Despite my best efforts, I struggled to fall asleep. The knowledge that an intruder had been prowling through the gardens and had even managed to enter my home made it impossible for me to fully relax. While I knew it was unlikely that the person would try again, I couldn't shake off my uneasiness.

And any time I wasn't able to sleep, I was cranky in the morning.

My sister's cheerfulness intensified the throbbing in my head, and I wished I had skipped breakfast altogether. Philippa prattled on and on, oblivious to the fact that I wasn't really listening. If I had been paying attention, I might have noted that she seemed to be in a remarkably good mood.

Would Mr. Walton report any new holes on the grounds? Or would we have a brief respite so I could think of what to do?

Philippa's voice broke through my thoughts, pulling me back to the present. "Why are you in such ill humor today?"

"Why are you in such good humor?" I countered. "I expected you to be furious with me."

She waved a hand. "Why? It wasn't the worst thing you've ever made me do. Remember when I was five years old and you convinced me that I needed to befriend my pony? You made me muck the stall myself! Miss Totter was horrified when she found me."

I couldn't resist a smile at the memory. How easy it had been to persuade her when she was that age! "I remember how much trouble I was in when Mama and Father found out about it."

"Which is only right," Philippa said primly. "I was an absolute mess because of you! It took a week for me to not smell like manure!"

"What fun it was to be a child," I remarked, reaching for my cup of coffee. "And how eager I was to grow up!"

"I don't recall it being all that interesting or fun when I was a child," my sister responded, wrinkling her nose. "There was always someone telling me what to do or how to behave. It was a relief to put all that behind me."

"I'm sorry to tell you that reaching the age of eighteen does not instantly mean everyone will stop telling you what to do. On the contrary, society will put more pressure on you to act appropriately, and the consequences will be more severe because you will not have the excuse of being a child."

Groaning, Philippa pushed her chair back. "I really don't want to hear a lecture right now, Lucas. And I'm sure you're exaggerating the matter."

"Excuse me, sir," Molly spoke up, her voice shaking. "There is a gentleman at the door."

Again? Astonished, I swung my gaze to the maid. "Who is it this time?" I asked.

"A-A Mr. John Ward," she stammered, the color increasing in her cheeks. "He's asking to see you."

Ward! Well, at least this visitor was a friend! "Pardon me, Philly," I said, getting to my feet. "I need to speak to my friend. I hope you enjoy the rest of your breakfast."

"You could just have him brought in here," Philippa said to my back as I hurried out. "Lucas! Why are you ignoring me? Lucas!"

However, I needed to have a private conversation with my friend, which would be difficult with my sister present.

In the hall, John Ward stood in front of the lone, drab painting on the wall. He turned at my approach. "You should consider hanging something more cheerful here," he commented. "It puts people off seeing something so ugly first thing. It makes a poor first impression."

I couldn't have cared less about the painting. Had I ever bothered to really look at it? "This is a surprise," I said, extending my hand as I approached. "I thought you were in Brighton seeking your fortune."

We shook hands. "I was in Brighton," he answered, his tone dismissive and bored. "But the company was sparse, at least when it came to card games. I decided to cut my losses and visit my home. However, upon arrival, I discovered an unexpected visitor."

"Right. Sorry about that. I wasn't sure where else to send him."

Ward grimaced. "Was there any particular reason you couldn't have put him up here?"

"Because my sister invaded first."

My friend arched an eyebrow. "And you didn't trust the betrothed pair to behave themselves under your roof?"

"I didn't trust Philippa not to kill him, or try to harm him at the very least. They've had some kind of quarrel and she has declared they will not be married. She ran away from home to avoid our parents scolding her, and he followed to make sure she didn't get hurt on her own."

"So send him back to his own house. My daughter is not interested in me as long as there is someone more interesting in the house, and I don't appreciate being pushed into second place by someone who has nothing good to say about me." Ward's tone was light, but had an edge of seriousness to it.

