Bursting out into the sunlight, I was momentarily blinded by the bright summer light. I brought my hand up and squinted to get my bearings. After several seconds of intense blinking, my vision cleared, and I spotted my sister sprawled on the ground in the middle of the garden.

Before I could take a step, someone pushed past me. "Philippa!" Mr. Bartholomew Talbot exclaimed, rushing to my sister's side. "What happened? Are you well?"

Well. That was a show of emotion I wouldn't have expected from him. As he put his arm around Philippa's shoulders, I hurried to them and knelt down. "What happened?" I demanded.

"Give her a moment," Talbot snapped, without even glancing up at me. "Don't you see she's been hurt?"

"I'm not hurt," Philippa said, clinging to Talbot's arm. "Mister...Mister Fenwick. He just came running from around the front of the house. He grabbed the box off the table. When he saw me, he pushed me down and took off running."

"Which way did he go?" I demanded.

"How should I know?" Philippa asked with a scowl.

Frustrated, I pushed myself upright and let my gaze sweep across the garden. It was not large enough for a person to hide in and from what my sister had said, I had to assume that Mr. Fenwick wanted to get away from Pearsend. Which direction would he go?

There was a line of trees a few yards beyond the stables. A man fleeing the scene? Without thinking, I took off in pursuit.

Sadly, my boots were not the proper footwear for a race, but it couldn't be helped. I'd deal with the blisters later. All that mattered was catching Fenwick so he could explain himself.

As I neared the line of trees, my heart raced with the thrill of the chase. Branches whipped at my face as I barreled through the undergrowth, my eyes fixed on any sign of movement ahead. There was a shout and a dull thud.

Confused, I emerged from the trees to see Timmons and Fenwick grappling on the ground. The box was beside them, lying on its side. Gasping for breath, I finally reached them, chest heaving as I tried to decide how best to help.

"Stop!" I called out, trying to infuse as much authority in my voice. "Fenwick, on your feet!"

Of course, Fenwick didn't listen as he tried to shove Timmons off of himself. I lunged forward and grabbed hold of the first arm I could. With a heave, I pulled Timmons off of the man. Fenwick immediately tried to scramble backwards.

"Enough!" I shouted, pointing at him. All my annoyance and anger at the situation came boiling up. "You've been caught out, Fenwick. If you try to run, we will know that you are an unrepentant coward."

My words made him freeze for a moment. Then he scowled and rubbed his hand across his face. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I warn you that I am no coward," he spat out. "I ought to demand satisfaction for such an insult!"

Satisfaction? "I am not one to break the law to have a duel," I informed him. Bending down, I picked up the box. "Let's return to the party. I am very interested to know why you would try to steal the prize. Sir Harrow will no doubt have questions as well."

Timmons reached down, grabbed Fenwick's collar, and hauled him up. "Let go of me!" the young man snapped, trying to twist around. "I will not be manhandled in such a way! I have done nothing wrong!"

But Timmons didn't relent, his grip on Fenwick unyielding. "Save your breath for when we face Sir Harrow," he said sternly, giving Fenwick a firm shake. "Your actions speak louder than your words."

"And if you are innocent, you won't mind explaining yourself to everyone back at the party," I added.

As we made our way back to the garden, Fenwick's protests grew louder and more desperate. He tried to break free from Timmons' hold, but Sir Harrow's groom held firm, leading him like a captured criminal back to the scene of the crime.

All of the guests had gathered in the garden. Lady Harrow was seated next to Philippa, crooning over her as though my sister had been injured. Talbot was standing behind Philippa, his hand on her shoulder. Everyone's murmurs and whispers came to an end as we approached.

Sir Harrow hurried forward. "Well done, Mr. Bywood and Timmons!" he exclaimed. He fixed a stern look on Fenwick. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Fenwick's eyes darted around nervously, but he said nothing. his wife hurried forward. "It was just a silly jest, wasn't it, William?" she said with a brittle laugh. "You thought you could tease Mr. Bywood by stealing the prize."

"Your loyalty to your husband is admirable, Mrs. Fenwick," Sir Harrow said, "but that will not save him. I already know all. His actions have merely proven it."

Why was I not surprised?

"Y-you cannot!" Mrs. Fenwick exclaimed. Her gaze darted to the side...straight to the young Mr. Campbell.

What did he have to do with this matter?

Lady Harrow stood up. "I think this is something you ought to handle in private, my dear," she said to her husband. She glanced pointedly at the crowd surrounding us. "After all, no one wishes an audience when they are scolded."

"If something had happened, I think we have a right to know!" Mrs. Spark declared, her eyes gleaming with interest. "Why should we be exposed to a criminal without knowing the particulars?"

