Two days later, the summer festival arrived.
Unlike the banquet, Blissbury was bustling from early morning.
The Feltham carts filled the space before the manor well before lunch.
These were not the elegant, polished carriages that had arrived for the banquet.
There were public carts that traveled between villages, and others that still had straw lying in the corners.
Adults and children sat crowded together in them.
Anyone would have recognized at once that the villagers had arrived. But the faces of the people in those carts shone brighter than any aristocrat's.
"Eloise!"
Even before the carriage had fully stopped, the children sitting in the back leaped to the ground.
"I've told you before—that's dangerous!"
She pretended to be cross, but only for a moment. The children, clinging to Eloise's skirts, gazed at Blissbury with undisguised wonder.
One could watch from afar at any time, but approaching the manor was forbidden—except for children running errands.
And today, they were actually permitted to go inside.
The parents, descending from the carts, instructed their children with concern threading through their voices:
"Don't run. And don't touch anything without permission."
"Yes!"
Though they answered cheerfully, worry lingered in the parents' eyes.
At that moment, Eloise approached them and whispered:
"It won't be like last year. This time, we've put everything fragile away in the closets."
"That's true, but... last year they still managed to reach the eagle statue that stood up high—and knock it over."
"That's true."
Remembering last year's commotion, Eloise laughed and led the children to a maid she had hired in advance.
"If you want to run around, play outside. We've baked plenty of cookies, so eat as many as you like."
At Eloise's words, the children entered Blissbury with joyful cries, the maid shepherding them along.
---
Meanwhile, the arriving villagers approached Ryan to offer their greetings.
"It's good to see you again, Sergeant Thornton. I introduced myself last time—I don't know if you remember."
"Of course I remember, Mrs. Turner."
The woman smiled broadly at Ryan's response.
And when Ryan kissed her hand, she became flustered like a young girl receiving her first bouquet of flowers. Those around her laughed warmly.
The Feltham residents lined up to greet Ryan. The trouble was, they hadn't come empty-handed.
"These are from our poultry farm this morning. Our chickens are the strongest and healthiest—they're purchased not only in Feltham, but in Cambon as well."
Mr. Reed, who owned a small poultry farm over the hill, had brought four large baskets brimming with eggs.
"This should be enough for all the festival dishes."
Mrs. Brooks, who greeted him next, held a large wheel of cheese in her hands.
"Last year, our farm began making our own cheese. This is the first batch, aged for a full year, so I brought some for everyone to try. Of course, I've set aside a portion separately for Sergeant Thornton and the Blissbury staff."
Though she claimed uncertainty about her first attempt, impatience to have it tasted was plain upon Mrs. Brooks's face.
She had always been a skilled craftswoman, so the cheese was probably aged to perfection.
And so a veritable mountain of gifts accumulated behind Ryan's back.
Bacon, beans, flour...
Ryan turned around and laughed.
"With what they've brought today, the people of Blissbury could live for a year."
Everyone had brought the finest of what they had grown or produced. Ryan gained a new appreciation for just how beloved the Blissbury summer festival was among the locals.
---
While Ryan greeted the arrivals, Eloise and the maids hurried to carry the gifts into the kitchen.
She had also received guests at the banquet, but today the people of Feltham—those she had known for years—were arriving.
No one would have blamed her if she hadn't met them personally.
"Eloise! I'll help too!"
Andrew, delighted by the arrival of the village children, approached Eloise and took a basket of eggs.
But Mr. Reed had filled it to the brim, making it rather heavy for the small boy.
Seeing Andrew stagger, Eloise considered it dangerous and was about to reach out—
"Oh, looks like you could use some help."
A large hand from beside her grasped the basket Andrew was carrying.
She turned her head in surprise to find Richard approaching. He lifted the basket from Andrew's arms with ease.
In such circumstances, one would expect gratitude. But Andrew pouted instead. He had wanted to help, and now his role had been stolen.
At this, Richard offered Andrew one of the bottles of oil he was holding.
"I can't carry this anymore—could you help me?"
"Yes, of course!"
Having received a new assignment, Andrew immediately smiled and ran toward the kitchen.
Watching this, Eloise said with a smile:
"You're quite good with children, Sergeant Cameron."
"Just call me Richard."
"But—"
"When people address me by rank, it feels as though my superiors are scolding me."
Then he leaned slightly and whispered near Eloise's ear:
"Nothing good ever came of such occasions. Of course, I gave them plenty of reasons myself."
"I'm afraid it would be impolite."
"What if we simply became friends quickly?"
Having said this, Richard—without Eloise noticing—cast a furtive glance over his shoulder.
*Just as I thought.*
Turning forward again, Richard grinned.
Ryan, still accepting greetings, was already glaring at him with murderous intent.
---
From the very moment he'd arrived at Blissbury, Richard had understood. The reason Ryan hadn't returned to the capital—why he remained stuck in this village—was because of Eloise.
And after staying here two more days, he had learned something else.
*Eloise has feelings for Ryan too. That's certain.*
But apparently, neither of them had spoken a single word to the other about what they felt.
*I'll have to intervene.*
Richard knew Ryan's background and character intimately.
Ryan Wilgrave, confessing his love to a woman?
*That's no easy task.*
First, there was the enormous problem of his pessimism regarding his birth. Second, the fact that he had concealed his identity upon arriving here made him even more hesitant.
Besides, he had never shown interest in women before. Even if he did feel attraction now, he wouldn't know where to begin.
And most importantly—
Richard glanced back again. Ryan was still glaring at him. Even when a villager called out in greeting, he didn't turn his head.
Ignoring that murderous look, Richard deliberately took the other basket Eloise was carrying.
Though he lacked the courage to turn around, he could imagine precisely what Ryan's face looked like at this moment.
*If only Philip would help, this would be easier.*
Of course, Philip wasn't the type to assist readily. He'd probably tell Richard to stay out of Ryan's affairs and keep quiet.
But that wasn't why Philip wasn't helping Richard now.
As he walked with Eloise toward the kitchen, Richard caught a glimpse into the sitting room.
Philip—normally as impassive as Ryan himself—sat there with a broad smile, deep in conversation with someone.
Abigail sat beside the sofa, her crutch abandoned, listening to Philip's story with evident interest.
It wasn't that they hadn't heard footsteps. They simply seemed oblivious to anyone else's presence. They looked at each other and—for reasons neither seemed to understand—laughed constantly.
Seeing this, Richard, who had been about to call out to Philip, shook his head slightly and followed Eloise into the kitchen.
*It looks like I'm going to witness quite a few interesting things this summer.*