Usually at this time of year, the weather was summery—clear skies and brilliant sunshine.
During the day, the sun blazed so hot that everyone sought shade. But in the shadows it turned cool, requiring light layers—ideal summer weather for Albion.
Yet since yesterday, dark clouds had been gathering. Today, even at midday, it was so dim that lamps had to be lit.
"Looks like we're in for heavy rain," Ryan grumbled as he played chess with Philip in the sitting room, glancing toward the sky.
Julia, seated nearby, immediately inserted herself into the conversation:
"Sometimes there are downpours. I only hope it won't be too severe. I'm concerned about the bridge at the entrance to the village."
At these words, Ryan recalled the bridge they had crossed on the road between Blissbury and Feltham.
"Are there problems with the bridge?"
"Yes. It's quite old, and it's not stone—so it wobbles terribly every time the water rises." She continued, "We all used to fish under that bridge when we were children. It's shady, so there's no better place to play in summer. I was always there, too..."
As usual, Julia began speaking about herself.
Ordinarily, Richard listened to her stories.
But apparently even he had grown weary of her chatter. Early this morning, he had ridden off alone on horseback, saying he wished to explore the surroundings.
Because of this, Julia was left on her own and had ended up in the sitting room where Ryan and Philip were.
At another time, Eloise and Abigail would have been with them.
Ryan looked at the chair where Eloise usually sat and read. It was empty now.
While Ryan glanced away in disappointment, Philip was in a similar state.
He looked at the spot beside Eloise's chair, where a small scratch marred the armrest from crutches.
Abigail always sat there.
"...even though it's hardly befitting a well-bred lady, who could refuse to play in the cool shade? Therefore..."
As Julia continued her monologue, Philip interrupted:
"Did Miss Abigail play with you as well?"
"What? Ah, my sister... it was difficult for her to participate in that."
Normally, in such circumstances, it would have been natural to ask about Julia herself. But Philip—as if utterly uninterested—immediately turned the conversation to Abigail. Julia hesitated awkwardly.
*Knock.*
At that moment, something struck the glass.
*Knock-knock. Knock.*
The sounds grew more frequent. All three looked toward the window. The dark clouds had finally begun releasing rain.
---
"Ugh..."
Abigail tried to take a step but collapsed onto the bed with a groan, sweat beading across her forehead.
One didn't usually perspire like this at Blissbury, but the rain that had begun made the air unusually humid.
Moreover, lingering heat remained, so the slightest movement caused moisture to appear on the skin.
When Abigail began breathing heavily, Eloise quickly wiped the sweat from her forehead with a handkerchief.
"It looks as though this rain will last some time. Don't overexert yourself." Eloise cast a reproachful glance at the dark sky from which rain poured steadily.
Before heavy rain or snow, Abigail always experienced pain in her leg—as if it were being twisted.
So when Abigail began suffering, the Ogilvy family's maid would hastily clear laundry from the yard, and servants would drive the livestock into the barns.
"It's fortunate I can be useful in this way," Abigail would say jokingly. But after the rain commenced, she was in such agony that she could not rise from bed.
Eloise, knowing this well, had not left Abigail's side since yesterday and had been tending to her.
Technically, her sister Julia was supposed to perform this duty. But she kept leaving the room under various pretexts.
Eloise didn't point this out. She felt more comfortable caring for her friend.
*Besides, this is the first time she's stayed at Blissbury for such an extended period.*
She remembered how happy and excited she herself had been when she'd first remained in this mansion for a lengthy visit.
Moreover, Julia had Richard's attention to occupy her—and she seemed even happier for it.
Perhaps this temporarily moderated Julia's hostility toward Eloise.
"Eloise, I'm sorry—can you help me again?" Abigail, sitting on the bed, pressed her lips together and attempted to rise once more.
Eloise shook her head.
"Don't push yourself. What if it worsens?"
Hearing this, Abigail lowered her head.
She knew better than anyone that trying to walk at a time like this would only make matters worse.
But Abigail clenched her fists and tried to stand again.
*"Ow!"*
She eventually staggered and fell to the floor.
"Abigail!"
A frightened Eloise quickly lifted her and settled her back onto the bed.
"Why do you keep trying to get up? It's better to lie down and rest today—"
"I don't want to! I want to go downstairs too and—!" Abigail's voice rose sharply. Startled by her own outburst, she fell silent.
Eloise's eyes widened in surprise as well. Then, realizing why Abigail was so desperate to rise, she looked away.
A week had already passed since the summer celebration.
From that day, Abigail had remained at Blissbury.
Officially, she stayed to assist with cleanup after the celebration and to keep the guests company until she could safely return home.
There was no falsehood in that. But she was rested enough now to return, and the cleanup was complete. The temporary workers had all departed.
Only one duty remained: keeping company with the gentlemen from the capital.
Abigail fulfilled this responsibility with great diligence. The only complication was that she spent most of her time with Philip.
Though this could hardly be called a complication.
Philip didn't find her attention intrusive. On the contrary, if Abigail was not in sight, he would begin searching for her himself.
And over time, he had begun assisting Abigail as skillfully as Eloise.
Thanks to him, Abigail had been able to walk through Blissbury's gardens—places she had not dared venture before.
Though they walked very slowly and stopped many times, making the walk take several times longer than for others, Philip never showed dissatisfaction and remained at Abigail's side.
Seeing this, Eloise had tried not to disturb them when they were alone.
Nor had Eloise been bored.
*"What are you doing?"*
Every time, as if he had been waiting, Ryan would appear.
---
"Abigail."
Eloise sat beside her friend and covered her clenched, frustrated fist with her own hand.
*If you push yourself now, you won't be able to rise after the rain passes.*
"I know. I know, but..." Abigail clenched her fist in silence for a long while.
It was the first time Eloise had seen her friend so angry at her own disability.
She patted her hand in understanding.
At that moment, the sound of hooves echoed outside.
Eloise stood and looked out the window. Richard, who had departed that morning, was returning.
But the expression on his face was deeply alarming.
---
"Sergeant Cameron! Good heavens, you're drenched. Mrs. Parker! Please bring a towel!" Julia greeted him excitedly.
Richard dried his wet hair and face with the towel Mrs. Parker brought, then asked urgently:
"Where is Ryan?"
"In the sitting room with Sergeant Osborne—"
Before Julia could finish, Richard strode toward the sitting room. When he entered, Ryan and Philip—hearing his anxious footsteps—were already on their feet.
"What's happened?"
Richard answered Ryan's question in a grave voice:
"The water's rising rapidly. And it's not from the rain here." He paused. "There are dead animals and debris floating downstream." He glanced at the overcast sky and added, "It appears these clouds have already dumped heavy rain upstream and have now reached here. And now that it's begun raining here as well, the water level will rise even higher."
At these words, Ryan and Philip's faces turned grim.
All three were military men. When they considered the map of the area, they understood immediately.
**If the river burst its banks, Feltham would be at serious risk of flooding.**