"Who said there was a criminal?" Sir Harrow asked, raising an eyebrow. "But my wife is correct. I am sorry that our pleasant afternoon was interrupted in such a way. However, we shall make it up on another day. Timmons, can you see that everyone's carriages are made ready for them?"

Releasing Fenwick, Timmons gave a nod and hurried towards the stables. He didn't look the least bit winded or fatigued from his brief fight with the gentleman. Perhaps, like me, he was feeling the rush of adrenaline.

"Of course, of course," Captain Campbell said, raising his voice. "Thank you, Mr. Bywood, for the invitation. I'm sure we all look forward to another occasion when we can become better acquainted."

As he spoke, he grabbed his son's arm and pushed him towards the stables. "I think we would all benefit from your son's presence," Sir Harrow informed him. "You are free to escort your wife and daughter home."

The captain and his wife exchanged looks. Mrs. Campbell shook her head, her shoulders sagging. Clearly, they both had some idea of what this was all about.

"Shall we go inside?" I invited, since none of the guests seemed eager to move along. "I will have Davison ensure everyone finds their way home."

"Certainly, sir," Davison said, maneuvering his way expertly through the crowd. "Would everyone be good enough to follow me?"

Ward, strangely enough, was the first to move. "Good afternoon, Bywood," he said, nodding at me. "Mrs. Spark, shall I escort you to your carriage?"

Thankful that he was taking the lead, I nodded in response. Naturally, I would tell him everything that happened.

After a moment's hesitation, the widow reluctantly accepted his arm. Thankful that he was taking charge, I nodded at my friend. Whatever happened here, I'd make sure to keep him informed.

He must be curious. It would be an unusual person if he were not.

One by one, the rest of my guests began to move away. Sir Harrow turned his attention back to the Fenwicks. "Will you explain yourself, Mr. Fenwick, or shall I?" he asked, his voice stern.

Mrs. Fenwick stood by her husband's side, her eyes filled with worry. Fenwick cleared his throat, straightening his coat before speaking. "As my wife said, it was a foolish prank," he responded, his tone almost pleading. "I never intended for it to go this far. I simply meant to tease Mr. Bywood."

"And why would you wish to do that?" Sir Harrow demanded. "Do you have a prior acquaintance with him that would permit such an act?""

Fenwick's gaze flicked to the side, and his entire body seemed to tense. Did he intend to run again? Before I could move, Talbot sprang forward and slammed his fist into the other man's jaw.

Mrs. Fenwick cried out in horror as her husband fell to the ground. "No gentleman would allow a prank to harm a lady," Talbot snapped, shaking out his hand.

"Oh, Bartholomew!" Philippa sprang up, her eyes shining. "Your poor hand! Are you hurt?"

Sir Harrow shook his head, but not before I saw the flash of amusement in his eyes. "Now that we have that out of the way, I suggest we all go inside. If I must tell this story, I insist it must be where I can be comfortable. It's become rather hot out here."

"We can adjourn to the library," I offered. "There should be chairs enough for the ladies."

Though as I glanced at the group that remained, I wasn't entirely sure I had spoken the truth. With Davison directing the exit of the other guests, I didn't have anyone who would bring chairs down from the drawing room. I could lean against the desk well enough, but the other gentlemen would have to stand.

Departing guests continued to cast glances back at us as we moved towards the door. Talbot had his arm around my sister. Captain Campbell kept his son from fleeing. It fell to me to get Fenwick back on his feet and I made sure to keep a strong grip on the back of his jacket.

"I'm not a child," the man muttered.

I'd guessed that he was not much older than me, but his behavior had shown his immaturity.

In the library, Philippa, Lady Harrow, and Mrs. Campbell sat in the only chairs present. Miss Campbell stood behind her mother, her fingers clinging to the back of the chair. Sir Harrow gestured for Fenwick and the young Mr. Campbell to stand in the middle of the room.

"Well," I said, leaning against my desk. "Why have my windows been destroyed so many times this week?"

"Because these young men thought they would be able to get the pistol box back," Sir Harrow answered promptly. "Dueling, as we are all well aware, is an illegal act. That hasn't stopped young, hotheaded gentlemen from doing so in secret, but naturally, they do their best to hide any evidence."

Remembering the missing pistol in the box, I shook my head. I should have guessed. There had been other young men at school that had been eager to prove themselves by engaging in a duel. I'd always thought it a senseless thing to do.

"Have I got that much correct?" Sir Harrow asked, glancing between the two young men in front of him.

Neither of them responded. Captain Campbell stepped forward. "Surely it is speculation," he objected. "A duel is not something that remains a secret. There are too many people involved for that, and I've not heard anything about a duel."

"I suspect it did not happen in this neighborhood," Sir Harrow explained. "William and Geoffrey were both traveling, were they not?"

