A Sibling's Interference

Chapter Ten

After finishing breakfast, I had Phaeton saddled for me. Then, with Ward, I set out for the home of the local magistrate. While I wasn't sure what the man could do to help, I was excited to meet him. After all, wasn't it better to be on good terms with one's neighbors?

And just because I hadn't had the time to introduce myself didn't mean that I didn't appreciate having good neighbors.

Gravel crunched under Phaeton's hooves on the driveway as we approached the house. It was large and of newer construction. The front boasted large, symmetrical windows that sparkled in the sunlight.

Grooms ran to take charge of our horses as we dismounted, and then a very proper butler greeted us at the door. We were ushered into a bright sitting area to wait while the butler went to find his master.

"Is there anything I should know about Sir Harrow?" I asked, glancing at my friend. "What kind of man is he?"

"I would say he is a fair man," Ward answered. "Reasonable. He makes sure to hear both sides of a situation before making any decisions."

I eyed him for a moment, trying to read between the lines of his words. Was that the ring of personal experience I was hearing? I wouldn't ask, of course. If Ward wanted me to know, he would tell me. Well, I hoped he would. His idea of what I needed to know sometimes differed from mine on occasion.

It was difficult to gauge where I stood with him. We were more than acquaintances, but friend didn't sound right either. He had shared his history with me, but that didn't necessarily mean he trusted me completely.

Before I could inquire further about the magistrate, the door to the sitting room swung open. A man in his mid-fifties entered, his hand outstretched. "John Ward, it has been an age since I last saw you," he greeted with boisterous good humor. "You're looking well! When did you get back home?"

"How are you, Sir Harrow?" Ward asked, shaking the man's hand. "I arrived home last night."

"Doing well, doing well," Sir Harrow responded with a broad smile. He then turned to me, curiosity lighting up his eyes. "And who is your friend?"

"This is Mr. Lucas Bywood, who is the latest owner of Pearsend. Bywood, Sir Harrow of Mooresland."

"Good morning, sir," I said, offering my hand.

"I must say, I didn't anticipate someone so young taking on the challenge of Pearsend," Sir Harrow commented, shaking my hand vigorously. "But I can see you are up to the task."

I wasn't sure how he could determine that just by looking at me, but his confidence was reassuring. Many people were too quick to point out flaws and overlook the potential benefits of a place like Pearsend. And they though I was the fool for seeing the potential.

"I apologize that I haven't been able to come sooner," I told him honestly. "As I'm sure you're aware, there has been a lot of work at Pearsend that demanded my attention."

"A shame what that place has become," Sir Harrow said, shaking his head. Then, his expression shifted to one of curiosity. "Now, what brings the two of you to my door this morning?"

Ward gestured at me, so I said, "I've run into a bit of trouble at Pearsend. I was hoping you would be able to advise me."

"Well, that does sound serious. Let's have a seat and talk it out. Do you gentlemen need any refreshment? Tea? Or something stronger?"

As we sat down, Ward and I declined the offer. Once Sir Harrow took his seat across from us, I began to explain the situation in as clear and concise a manner as possible. It was impossible to read the older man's expression as I spoke.