I was left to kick my heels, alone, in the library for nearly half an hour. Finally, though, Sir Harrow appeared in the doorway. "Well, I must say I would never have suspected Ben Swanson as your trespasser," he remarked. "His parents will be devastated when they learn of it."

Somehow, I couldn't summon any sympathy for the family. "What was he hoping to accomplish by stealing from Pearsend? Did he truly believe it would make things right?" I asked, waving for the magistrate to sit across from me. "And why now?"

"It seems he attempted to sneak in while Old Feldson was in charge of the place, but the man threatened to shoot him," Sir Harrow explained as he settled into a chair. It creaked beneath him, but held strong. The man didn't seem to notice.

Never would I have thought that the lazy butler I'd met would be so industrious to protect the house. "And he never considered that maybe I would have my own staff do the same?"

Sir Harrow raised his palms in a placating gesture. "He did not say so, but have a feeling he was counting on the fact that his sister would help him enter and exit unnoticed." The magistrate shook his head and added, "Foolish boy."

My curiosity getting the better of me, I asked, "Did he happen to say what kind of treasure he thought he was going to find? From what I've heard about the previous owners, they wouldn't have left behind anything of value when they left."

"The fool boy thought money or gold might be hidden in the floors or buried in the garden," Sir Harrow answered. He leaned forward. "It would be well within your right to demand justice for what the boy has done, Mr. Bywood. There are those who think that a trespasser is just as reprehensible as a poacher."

Warily, I eyed him. "I wouldn't go that far, but I do believe he should face repercussions for his actions."

"I agree," Sir Harrow said swiftly. "I'm afraid Ben is the kind of boy who needs to learn things the hard way. I'm hoping that you will allow me to handle the matter myself."

"In what way?"

"I know people in many walks of life," Sir Harrow explained. "My intention is to have him work as an apprentice in a trade. Hopefully, this will teach him the importance of hard work and make something of himself."

Having heard the young man's excuses, I wasn't entirely convinced this would work. "Why haven't you offered him this opportunity before?"

The older man heaved a sigh. "His father needed help on the farm and I hoped the boy would find purpose in helping his family. Mr. Swanson has little experience as a farmer and it was a difficult adjustment for him. It has been a difficult decade for the whole family."

Despite myself, I couldn't help but feel some empathy for the family. "Very well. Do what you think best," I said with a sigh. At least it would be one less thing for me to worry about. "Though..."

Would it be cruel of me to demand an apology? But what purpose would a insincere apology serve? It would probably be best to leave things be.

To my surprise, Sir Harrow seemed to already know what I was thinking. "I've made it clear that he must apologize for the trouble he has caused."

"Will he mean it?" I asked. Visibly, Sir Harrow hesitated. "An apology without sincerity is just words. I would rather not have to listen to him mumble and excuse himself. He will feel as though he has been humiliated and he will resent me even more."

Sir Harrow heaved a sigh. "Yes. I suppose you're right. Though I daresay some humiliation would be good for the boy."

"That may be true, but I don't think it should come from me." I had enough to deal with as it was. I didn't need to earn the enmity of a fool-hardy young boy, or his parents who were to be my neighbors.

"Right." Sir Harrow nodded in agreement. He struggled to stand up from his chair, making the piece of furniture groan. "I'll take him home myself and inform his parents of his recent activities. No doubt they are worried for him, given the late hour."

For a moment, it was on the tip of my tongue to ask if I should dismiss Molly Swanson. Given her involvement in her brother's actions, I wasn't sure I wanted her on my staff. However, I couldn't ignore the fact that her family must be in dire straits if she had taken the position of maid at all.

"I'm still looking into the matter of that dueling pistol," Sir Harrow said, before I could make up my mind. "No one has admitted to being involved in a duel, but who would? But I would have expected some kind of rumors to have spread if there had been one. I fear a great crime has been committed."

Is that what had kept him occupied earlier in the evening, and why he hadn't come to Pearsend quicker?

"Well, it has only been half a day," I told him. "I would think you missed your calling as a bow street runner if you'd managed to solve that little puzzle so quickly."

Sir Harrow's lips quirked upwards briefly in a smile. "I may be efficient at seeking the truth, but I am not quite a miracle worker. I will bid you good evening, Bywood. I hope this sorry introduction to the neighborhood has not soured you to it."

"If the state of Pearsend could not accomplish that, I doubt any actions from my neighbors would," I responded, extending my hand. "Thank you for your help in this matter. It's a weight off my shoulders knowing there won't be any more unwanted visitors."

Instead of calling for Davison, I escorted Sir Harrow to the door myself. In the dim light of the moon, I could see Timmons and Swanson already seated on horses, ready to depart. Once they were on their way, I closed and bolted the door. Davison came from the doorway leading to the kitchen. "Has all been resolved?" he asked.

"It would appear so," I told him. I looked up and noticed the soft glow of candlelight from the drawing room casting shadows on the staircase. "Would I be considered a bad host if I hurried my sister and her guest to bed?"

