*Sergeant Ryan Thornton will leave Blissbury in the autumn.*
That was the conclusion Ryan reached.
He recognized what a peaceful and welcoming place Blissbury and Feltham were.
And also how happy Eloise was here.
Barring any unforeseen circumstances, she would continue living here—surrounded by a loving family and kind neighbors—happily ever after.
And Ryan didn't want to become that "unforeseen circumstance" for her.
He had agonized over this decision for a long time. But when he finally found the answer, he felt not a drop of relief.
*How much time is left?*
It would probably grow cold quickly once this rain stopped.
With these thoughts, he ascended to the first floor—and saw Eloise before him.
"Eloise?"
Though the sun had already risen, the clouds made the corridor dim. Ryan called out, wondering if he was seeing a hallucination conjured from his own imaginings.
"Ryan?"
Eloise's eyes widened, and a pleasant voice spoke his name.
"Why are you up so early..."
"I woke early, so I went to fetch water for tea. And you?"
"A similar reason..."
In response to Eloise's answer, Ryan shrugged.
"Would you care to join me?"
---
*Sh-sh-sh-sh.*
As they settled into the sitting room, the rain outside intensified.
The rattling of the window frames grew louder. It seemed the summer storm was not only refusing to abate, but would continue gaining strength throughout the day and night.
When tea leaves were placed in the teapot and hot water added, a pleasant aroma spread throughout the room.
Catching the scent, they looked at each other and smiled.
The tea Ryan was now brewing was the same one he had purchased from Mr. Wilson's shop when they had first gone to Cambon together.
After a while, the sitting room filled with the fragrance of tea.
When Eloise—deciding enough time had passed—reached for the pot to pour, Ryan stopped her and took it himself.
Seeing this, Eloise once again realized how different he was from others.
In Albion, it was customary for women to pour tea.
Therefore, if the task was left to servants, it was performed by maids. In the presence of the family and guests, it was done by the mistress of the house.
But Ryan seemed unconcerned with etiquette and poured the tea himself.
Eloise took the cup and cradled it in her hands. Her cold fingers warmed against the porcelain.
After holding it a moment, she took a cautious sip.
Was it merely her imagination, or had the tea become even more aromatic and richer than it had been back then, in Mr. Wilson's shop?
Taking another sip, Eloise smiled.
"This is the first time I've drunk this tea so leisurely."
Due to the demanding preparations for the celebration—and the fact that she still had a quantity of old tea remaining—Eloise had requested it be served during tea gatherings.
And when she had happened to drink it herself, she had been in a hurry and couldn't savor it.
She recalled with fondness that day in Mr. Wilson's shop.
*Back then, I think I was trying to avoid him as much as possible.*
Eloise glanced at Ryan, who was drinking his tea.
Perhaps he, too, had slept poorly last night? There was a faint weariness in his eyes that wasn't usually present.
"You seem to have slept poorly. Did something happen?"
"Nothing in particular," Ryan answered slowly.
And she knew he was lying.
Over the months spent together, she had come to know his character well.
If it truly were "nothing in particular," he would have answered immediately. Perhaps even elaborated.
Before, she wouldn't have cared whether he was telling the truth. But today, for some reason, his lie stung.
Though he was under no obligation to tell her only the truth.
Eloise, fidgeting with her cup, changed the subject.
"Your friends are probably bored."
Though Eloise loved Blissbury, she could not help acknowledging that for visitors from the capital, it was a dull place.
It was the largest mansion in the area, but compared to estates elsewhere, it was quite modest.
Besides, there were only beautiful rural landscapes around—ordinary villages and hills.
A place with no entertainment suited to gentlemen of the capital. Wasn't that why Richard had ridden out alone before the rain began?
If rain forced the guests to remain indoors, they would likely wish to return to the capital.
*Then Mr. Osborne might want to leave as well...*
He and Abigail had obviously grown quite close. They seemed to be still assessing each other, but it was only a matter of time before they confessed.