Wait. I'd always seen Talbot as a consummate gentleman. Could he really have been insulting Ward? "What exactly has he been saying to you?" I demanded. I would not stand for anyone disrespecting my friend!

Ward waved his hand. "Oh, never mind. It's nothing that hasn't been said before and I know better than to give his opinion any importance. Why did you keep him in the neighborhood if your sister is refusing to marry him?"

Eyeing him, I said honestly, "I am hoping they will sort out the problem for themselves if they have the time and space to do it. Do you mind housing Talbot for a couple more days?"

Ward shook his head. "Admit it. You're secretly a romantic, Bywood."

"I think of myself as being more a pragmatic person. If Philippa's engagement is broken, it could ruin her chances of getting married and she will be a spinster. I cannot imagine that kind of future for her when she was so happy with Talbot the last time I saw her. Why should one quarrel ruin her life forever?"

Ward snorted in disbelief. "Well, far be it for me to ruin your plans," he said. "Fine. Talbot can stay with me, but do me a favor and warn him to keep his snide comments to himself. I don't need his criticism on how I live my life, and I certainly don't want him implying anything around my daughter."

"Right." I held back a sigh, trying not to show my frustration. Why couldn't adults be trusted to behave like adults? "I'll have a word with him."

If Talbot made things more difficult for me to fix things, I wasn't going to thank him for it. Did he not understand that Ward was actually helping us both out? Why did he feel the need to comment on Ward's personal life when it was none of his business?

"Would you care to come in and greet my sister?" I asked, changing the subject. "No doubt you heard her how she protested my coming to greet you."

"Yes, I did," he answered, with a quick grin flashing across his face. "I will say this for your sister. She's a bold one. What was her goal in coming here? Didn't she realize this place is even more isolated than Bywood Hall? There isn't much opportunity for socializing."

"I doubt she put much thought into it, besides wanting to get away from home." I gestured to the side table. "Put your hat and gloves there. Are you hungry?"

"I never turn down an offer of a meal," Ward said, removing his gloves and placing them in his hat. "And where is the good Davison? Shouldn't he be the one answering the door?"

"His responsibilities seem to take him to different places in the house each day," I said, leading the way to the dining room.

My friend chuckled as he followed me. "I'm not surprised in the slightest. An enterprising man like Davison will never overlook an opportunity to make himself indispensable."

"Naturally, sir." Davison's dry comment nearly made me jump out of my skin. He was standing just inside the dining room. Just when he'd gotten there, I had no idea.

"You're looking well, Davison," Ward greeted, completely unperturbed. "The country must be treating you well."

"Indeed, sir," Davison responded with a slight bow. "I might say the same concerning Brighton for you."

"Unfortunately, Brighton was lacking in entertaining company. Thus, I find myself back in the country with you."

"Philly, I believe you remember my friend, Mr. John Ward," I said to my sister. "He has agreed to join us for the remainder of breakfast. And then, I am hoping he will go with me to the magistrate's house and make the introduction."

"Good morning," Philippa greeted with a polite smile.

"Sir Harrow?" Ward asked as he approached the table with me. "Why do you need to speak with him?"

"There seem to be rumors taking hold that a previous owner may have hidden a treasure on Pearsend," I informed him. "Someone has been digging holes on my property and sneaking into the house. Just yesterday, they took every book off the shelves in the library and made a complete mess. While we were in the house, I might add."

Ward raised an eyebrow. "Have you been indulging in too much wine, Bywood?" he asked.

"Oh, he hasn't been drinking, Mr. Ward," Philippa informed him. "At least, not to excess, I do assure you. He's telling you the truth. Although, this is the first time I'm hearing about someone being in our house yesterday. And holes? That's news to me."

The last was said with a sharp glare in my direction.

"I examined the scene after dinner last night," I informed her. "You had already retired for the night at that point. I didn't think you would want me to wake you to inform you of the new development."

Philippa sniffed, her expression still displaying annoyance. "Always with the excuses," she muttered.

