A Sibling's Interference

Chapter Twenty-Four

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.