards, I think that is how I gained the impression he was her brother. You look concerned, Superintendent. Does that have some meaning for you?”
“I’m not sure,” Pitt said honestly, but he felt his pulse race with excitement in spite of himself. “Is it possible Mr. Arledge and Mrs. Winthrop had a disagreement about something? Or even that Mr. Mitchell could have assumed it was so?”
“Aidan and Mrs. Winthrop?” Lismore looked startled. “I cannot imagine what about.”
“But is it possible?” Pitt insisted.
“I suppose so.” Lismore was reluctant. “At least I suppose it is possible Mr. Mitchell misunderstood the situation. He was angry, as I recall, very angry indeed.”
“Can you remember anything of it at all, Sir James?” Pitt pressed. “A word, a gesture even?”
Lismore looked uncomfortable, pursing his lips.
“Please!” Pitt could barely contain his impatience.
Lismore took a deep breath and chewed his lower lip before speaking.
“I did overhear a few snatches, Superintendent. I dislike intensely repeating what was most certainly an intensely private conversation, but I can see that you believe it may be of importance.”
Pitt was breathless with impatience.
“I heard the man—I shall assume it was the brother—say quite vehemently, ‘It is not your fault!’ He emphasized the negative most fiercely. He went on, ‘I will not have you say so. It is quite absurd and untrue. If Thora