Lysander's face turned a light shade of red, fury building inside of him. Lord Rochester was murdered and the killers were not caught, or probably still not even identified. Simply, he shook his head, "No, it would change a lot of things, Kitty," he sighed as he tried to explain. He realized then that he was far too tired to truly flip out about this sort of thing and so that would have to wait for another time. Instead he pulled her into a gentle hug and rubbed her back.
"I'm sorry. I know I keep telling you that, but I know how you feel. I really do. And I just wish that someone would have told me they were sorry when my father died," he whispered against her hair. Realizing they were still standing in the foyer after talking about all of this, he released her, smiled as kindly as he could. "Is there somewhere we can go to sit? I promise not to be here much longer."