"Well, of all the things I thought I would hear today, this was definitely not on my list," Ward commented. He took a seat at the table, choosing the chair across from my sister. "Certainly, Bywood. I will introduce you to Sir Harrow. There's nothing pressing at Hillside."

"Hillside?" Philippa repeated. "Where or what is Hillside?"

"Hillside is Ward's home, Philly," I informed her.

"Am I to understand that you have an estate of your own, Mr. Ward?" was my sister's next question.

"Yes, I do," Ward confirmed with a slight nod.

Was it my imagination, or did Philippa perk up at this admission?

"However, as I have no need for such a large estate like Hillside Manor, the Campbell family is currently renting it from me," Ward continued. "There is a daughter who might be your age, Miss Bywood. Perhaps you will find a friend there."

My sister pouted. "I'm not a child. I don't need other people to make sure I have friends wherever I go. I am perfectly capable of making friends on my own,"

She had been eager to meet my neighbors, so why the sudden change of heart? "Well, you did ask me to introduce you to my neighbors, Philly," I told her. "Since I haven't had the chance to meet them yet, Ward is your best bet to get an introduction. But if you've changed your mind..."

The look she sent me was far from sisterly or affectionate. "But what sort of people are they?" she asked. "I have never heard of them."

"I'm sure there are many people you have never met or heard of," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "However, if you don't want to meet the Campbells, that is your choice."

"I didn't say that," my sister said swiftly.

"After I visit Sir Harrow with your brother, I will be happy to escort you to Hillside Manor," Ward told Philippa. "I just saw Mr. Campbell this morning. The family is at home."

"Well, since Lucas has no interest in becoming acquainted with his own neighbors, I suppose I will have to accept your invitation," Philippa said, without looking at the man. "Thank you. I would be delighted to meet the Campbells."

Why was she so upset? She was getting what she wanted! Was it because I wasn't the one conforming to her plan? I never would have thought Philippa was a manipulative young lady, but recent events had shown me that I may not truly know her. Her actions were telling me clearly what kind of young lady she was now, and I wasn't sure I liked it.

"Well, I'm glad that's been settled," I said. "Eat up, Ward, and we'll be on our way."

My friend rose to fill his plate. Philippa gave me a piercing look, as if she was trying to communicate something. I raised an eyebrow in question. She scowled and then darted her gaze towards Ward.

"I trust you will be able to entertain yourself while I am away?" I asked, since I couldn't make sense of what she was trying to communicate. "Do try to keep out of the garden if you can. I don't need Mr. Fenwick upset on top of everything else."

Philippa crossed her arms. "Are you still upset about that? I'll personally apologize to your gardener if it will make you stop bringing it up. It was only a few flowers."

"Miss Bywood, were you picking flowers in the garden without permission?" Ward asked as he returned to the table. His plate was piled high with food. "For shame! Surely you know a gardener is fiercely protective over his domain."

I couldn't help but smile at my friend's humorous tone, as he was usually quite serious. Philippa, on the other, merely scowled. "How was I supposed to know that everyone here would be a stickler?" she asked. "And it isn't as though I picked them for myself. They were for Mrs. Wallace."

"I see," Ward said, his tone becoming grave. "Well, then, that does make it better, doesn't it?"

"See?" Philippa turned to me with victory in her voice. "Even he understands they were meant for something good."

Was she truly oblivious to the sarcasm laced in his words? His tone was dripping with it. Ward raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as he applied himself to his meal.

"Sadly, Philly, this is not Ward's home, so he does not make the rules here," I told her. "Please ask permission before you do anything that will change things, even if it seems as small as picking a flower. You don't know how hard other people have worked to get Pearsend to where it is now."

Instead of answering, Philippa pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. "Good day, gentlemen," she said, without looking at either of us. She turned quickly on her heel and stormed out of the room.

"If my parents were still alive, I'd thank them for not providing me with a sister," Ward remarked nonchalantly. "I'm not sure I would have the patience for one."