The dim light made it impossible to discern Davison's expression. "I think Miss Darkin would thank you for it," he commented, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Her maid says they have had a long journey today. I daresay the lady is ready for some rest."

She and I both! Leaving Davison to complete his evening routine of locking up the house, I went up the stairs. As I reached the first floor, I could hear my sister's voice, though I could not make out her words clearly.

The pair were seated side by side on the settee. They both turned their heads at my entrance. "Pardon my intrusion," I said, keeping my tone polite. "The matter downstairs has been resolved. We may all safely go to our beds."

"What matter?" Philippa demanded immediately. "What happened?"

Miss Darkin, on the other hand, nodded. "I am glad to hear it, Mr. Bywood," she said as she rose from the settee. "And I am even more glad to retire for the evening. I am not used to keeping Town hours at this time of the year."

"Would you mind showing Miss Darkin to the south bedroom, Philippa?" I asked. That, I assumed, would be the most appropriate way to handle this situation. "She will be right next to you tonight. I believe Mrs. Wallace has already shown your maid the room, Miss Darkin, and she will be waiting for you."

My sister glanced between us, her expression unreadable. "This way," she said to Miss Darkin.

"Good night," I said to them both as they passed me.

"Good night, Mr. Bywood," Miss Darkin responded with a warm smile. Her eyes gleamed with curiosity, but she chose to keep her questions to herself.

I was thankful that she didn't demand an explanation. It would be difficult to explain all that had happened with Philippa, who was bound to make a fuss over the whole thing. Tomorrow would be time enough to tell Miss Darkin what Sir Harrow had decided.

With the ladies on their way to bed, I set about putting out the candles. There was no fire to bank in the fireplace, so the room was soon in darkness. I expected there to be no impediment to reaching my bed, however, I met Philippa on the stairs.

"Miss Darkin has been put in a most unsuitable room," my sister declared as soon as she saw me. "It is barely large enough to be considered a room at all!"

"Well, that's because this is not Bywood Hall," I reminded her, holding back a sigh. "This is a small country home, and Pearsend has just what it needs for a country family. No attempts to impress visitors here."

"There are larger bedrooms in the attic," she argued, putting her hands on her hips. "I saw them. They would have been much more appropriate for a guest."

"That may be true, but there is also water damage from the roof leaking for decades," I said, leaning against the bannister. "Surely you must have smelled it when you were up there. It is not fit for anyone at the moment. It is either the small bedroom for Miss Darkin or you will have to share with her."

Philippa's expression turned sour. "This is very inconvenient," she complained. "I can't even begin to imagine what she must think of you!"

"I agree that it is very inconvenient," I said promptly. "Uninvited and unexpected guests cause a great deal of stress on a household. I am astonished that Mrs. Wallace hasn't quit altogether for all she has had to do these past week because of uninvited guests."

My sister hummed a note, oblivious to the implied criticism in my words. "Well, I hope Miss Darkin is understanding. I'd hoped your home would make a good impression on her."

"Oh? Why would your friend be affected by where your brother lives?" I asked feigning ignorance. "It could hardly be of any concern for her. She will only be here for a short time anyway. Her driver must return tomorrow."

"Short time? You can't expect her to only stay for a short time! She must stay as long as I am here. You cannot expect me to be isolated the whole time I am here! I need a friend to support me."

I made sure to nod as if I understood her, even though I didn't. "Of course. I was just surprised that you invited Miss Darkin of all your friends, and that you didn't tell me about the invitation before the lady arrived. She was horrified when she realized I had no idea of the invitation. It put her in a rather embarrassing position, and I do hope you apologized for that."

Even in the dimness, I make out the blush on Philippa's cheeks. "I rather think she was more horrified at the room she has been put in! What must she think of you? You are an awful host, Lucas."

"She is an intelligent lady. I have no doubt she thinks that I have been imposed upon most unfairly. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Miss Darkin informs us she must return home with her aunt's carriage tomorrow morning. She will insist on it."

Philippa's expression immediately changed to one of panic. "We must insist that she stay! After all, she came so far! She can't just turn around and go back after one night."

"It would not be appropriate for me to demand anything of a lady," I told her. "Though I am tempted to insist you return home. I should have done that the moment you arrived."

Her expression shifted to one of stubbornness. "I will assure Miss Darkin that she is more than welcome to stay if you will not be a gracious host," she said, ignoring my last statement. "I need someone to keep me company!"

Was she just ignoring the rules of propriety or had this situation addled her wits? She had to know that it was unseemly for an unmarried lady to be under the roof of a bachelor without a chaperone! And Philippa would not pass muster in that role!

"You really are a stubborn chit," I said to my sister with a sigh. "Very well. Have it your own way, but don't come crying to me when Miss Darkin's family insists she return to them when they find out about this. I'm sure they will be horrified, and it will reflect badly on our family."

Philippa shook her head. "You're being dramatic."