"Yes," the captain said slowly. He turned towards his son. "What did you do?"

Mrs. Fenwick covered her face with her hands. Fenwick and Campbell glanced at each other before looking down at the floor. Without a word, they had confirmed Sir Harrow's supposition as correct.

"Which one of you did it?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Or were you both involved?"

For a moment, I thought they would maintain their silence.

"Fenwick isn't to blame," Geoffrey Campbell spoke up. "All he's guilty of is being a loyal friend. I talked him in to trying to steal the box while I created a distraction."

With a sob, Mrs. Fenwick threw herself at her husband. "I told you not to get involved!" she cried. "It had nothing to do with you."

"I am just as guilty," Fenwick said, putting his arms around his wife. However, he addressed his words to the magistrate. "I was Campbell's second for the duel. If you must take him in, you must take me as well."

With a sigh, Sir Harrow shook his head. "Why don't you tell me the whole story before I make any decisions?" he suggested.

The two men exchanged glances once again. Finally, Geoffrey Campbell began to speak. He recounted meeting a man in Brighton. "Not a gentleman," he insisted. "For no gentleman would say the things he said about a lady."

He'd felt honor bound to defend the lady, and the duel had been arranged. "I tried to talk him out of it," Fenwick volunteered, "but there was no avoiding it. So I agreed to be his second and made all the arrangements."

All of this was because someone had made a thoughtless remark about a woman? My first instinct was to laugh. It was ridiculous! However, then, I imagined someone saying something offensive about Miss Darkin. My hands curled into fists. I wouldn't stand by and let someone get away with that!

Mrs. Fenwick was still crying. "I tried to tell them not to be so foolish," she said through her tears. "But they wouldn't listen to me."

I felt a flash of sympathy for her, though her sobs were begining to great on my nerves. No doubt Miss Darkin would agree that dueling was a foolish thing to do. If I felt she had been maligned, would I listen to my own feelings on the matter or to her?

"We met at dawn," Campbell continued, ignoring Mrs. Fenwick. "Of course, I offered for him to take back his statements but he refused! He even said there was nothing untruthful about what he said!"

"You have not named him," Sir Harrow said to him. "Who is he?"

For the third time, the pair exchanged looks. Then, Mr. Fenwick muttered something unintelligible. "A little louder, if you please," the magistrate instructed patiently.

"Reginald Harris," Mr. Fenwick confessed. "He's not known here."

"And did he survive the meeting uninjured?"

Campbell rubbed the back of his neck. "I nicked him," he admitted and then continued in a rush, "but not seriously! The doctor said he would be fine after some time to recover! I did not set out to kill him."

"And yet accidents happen when pistols are involved." Sir Harrow shook his head. "I understand your intentions, but you both know that dueling is a serious offense. And, to make matters worse, you destroyed Mr. Bywood's property and caused a great deal of anxiety. You should both be ashamed of yourselves."

Again, I was reminded of all the times I'd been scolded by my father. Sir Harrow's tone was one of disappointment.

"We meant nothing by it," Campbell muttered, dropping his gaze. "I'm sure Bywood can afford to replace the glass."

"That is an ill-informed assumption," I spoke up, annoyed by his statement. "Glass is not a cheap commodity whatever wealth a person might have."

"I will recompense you for the trouble my son has caused you," Captain Campbell said swiftly. He paused and then asked, "I trust we can all put this unfortunate situation behind us?"

"That is not my decision to make," I responded, glancing at the magistrate. Being repaid for the glass was a relief, but I didn't want anyone to think I could be bribed into breaking the law. "Sir. Harrow? What would you like to do about the matter?"

For a moment, the magistrate just stared at the two men in front of him. "If you are willing to put it behind you, I will hand Mr. Campbell over to his father," he finally said. "Captain? You will see that your son understands the gravity of the situation he has caused?"

"Of course," the captain said with a nod. "A profession will use up the energy he seems to have for mischief."

Mr. Campbell flinched at his father's tone. I almost felt sorry for him.

"And will you be sending me back to my father?" Mr. Fenwick asked, just the hint of resentment in his voice.

"I will be sending you home with your wife," Sir Harrow informed him. "Look at the distress you have caused her. A gentleman who had some affection for his wife would not treat her so cruelly. I recommend you think on that, sir."

Hopefully, they both understood they had been let off lightly. True, the other participant of the duel, if Campbell was to be believed, had not died. It would have been judged a murder, and so, the death sentence as possible. At the very least, they would have been imprisoned.

"Well," Lady Harrow said, pushing herself out of her chair. "I'm glad we have this whole matter settled. What a shame that it has put an end to such an enjoyable afternoon."

The library door opened. "Pardon me, sir," Davison said, his gaze flicking around the room before he focused on me. "Your father has arrived."