"I would be very interested to look at your books, Mr. Bywood," Mr. Jennings said, accepting a bowl of vegetables from Mr. Talbot. "I'm sure there must be some interesting titles among them."

"You're more than welcome to look through them," I told him immediately. "I didn't see a single title that was interesting or of any value, but I've been focused on other matters."

The vicar beamed with delight. "I've always believed that books hold hidden treasures. You never know what you'll discover within their pages. Perhaps that is the treasure your trespassers are looking for?"

Philippa wrinkled her nose once again, but did not comment. "What books do you enjoy reading, Mr. Jennings?" Talbot asked, his tone showing the first bit of interest I'd ever heard.

"Oh, anything, really. History, poetry, even the occasional novel," the vicar said with a laugh. "Both of my parents were great readers, and they encouraged it in my siblings and I from a young age. Hand any of us a book and we will be happy."

For the first time, Talbot smiled. "My parents were much the same," he said. "Our home was always quiet because we were all reading. But I'm afraid it made us a shy group, and it took a great deal of effort for us to learn how to hold a conversation with someone we just met."

Was that the reason he was so taciturn and serious? Well, that was good to know. Maybe there was a chance for us to become friends in the future. He just needed some time to get to know me better.

Or, given the way things had been going for me lately, he'd hate me even worse than I suspected he did.

"I believe most people experience some uneasiness when speaking with unfamiliar individuals," Mr. Jennings said, his tone commiserating. "I find myself anxious every time I must step foot in London."

"I find that hard to believe!" Philippa exclaimed incredulously. "It is such fun to meet new people! They are always so interesting!"

"Not everyone has your nature, Philippa," I told her. Of all my siblings, she was the most outgoing and vivacious. Even as a child, she had never been able to keep her thoughts to herself. "For some of us, socializing can be quite challenging."

Philippa pouted. "I've always thought that was because they were just being obstinate. It isn't difficult to talk to people."

She didn't believe that. She couldn't! How could she have reached the age of eighteen without realizing that everyone was different? Or...was Philippa intentionally trying to be as cruel as she could?

It took all my self-control not to reprove her then and there. As much as I was disgusted by her actions, it was not my place to do so. Even if I invoked the privilege of being siblings, it would have been embarrassing for her if I did it in front of our guests.

I knew what it was like to be scolded in company, and it was far from a pleasant experience.

"Oh, I can guarantee some of us were being obstinate," I commented lightly. reaching for my wine glass. "To go from being students and having everyone tell you what to do, to having the freedom to make our own choices? It definitely can go to one's head."

Mr. Jennings nodded vigorously in agreement. "It can be challenging to make that adjustment. I've always believed that if more parents were to do as my parents did, giving more and more responsibility to their children as they grew, there would be fewer mistakes made by young individuals in society and we all would be better for it."

Philippa's expression showed her displeasure with the topic at hand. "But isn't making mistakes a part of learning and growing up?" she asked. "Mistakes are not something that can be avoided."

"But if they can avoid mistakes, learning from others, isn't that better?" I asked, trying to be as gentle as possible when I wanted to wring her neck. "It would prevent a great deal of pain and embarrassment."

Just then, Davison came back into the room. He grabbed the decanter and walked over to my chair. Leaning down, he poured more liquid into my glass. "All the books in the library have been removed from the shelves," he murmured. "You may want to inspect the damage as soon as possible."

Damage? I managed to give a nod, and Davison moved away. My mind raced, trying to make sense of the news. In the short time since I left the library, someone had slipped in and pulled all the books off the shelves? How was that even possible? There were several people in the house, and it wasn't as if the house was so large someone would go unnoticed.

What kind of person would do something so bold and reckless? I might be able to understand that someone made a search while Pearsend was abandoned. Well, the place hadn't been completely abandoned. There had been a negligent caretaker, but I couldn't see the man as one who was diligent about keeping watch on the place. It wouldn't have been difficult for someone to enter unnoticed and do whatever they pleased.

But now? With servants going about their tasks? And me? The new master of the place? Why would someone take the risk that he would encounter one of us?

I caught Mr. Walton's gaze, and his quizzical expression made it clear that he had noticed his uncle's discreet whisper. I mentally breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't inquire further as I simply shook my head. He shifted his focus to my sister and asked her something, but I was too distracted to catch the words.

Good. Maybe he would keep Philippa occupied and she would not try to provoke Talbot into a fight.

Somehow, we would get through the rest of the evening.

~*~

Around ten o'clock, I found myself standing in the library doorway. My guests had departed and Philippa had gone to bed. The flickering light of the candle I held was not very bright, but it was enough to reveal the scene.

Books were scattered across the floor, some left open as if the person who had taken them off the shelf had been searching for something specific. What could they have been looking for? Money hidden among the pages? A clue to the whereabouts of the treasure?

Shaking my head, I walked further into the room. It was clear that whoever had done this had been extremely thorough, completing the task in a short amount of time.

"Stupid," I muttered, though I wasn't sure if I meant myself or the trespasser. Maybe just the situation in general? "What am I supposed to do about this?

Someone cleared their throat behind me. My heart racing, I quickly turned around to find Davison standing in the doorway with his cat cradled in his arms. "Who are you talking to?" he asked.

"You startled me," I said, instead of answering him. Being caught talking to myself made me feel rather foolish. "What are you doing down here?"

"I suspected you might want to discuss the situation as soon as possible," he responded. He nodded down at the black feline. "And Leo came this way, so I followed him to ensure he did not cause any trouble."

