*Drip-drip.*
Eloise lifted the lamp and examined the second-floor ceiling.
It was no exaggeration to say that Mr. Severton's house was the sturdiest in all of Feltham.
That was why, ever since Eloise had arrived here, only on the days of heaviest rain would spots appear in one or two places—but never enough to cause water to drip through.
After inspecting the second floor, Eloise entered her room, gathered the blanket and pillows from her bed, and went downstairs. Fortunately, there was no leak above the bed, so the bedding was in good condition.
Eloise descended to the sitting room and placed them on the sofa.
At that moment, Ryan returned from outside, holding a torch with a still-dancing flame.
He had fashioned it quickly from wood and oil found in the house.
Eloise handed him a towel she had prepared in advance.
He dried his hair—from which water was streaming—and tossed the torch into the fireplace.
The damp wood caused black smoke to billow for a moment, but thanks to the oil-soaked cloth, the fire soon blazed brightly.
He glanced at his clothes and clicked his tongue.
"Well, I tried to be careful, but I'm still covered in mud. I'll have to apologize to Mr. Severton when I see him."
Eloise chuckled at these words.
To save Andrew, he had torn his shirt—so he had entered the house bare-chested.
He told her not to worry, but she couldn't help it.
Eloise went into her parents' room and rummaged through the entire wardrobe.
Mr. Severton had been a scholar all his life, so he could hardly be called a man of robust build.
Every shirt Eloise found seemed too small for Ryan. Then she spotted one in the corner.
*"My relatives sent it as a gift, but it's completely the wrong size."*
Mrs. Severton had muttered this while pondering what to do with it. She must have been embarrassed to give it away—and in the end, it seemed, she had simply left it in the wardrobe.
Eloise handed it to Ryan.
Fortunately, it fit him. The buttons seemed about to burst, but where else would he find clothes that fit?
"I think I'll take off my shirt. I should wash off the mud first, then let it dry."
"If you go outside, you'll only get soaked again."
"You're merciless... Anyway, I'm staying here until dawn."
With that, he went into the bathroom and washed his shirt in the clean water Emily had filled earlier.
Hanging a towel around his neck and draping his shirt before the fireplace, he finally seemed to feel the exhaustion. Moving a chair toward the hearth, he sat down heavily.
"What's the situation?"
"I had a quick exchange with Richard. He confirmed we're safe and said he'd return at dawn."
"Is that a military code? How is it different from Morse code?"
Ryan chuckled at Eloise's question.
"Does that really interest you in a situation like this?"
"It's precisely because of this situation that I'm curious. I needed to think about something—otherwise only dark thoughts would fill my head."
*Fortunately, the landslide had stopped moving, and they were safe. The house had remained intact, giving them shelter.*
But this was only a respite. Danger still lurked at the foot of the hill.
So, to keep fear at bay, Eloise wanted to talk about anything at all.
Of course, she was genuinely interested in what codes they used in the army.
"I'd need the battalion commander's permission to tell you, but—"
At that moment, Ryan's stomach rumbled.
At the same time, Eloise felt her own hunger.
*Come to think of it, they hadn't eaten anything since morning. And they'd spent the entire day running about, saving people.*
Ryan smiled mischievously.
"I won't tell you for free. But if you find something to eat, I might share as payment."
"I'll fetch something right now."
Eloise took the lamp and immediately hurried to the kitchen.
Though it had been raining for more than four days, Mr. Severton's household could not run out of provisions.
Eloise opened the pantry first. Fortunately, there were no leaks. The relentless rain had made it somewhat damp, but nothing had spoiled.
*It's fortunate Emily always keeps things well stocked.*
Eloise quickly gathered potatoes, onions, and sausages. She also grabbed other vegetables at risk of spoiling and began preparing a stew.
They had been in the rain all day and were frozen through. Even though she was dry now, she still shivered.
In such circumstances, the best remedy was hot soup. One with plenty of hearty ingredients.
After pouring out the remaining milk, she added butter, coarsely chopped vegetables and sausages, and seasoned generously with salt and pepper.
Having assembled everything in the pot, Eloise returned to the fireplace.
Taking an iron stand, she hung the pot from it and positioned it over the flames.
Soon the contents began bubbling, and a delicious aroma filled the room.
Ryan, who had been sitting at a distance, quietly moved closer to the fire.
When Eloise went to the kitchen for plates and returned, he was already busily stirring the stew with a wooden spoon.
He must have been ravenous.
Eloise handed him a plate, took the spoon from him, and checked the pot's contents.
"I think we can eat now."
Eloise filled his plate to the brim with stew—the well-cooked ingredients steaming enticingly.
He picked up his spoon and immediately scooped up the contents. Blowing on the boiled potato several times, he took a careful bite.
Even though it was hot, he quickly consumed the stew, blowing constantly.
Ryan finished everything Eloise had served him in no time.
But judging by his expression, he was still hungry. Eloise refilled his plate.
To the sound of rain, beside the warm fireplace, over plates of stew, their bodies slowly warmed.
Eloise poured some for herself as well. Though she had made it herself, it was so delicious she could have wept.
After consuming his third plate without pausing to breathe, Ryan looked at the empty dishes and said:
"Have you always been such a good cook?"
"Not bad. It's just that Emily is so skilled I rarely have cause to cook. Now that Emily's gone to Blissbury, I'll have to do it myself until the new maid settles in." She paused. "By the way, would you like another plate?"
"I would be grateful."
Ryan handed over his plate without the slightest hesitation.
Eloise deliberately added extra sausages and potatoes.
"This is for saving Andrew."
He smiled at the mention of Andrew's name. Though it had been perilous, the child had been safely returned to his mother.
In the end, they consumed every last drop of stew.
---
In the quiet house—where only the sound of rain could be heard—over plates of warm food, it seemed as though this whole disaster were merely a bad dream.
And most surprisingly, she—who hadn't even wanted to think about him—now sat so calmly at his side.
*I thought that if we met again, I would feel only hurt and shame.*
The question she had dared ask with such difficulty had been answered with a cold *"I'll be leaving soon."*
Anyone else might have thought it a simple inquiry about his return. But from his expression—that momentary hesitation—Eloise had realized he understood exactly what her question meant.
So he must have seemed hateful to her for having so decisively rejected her hope.
But strangely, instead, Eloise felt even greater trust and calm toward him.
He could have easily departed with Richard. Instead, without hesitation, he had rushed to save both her and Andrew.
How could she hate someone who had saved her life twice?
When she gazed at him intently, he noticed and looked back at her.
"Is there still a scar?"
"No. It's just..."
After a brief pause, Eloise—without even realizing it—spoke what was on her mind.
"You look especially handsome today."
Having said it, Eloise immediately wished she hadn't.
It should have been delivered more lightly, more playfully—but even to her own ears, her voice had sounded far too sincere.
Embarrassment arrived belatedly. Despite hearing his answer, she had recklessly shown her feelings for him once again.
*He probably feels uncomfortable.*
*And awkward.*
At that moment, hoping to somehow amend what she'd said, Eloise looked at him.
She met blue eyes that gazed at her in silence.
A long pause stretched between them. After what felt like an eternity, Ryan spoke.
"Those words."
"..."
"If I told you that of everything I've ever heard from you... those words are the most precious—would you laugh at me?"
The eyes of the man who had said he would leave in autumn were filled with unprecedented warmth.