But if he grew bored and returned to the capital, memories of this place would quickly fade.
And then communication with Abigail would come to nothing.
"Richard, perhaps. But Philip, I believe, would prefer to remain in the mansion. So you needn't worry about them."
Having said this, Ryan looked toward the spot where Abigail and Philip usually sat and conversed.
It seemed he, too, understood perfectly well that a warm connection had developed between them.
*Sh-sh-sh-sh.*
As they finished their tea, the rain intensified further.
"..."
"..."
Usually they chatted about one thing or another. But today, both were silent.
Eloise's hand on the cup—betraying her agitation—moved restlessly.
Ryan watched her hands.
Just as she had learned his habits, so he had learned hers. When she doubted or pondered something, her fingers could not remain still.
*What is she thinking about that she's fidgeting with the cup like that?*
Her restlessly moving fingers froze. It seemed she had finally made up her mind.
Ryan looked up from her hands.
Before him sat Eloise, her usually bold face flushed, her lips trembling.
"I—I wanted to ask something."
"What is it?"
*What could make her so nervous?*
And then Ryan met her direct gaze.
*Oh.*
In that moment, Ryan suppressed the sigh that nearly escaped him.
His intuition told him precisely what Eloise would ask.
"Most likely, as soon as this rain stops, it will grow cold quickly and autumn will arrive."
"Eloise, before—"
Just as he tried interrupting to change the subject, Eloise finally voiced her question.
**"What are you planning to do in the autumn?"**
Ryan knew perfectly well what that question meant.
He hesitated.
The answer was already prepared. All that remained was to speak it aloud. But his tongue would not obey.
"I..."
Ryan cleared his voice, which had betrayed a tremor.
He had never been nervous in his life.
Even when the muzzle of an enemy rifle had touched his forehead, all he'd thought was that if he died, the mission would fail. He had felt no fear.
And now it seemed he was expending all his energy simply to produce sound.
He clenched his fist tightly. Through his closed fingers, the thrilling warmth of Eloise—which had delighted him all last week—crumbled away.
He answered in a voice firmer than ever before.
**"I'm going to return to duty."**
At that very moment, a brilliant flash illuminated everything around them. Then came such a powerful clap of thunder that the windows shook.
Silence swallowed the sitting room whole.
---
Richard headed to the dining room for lunch.
Usually there was a table set for six, but today there were only four places.
As Richard stared at the settings, Mr. Palmer—arranging the dishes—remarked:
"Ah, Sergeant Thornton and Miss Eloise have informed me they will not be joining us for luncheon. They said they are both feeling unwell and have no appetite for dinner either. I'm concerned they may have caught colds."
Hearing Mr. Palmer's words, Richard glanced up. Then he muttered so quietly no one heard:
"So... he said it."
---
Ryan—who had been locked in a monastery by his own father—had fled immediately upon coming of age and joined the army.
For him, the army was his entire world. The whole of the society he knew.
So no matter how drawn he was to Miss Eloise, it would be difficult for him to leave the military.
And the military leadership would hardly release him so easily.
*And yet...*
In the army, he had always worn an inscrutable expression—as if he didn't care whether he died tomorrow. But here, with his hair disheveled and drenched in sweat, he had smiled.
So Richard had understood at first glance: Ryan had finally found a place where he could remain—somewhere other than the army.
So Richard had deliberately lingered, speaking with Eloise or assisting her whenever possible, attempting to draw Ryan's attention.
And every time he saw Ryan watching him, he'd thought perhaps Ryan would stay.
But he still hadn't confessed his feelings. And Richard had begun to doubt.
Ultimately, Ryan had decided to return to the capital.
The reason for this choice was clear.
*He'll have to reveal he's Ryan Wilgrave.*
That name carried too much weight. And he probably didn't want Eloise Severton to bear it alongside him.
Richard sat down in his seat with a sigh.
Though this had been one of the outcomes he'd foreseen, he felt not an ounce of satisfaction.