If only he had a dog that could provide some protection against intruders.

I turned my attention back to the chaos in front of me. "Well, at least this shouldn't take too long to sort out," I observed. "I suppose I should be grateful that they didn't rip the books apart during their search. After all, someone might have hid something in the spine of a book if it was small enough."

Although it was meant as a joke, Davison nodded with deep consideration. "I doubt the books were worth much," he said solemnly. "Even if they were harmed, they wouldn't have been a great loss."

If that was supposed to make me feel better, it failed completely. I crouched down and picked up an open book from the floor. A close examination showed that it was an old history book, the kind that had put me to sleep as a boy. Why had this one been opened? What made it more important than the others? Or had it just fallen open by accident and there was no clue to be had?

"I must say our trespasser is a bold fellow," Davison continued. "And a quiet one. Neither Mrs. Wallace nor any of the maids heard or saw anything suspicious. However, none of them had a reason to go near the library today."

"Could there have been more than one person involved?" I wondered as I straightened. "How could they have gotten in without being seen?"

"I noticed one window was ajar when I entered earlier," Davison explained, gesturing to the row of windows, all of which were now closed. " I assume that is how the intruder gained access and then escaped. What makes you believe this was the work of more than one person?"

I waved a hand at the books. "I know I don't have an impressive library, but it still would have taken considerable effort to carefully remove each volume and flip through its pages without making a sound. Even if no one had tasks that brought them in here, there was always the risk that someone would walk past the door. Two people would have made the task faster. Or, one person was a look-out while the second searched."

After a moment of thought, the other man nodded in agreement. "That is a good point, Master Bywood. It would be unwise to jump to any conclusions when we know so little."

Being addressed as 'Master Bywood' made me feel like a boy. I would have to tell him later not to do so in front of anyone else.

"What did you tell Mrs. Wallace?" I asked.

"The truth, 0f course. She was both alarmed and angered that someone had dared to invade the house," was the immediate answer. "We decided not to inform the maids for now, as Molly is already anxious."

Still, I had a feeling they would find out somehow. Servants always did, even when you tried to keep a secret. That was an unfailing truth I'd learned early on in my life. It was half the reason I'd dismissed the valet my father had hired for me.

"I cannot afford to hire a guard for the estate," I told him. "Yet, I can't think of what else to do. How am I supposed to keep intruders away and everyone else safe? It seems like I've already made a mess of it."

Though I anticipated receiving some guidance from Davison, all he did was shake his head. "You can only do what you can do, sir," he said, his voice quiet. "No one could have predicted that this would happen."

"I am amazed that anyone would continue their search while I am here." I shook my head. "Do you happen to know who the local magistrate is?"

"The magistrate is Sir George Harrow," Davison answered immediately. "What do you think he will be able to do?"

"I don't know, but a crime is being committed. At the very least, he can provide me with some guidance on what I should do. Perhaps just knowing that I've sought out the most influential person in this area will deter these intruders. Where does Sir George live?"

Davison gave me the man's direction. "When will you visit him?"

"Tomorrow! First thing!" I declared as I placed the book on the edge of the desk. Then, I walked to the window. It might be shut now, but I remembered how I had wondered about Philippa opening it earlier. What a fool I had been to make such an assumption! "I don't want to live my life afraid someone is going to just sneak into my home when my back is turned."

"Very good, sir," Davison said, sounding like a haughty butler. "Will there be anything else?"

"We're going to just shut the door and leave it as it is. The magistrate may want to make an examination of it, but I doubt he'll find anything of significance. Please inform Mrs. Wallace not to enter this room, and instruct the maids to refrain from their usual cleaning and dusting until further notice."

"Of course."

"And..." Was there anything else to say? "Is there a way to secure the window so we can sleep without worrying about someone trying to break in?"

"You expect them to try again?"

I shrugged. "I wouldn't have expected anyone to trespass in the first place," I told him, "but here we are. It seems better to be prepared for anything. Or, at least, anything we could imagine might be possible."

"I will check with Mrs. Wallace to see if she has any ideas, and we'll do our best to block the window before we retire," Davison said, accepting my logic. "Will you tell Miss Bywood about this in the morning?"

Right. Philippa. What should I do about her? The most logical choice would be to send her home, but I knew my sister too well. She would refuse to leave no matter what I said. Somewhere in our lineage, there must have been a strong-willed individual. I inherited it and now I was seeing it come out in Philippa.

"I suppose she should know the full extent of what is happening," I said reluctantly. "Maybe she will take it seriously this time and not brush it off as a mere joke."

"She may argue that since no one has been harmed yet, there is no reason to believe the trespassers will suddenly become violent."

"That might be. But we must also consider the possibility that the intruders, driven by their frustration, may resort to doing something they wouldn't normally do," I pointed out. "Frustration makes people to act out of desperation."

"Do you think that's why these people are searching for the treasure? They are desperate?"

"They'd have to be to believe in something as absurd as treasure being hidden in Pearsend," I responded. A yawn escaped me, and I brought my hand up to cover my mouth. "Well, it was a long day. I'm sure it was for you too."

"Indeed, sir," Davison said, returning to his formal tone. Somehow, he didn't manage to look ridiculous while holding his cat. "Will there be anything else?"

"No. And you don't have to come up," I told him. "I can undress myself. Have a good night, Davison."

After making a small bow, he exited the room. I gave the books one final disapproving look before leaving the library. It would be a daunting task to tidy up and return all the books to their rightful places on the shelves.

With any luck, a restful night's sleep will help me sort out my thoughts on the matter.