As the sky turned to sunset colors, the Blissbury banquet hall was already filled with cheerful laughter.
When the orchestra readied themselves to play, the guests—as if they had been waiting for precisely this moment—came out to the center of the hall.
In the capital, the ball would have commenced with a quadrille, where couples form a square. But the capital's fashions had not yet reached Feltham, so they began in the old-fashioned way.
People lined up in two rows, facing each other: women to the left of the entrance, men to the right.
Usually, preference was given to the eldest. But this time, the youngest—those who had just turned eighteen—were permitted to dance first. And the very first dance was given to the young people of Feltham.
The girls and boys who had come of age this year were thrilled to finally dance at Blissbury.
Everyone understood. At that age, living in such a village, dancing in such a beautiful estate was an incredible stroke of fortune—the kind of thing that happened only in cheap novels.
Children waited until they turned eighteen and saved up to purchase a special outfit for that day. They dreamed of dancing with someone they admired. Of course, they also hoped for the attention of a stranger.
Unlike those overwhelmed with delight at the fulfillment of a long-held dream, the seventeen-year-olds watched with envy, hoping they too would stand in that place next year.
As the music began, excitement transformed into tension. Everyone lined up and swallowed hard.
The elders, standing behind them, watched with knowing smiles.
"I too, when I danced for the first time, froze and didn't know what to do."
"As did I. I don't even remember how many feet I stepped on."
As the ladies had said, the young men's postures—dancing for the first time—were terribly awkward. But in that moment, even clumsiness seemed endearing.
When the first dance concluded, applause filled the hall.
Fortunately, no one fell or collided this year, and the opening dance ended successfully.
Several years ago, a couple had confused their direction, collided in the center, and tumbled to the floor.
This had become the reason for their wedding—but they still blushed with embarrassment whenever the incident was mentioned.
To the sound of applause, the young people departed and were replaced by their elders, waiting for the new music to begin.
Participants of this age—those actively seeking a partner—were dressed with particular care.
And now Ryan was participating in the second dance.
The host of the celebration, regardless of age, had the privilege of joining the second dance.
That was why every year the Severtons, while dancing, would joke that although it might appear indecorous, they begged everyone's understanding.
When he had first heard of this rule, Ryan had mentally grumbled at what an annoying custom it was.
But now, looking at Eloise standing opposite him, he thanked whoever had devised it.
---
*"A summer party? I'll dance once, of course, but I doubt I'll manage more than that. There's so much work in the kitchen that I'll need to help. It's simply more convenient for me. Starting from the second dance, there's such competition for partners. Besides, if one can slip away, there's no need to dress up... Ah, Mr. Palmer! This way, please."*
He remembered this conversation from the preparations.
Indeed, Eloise's attire, as she had said, looked quite simple compared to the outfits of others—garments prepared with particular care.
*She probably didn't bother dressing up since she was only going to dance once out of politeness.*
*And yet...*
Ryan's gaze drifted over the other women's clothing.
Women generally wore snow-white muslin dresses at such celebrations.
At first glance, all the gowns appeared identical. But upon closer inspection, one could discern the difference in the quality of the muslin and the intricacy of the whitework embroidery.
Though Ryan was ordinarily indifferent to women's fashion, in that moment he somehow noticed such details with unusual clarity.
Eloise's dress was superb. It was only natural for the daughter of the most distinguished family in Feltham to wear such a gown.
But it showed faint signs of wear. She probably hadn't worn this dress for the first time today.
He recalled the gowns of the women he had seen in the capital before arriving at Blissbury.
Perhaps because many foreign goods had appeared after the war, voluminous silk dresses had begun coming into fashion there.
At the time, he had thought it excessive. But now he imagined that such a dress would suit Eloise beautifully.
Pale orange silk with a subtle sheen. Matching gloves and a reticule adorned with delicate beadwork.
Strangely, the image of Eloise in a silk gown appeared vividly in his mind.
At that moment, the music began. Ryan quickly collected himself and looked ahead.
First—step forward and greet your partner.
As he approached and bowed, Eloise said quietly:
"You dance quite well."
Then a slight turn, passing each other.
"Junior officers are required to know how." Meeting again, they lightly linked arms.
"I assumed that since you hadn't rehearsed even once, you were either supremely confident or had completely given up. Honestly, I suspected the latter."
"I'm sorry to have disappointed your expectations."
They exchanged the usual barbs. But both remained focused on the dance.
Neither wanted to appear clumsy. Neither wanted to accidentally tread on someone's foot or collide with another couple. Neither wanted to become a laughingstock—that went without saying—but there was another feeling, stronger still.
Both did not wish to show their worst side to the other.
At first, their tense bodies moved stiffly. But gradually, they began to flow with the light rhythm of the soft melody.
Passing each other with ease, they would immediately turn. Holding hands, they would take three steps together, then turn again. Their hands would separate, then come together once more.
And then smiles appeared on their faces.
They had both worked tirelessly from morning until night for weeks in preparation for this day.
This year especially—due to the absence of Mr. Severton, who always presided over the festival—they had worried there might be shortcomings.
But everything had proceeded without a hitch. Today's summer celebration was joyful and prosperous.
"We actually did it."
As they looked at each other, hands joined, Eloise spoke happily.
"Yes. Though we both threw ourselves into it with such enthusiasm that it would have been strange if it hadn't succeeded."
At the word *enthusiasm*, Eloise couldn't suppress a giggle.
One day, when their opinions had differed and they'd raised their voices, Mr. Palmer—standing outside the door—had asked anxiously if something was wrong.
Ryan, running a hand roughly through his hair, had shouted:
"It's fine! We simply got so carried away in our discussion that we raised our voices a little!"
From then on, whenever one of them began to grow heated, the other would say with a grin that they were *very carried away* at the moment.
At the time, she had wanted nothing more than to kick him in the knee.
But now, with everything having gone so well, the memory only made her laugh.
Ryan continued dancing, smiling. Even though it was their first time dancing together, their steps felt natural—as if they had been rehearsing for ages.
---
Soon they switched places and met new partners.
Eloise's next partner was a young man from Cambon.
He was younger than Eloise, and although he tried to be polite, he could not conceal the disappointment on his face.
Seeing this, Eloise smiled bitterly.
In all the excitement, she had forgotten for a while.
That she was a person who had long since departed the local marriage market.
Therefore, her dance partners—unless they were attempting to curry favor with the Severton family—observed only the barest rules of propriety when dancing with her.
When paired with her, they showed with their entire bearing that they were eager to move on to the next partner. At first, this had wounded her.
But the following year she had grown accustomed to it. Now she understood completely—and even sympathized.
*They wish to speak with at least one potential bride, yet here they must dance with me.*
So every year, under the pretext of helping in the kitchen, she no longer danced.
It was better for both her and them.
Every year, she simply waited for the dance to end.
But just now, dancing with Ryan—for the first time in so long—she had danced with genuine pleasure, thinking of nothing else.
Knowing it was rude, Eloise turned her head to search for Ryan.
At that moment, their eyes met.
He was nearby, looking back at her.
**As if they were still partners.**