"I'm being dramatic?" I echoed. "Philly, I'm not the one who broke an engagement over a petty argument."

As soon as the words left my lips, I regretted them. The staircase at night was not the time to reason with my sister.

"Petty argument?" she repeated, her voice rising. "How dare you? You weren't even there! If Bartholomew—I mean, Mr. Talbot—If he says that it was a petty argument, and you believe him—"

"He never said it was a petty argument," I interrupted. "That is simply what it sounds like to me. A petty, unimportant argument that has been blown out of proportion."

Philippa made a sound like an outraged squeak. "You can't—"

"You were the one who brought this into my house," I cut her off again, keeping my voice low. "So you cannot get angry with me when my opinion is contrary to yours. You can't tell me what I ought to believe."

"Lucas," Philippa whimpered.

"Good night, Philippa," I said, continuing on my way. When she didn't move, I went around her. "Davison is closing up the house. Please don't make him stay up longer than necessary."

With a huff, she spun and raced up ahead of me. A minute later, she slammed the door of her bedroom. "I don't know that she is ready for marriage," I muttered under my breath.

That, however, was none of my business. My parents obviously thought she was mature enough if they gave permission for her to accept Mr. Talbot. He wanted to wed her. Either I would reconcile her with her betrothed, or send her back home.

In the meantime, I just wanted my bed.

~*~

My peaceful night was abruptly shattered by a loud crashing noise. When I sat upright, I wasn't sure what had awakened me. My heart was pounding in my chest, and for a moment, that was all I could hear.

Then, I heard the sound of shattering glass. "What in the world?" I scrambled out of my bed. My nightshirt was tangled around my legs and nearly tripped me. I snatched up the silk damask dressing gown that Davison left on the back of a chair.

The only source of light in the room was the moon streaming through the window. I had no way of knowing what time it was. I yanked open the door and stepped into the dark hallway, hoping to find some answers.

There had been no more crashes or shattering glass in the time it had taken me to get to the hallway. The door just down from mine opened. "Mr. Bywood?" I heard Miss Darkin ask.

"Stay up here," I advised. "I don't know what has happened, but I am going to find out."

"Lucas? What's going on?"

Perfect. Now Philippa was awake. "Go," Miss Darkin said swiftly. "Philippa and I will wait for you."

With no candle to light my way, I started down the stairs. Each creak of the steps made me wince. I wasn't going to surprise anyone, but did I want to? Would it be better to catch someone in the act, or scare them away?

Silence filled the first floor, signaling that I needed to continue my way down. Had someone broken into the library again? Why? With Ben Swanson in custody, I'd assumed that all would be well.

Could there be another person involved, possibly a friend or accomplice carrying on where Swanson had left off?

As I reached the hall, a light appeared. Mrs. Wallace came into view with a candle in her hand. "Mr. Bywood?" she asked, her voice tremulous. The candlelight showed that she had a kitchen knife in her other hand.

"Stay back, Mrs. Wallace," I told her, just as I had Miss Darkin. "Wait. Hand me that candle. I will take it with me."

Mrs. Wallace remained in the doorway and I went to her. I almost asked for the kitchen knife as well, but given that there had been no other sounds, I decided I didn't need a weapon to defend myself.

Though it may have done something to calm my nerves.

"I'm coming in," I called out as I approached the library door. However, I doubted anyone was still in the room.

The flickering candlelight revealed that there was no broken window, besides that which had already been broken. Which meant that the source of the broken window had to be the dining room.

Sure enough, when I held up the candle in that room, two of the windows had been broken. Why had the intruder or vandal attacked from the front of the house? What could they have been searching for?

"Sir?" Davison's voice made me turn around. He had a dressing gown over his nightclothes, the same as I did. I'd never seen him in such a state of undress before. Under different circumstances, I might have chuckled at the nightcap perched on his head.

"Whoever it was is gone now," I told him. I ran a hand over my face. "I don't understand. Ben Swanson couldn't have done this. Unless Sir Harrow released him to his parents and he came back seeking vengeance?"

"It's possible," Davison said solemnly. He didn't look or sound very sure. "I shall see if there is anything we can use to block up the window."

Given that we'd blocked one window already, I didn't think there were any more supplies available. He would have to go out to the stables and rouse the stable boy for some help.

I used the candle in my hand to light the candles on the dining room table and then handed Davison Mrs. Wallace's candle. "You may as well take this with you," I told him. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"I do not, but I will find out."

He hurried off, and after a moment, I heard him speaking to Mrs. Wallace. I remained where I was, my gaze fixed on the shattered glass of the window. None of this made any sense. Why had someone broken my window?

Well, the glass-maker was going to get more of my money this year than I had budgeted for.

I cautiously made my way towards the window, being careful to avoid the broken pieces of glass littering the floor. As I expected, it was impossible to see anything when I peered out into the darkness. There was no sound of a person fleeing into the night, either.

"Blast it all," I muttered.

What was Sir Harrow going to say when I summoned him yet again?