The summer celebration ended successfully.
The villagers—who had not only danced all night but also drunk, laughed, and chatted until dawn—gathered their children and loaded them into the carriages.
Their faces showed fatigue, but their expressions were bright.
They seemed to have cast off the burden of accumulated worries and felt a sense of profound relief.
The summer celebration would now provide talking points for the entire year, helping the people of Feltham and Cambon endure the monotony of everyday life.
Those with long journeys ahead departed first. The rest leisurely prepared for their departure, enjoying breakfast and lunch in the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Ryan was running tirelessly in the backyard with the children who had woken early, playing ball and tag.
"Sergeant Thornton seems quite fond of children. Still, as a military man, he ought to maintain some dignity," muttered one of the older guests, frowning disapprovingly at the sight of Ryan running and laughing with the youngsters.
But unlike the older men, the faces of the ladies and young women lit up.
At the dinner party—due to the arrival of his friends—not a single woman had sat across from him. Yesterday at the ball, though he had partnered with Eloise for the first dance, it was clearly only in his capacity as steward and assistant.
After that, no one saw them dance together. In fact, Sergeant Thornton hadn't even ventured to the center of the room to dance, but instead conversed with the guests.
Seeing this, the young ladies recalled anew the purpose of their visit.
*Get a little closer to Sergeant Thornton.*
"If he loves children so much, it means he has the intention of marrying," one of the ladies remarked. The young women's smiles grew even wider.
At the same time, everyone became convinced: Eloise was definitely not within his sphere of interest.
---
By midday, most of the guests had departed.
But this year, unlike last, there was a guest remaining at the mansion: Abigail.
She had perhaps overdone it in the excitement of her first dance. The next day she experienced such weakness in her legs that she could scarcely sit upright.
A doctor from Cambon, who had also attended the celebration, examined Abigail and declared it was simply from the unusual exertion. He advised—if there was no pressing matter—that she rest for a few days at Blissbury.
Besides, there was already little room in the carriage.
And, most importantly, it was obvious that a warm connection was developing between Abigail and Philip.
Mrs. Ogilvy tried to conceal her delight, but no one could miss that the corners of her lips had been turned upward all day.
The only complication was an unwanted additional guest.
Julia.
"If my sister is left alone, there will be no one to look after her. Eloise will be occupied with cleaning up after the celebration, and most of the temporary maids will have departed. So I shall stay and care for her," Julia said, pleading with Mrs. Ogilvy as if unwilling to miss this opportunity.
Mrs. Ogilvy herself was quite keen for Julia to remain at Blissbury.
And it was understandable.
*If Abigail is left alone, rumors might begin.*
After Julia's broken engagement, Mrs. Ogilvy had become far more cautious in all matters.
Once was enough to find herself in an awkward position.
*It would be wonderful if things progressed with Sergeant Osborne, but we must also consider the possibility they won't...*
It was unclear whether Philip's attention toward Abigail stemmed from sympathy for someone with a disability or genuine attraction.
In any case, if Philip's interest proved fleeting, it was necessary to prepare in advance to present their relationship as light summer socializing.
For this, it was better to have Julia nearby.
If the sisters were together, then even if Abigail and Philip spent considerable time together and grew close, it would appear as cultured and elegant companionship.
Of course, Mrs. Ogilvy wanted Julia to remain—not only out of concern for Abigail.
At both the dinner party and the ball, Ryan had shown scant interest in anyone.
This could have been disappointing. But on the other hand, it meant everyone still had a chance.
*It seems Sergeant Thornton has no plans to return to the capital just yet.*
If he'd been planning to leave, he would have mentioned it at dinner. But no such words were uttered. Moreover, rumor had it he was already quietly preparing for winter.
*Clearly, he has taken to Blissbury.*
People who can't tolerate village life don't last a week before fleeing. But he'd been here for several months now and was thriving. Even his complexion was noticeably healthier than when he'd arrived, and he'd made friends with the locals.
*He will surely remain as manager.*
So if Julia received another opportunity...
With such high hopes, Mrs. Ogilvy departed for home with the rest of the family—barely managing to comfort Andrew, who had been weeping since their departure and also wished to remain at Blissbury.
---
After the celebration, the mansion was anything but quiet.
"Have you counted all the silverware?"
"We've checked—one spoon is missing."
"Then search the drawer with the everyday cutlery first. After that, scour the entire kitchen floor again. Last year, one was found in the straw."
The missing silver had to be located.
"Miss Eloise, there's a stain on the curtain."
"Looks like one of the children was playing. I was planning to wash everything anyway, so take down all the curtains on this wall today and hang the thick red ones instead."
Traces of the celebration throughout the mansion had to be cleaned.
"The statues didn't crack? Nothing chipped off?"
"There are children's fingerprints left on this marble statue."
"Oh, those scoundrels..."
The decorations, gathered in one place, had to be returned to their proper locations.
Ryan worked beside Eloise, helping with the cleaning and asking where things should go.
Simple tasks that could be done while seated were assigned to Abigail and Philip, as Eloise and Ryan had to move about constantly.
"Here, write it like this," Abigail showed Philip a thank-you letter Eloise had drafted in advance.
After the celebration, Blissbury's manager traditionally sent thank-you cards to the guests.
Abigail and Philip endeavored to replicate Eloise's handwriting as closely as possible when copying the letters of gratitude.
Unlike these four, who were occupied with work, there were also those enjoying leisure.
Richard and Julia.
"So, Sergeant Cameron resides in the capital?"
"Yes, because my home is there," Richard answered casually, then added: "But it's near Serpentine Street—far too noisy there, so I'm considering moving."
Hearing this street name from Richard's lips, Julia's eyes sparkled.
Even those who had never visited the capital knew the name. It was the most luxurious and vibrant street in the entire city.
Thus Serpentine Street had become a symbol of the capital's prosperity.
Majestic mansions. Expensive carriages passing by. Distinguished persons alighting from them.
Weren't the Royal Palace and Serpentine Street the places visitors to the capital most longed to see?
And he owned a house there.
Julia glanced sideways at Richard.
He was handsome—but in a different manner than Ryan. Unlike Ryan, who possessed a certain sternness, Richard had the polished elegance of a man long accustomed to circulating in the capital's social circles.
But without a fortune, attractiveness didn't matter. So although she had been pleasant to him, she had maintained her distance.
And then there was the house on Serpentine Street.
Julia took a subtle step closer to Richard.
And Richard, observing her, sighed mentally.
*If only these two knew how much I'm protecting their precious time right now.*
He turned his head and looked toward Blissbury.
Since early morning, Ryan had been with Eloise. Philip had been with Abigail.
And if he had left Julia to her own devices, she would certainly have tried to wedge herself into one of those pairs.
*I need to help them before I depart. Besides, I was bored anyway—so it's even for the best.*
---
But a few days later, everyone at Blissbury looked at the sky with grim faces and said:
**"The weather looks rather unsettled."**