And that wasn't all. The Great Feast was a day when families gathered. Spending that day together meant Ryan wanted to become part of the Severton family.
Eloise looked away from the veiled marriage proposal, uncertain what to do.
Ryan always expressed what he wanted in such a casual manner.
At first she'd ignored it—but when she thought about it later, she would involuntarily shudder and look at him.
And every time, he would meet her gaze with a mischievous smile. As if this were precisely the reaction he'd been waiting for.
This time was the same. When Eloise—at a loss for words—touched her cheek again...
As if repeating a lesson, his fingers traced over the reddened places where his lips had touched.
Eloise accepted his touch silently. The mere brush of his hand took her breath away.
Though cool autumn had arrived, it seemed as though summer heat had returned here—making it difficult to breathe.
Eloise still didn't know what to do or how to act. It was the first time in her life she'd experienced such feelings, the first time she'd found herself in such a situation.
And there was no way she could grow accustomed to it. Or perhaps she didn't want to.
They were together, yet she longed to be even closer. The moment he disappeared from sight, her eyes immediately began searching for him.
Even knowing where he was, she would go there out of restlessness.
She knew perfectly well how foolish it looked.
But the feeling—like the trembling haze of a spring day, spreading through her body the moment she saw him—was stronger and more alluring than the sweets she'd secretly stolen from her parents as a child.
And yet, she tried to restrain herself somehow.
So when Ryan called, she would sometimes pretend not to hear. Or, deliberately limiting herself to a brief, matter-of-fact answer, she would leave quickly.
But when she did the opposite, it was he—not she—who began to fidget and grow restless. And then, in a quiet voice so others wouldn't hear, he would whisper:
"Did I do something wrong?"
He would look at her with concern. When his broad shoulders sagged and he appeared downcast, she felt—strangely enough—that this large man resembled a puppy waiting for her hand.
"Eloise? Where are you?"
At that moment, Mrs. Severton's voice sounded from outside.
At the sound, they both—as if waking from sleep—moved apart.
"I have to go."
Eloise, after checking that her clothes weren't disheveled, asked:
"My face—does it look strange?"
"As always, wonderful."
His shamelessly brazen compliment left Eloise's mouth hanging open. Then, instantly flushing, she turned sharply and hurried into the corridor.
Soon she could be heard finding her mother and descending the stairs with her.
When her voice had completely faded, Ryan sat down heavily in his chair with a deep sigh. He dragged his hands over his face several times.
*What am I doing?*
It seemed to him he had become the greatest scoundrel in the world.
Avoiding prying eyes, he lured Eloise away and touched her.
Other libertines would have considered it a simple caress. No need to look far—Richard, nearby, spent his days in the capital doing nothing but this.
But for Ryan, such actions were indecent—something he could never have imagined before.
He knew intellectually this was wrong. Eloise was the daughter of the esteemed Mr. Severton and was herself a person of excellent character and knowledge.
So out of respect for her, he ought to behave like a gentleman.
But the moment he saw how her eyes curved slightly at the sight of him, not a single thought remained in his head.
Ryan bit his lip. He thought even a teenage boy would have more composure.
Knowing this, he should behave at least somewhat more decorously.
He shifted restlessly and looked at his hand. The hand that, until recently, had felt a warmth that had driven him to distraction.
He slowly raised his fingers to his lips, trying somehow to recapture the warmth she'd left behind.
His actions while searching for traces of her left him with only a bitter smile. It was the first time he'd desired someone so intensely—and the first time he'd realized he knew no restraint.
Ryan had almost no desires. He was one of those people who barely registered even basic human needs.
That was why he'd been a good soldier.
He could go days without eating and not feel hunger. Given a task, he could march for days without rest and not feel much need for sleep.
Since his fundamental needs were weak, he hadn't even imagined he could experience other desires...
*Damn it...*
Ryan, feeling a rush of blood, leaped up in alarm. Finding his body's reaction barbaric and vulgar, he couldn't control it.
Dwelling on this, Ryan felt disgusted with himself as his desire intensified.
*Am I truly such a beast?*
An excellent soldier, skilled in everything—yet the most awkward fool in the world before his first love.
---
The carriages were ready, and the people departing Blissbury boarded them.
"Safe travels!"
"Thank you for everything, Mrs. Parker! And you, Mr. Palmer!"
Though it wasn't their first time leaving Blissbury, perhaps because so much had happened this year, there were tears in Mrs. Parker's eyes as she saw them off.
Eloise waved until Blissbury vanished from sight. Only then did she sit down. There were tears in her eyes as well.
The Corps of Engineers had already restored the road to Feltham.
Thanks to this, all the deep holes formed by the downpour had been filled, and the carriages traveled without difficulty.
As they rode along the road—which had regained its former tranquility—people chatted. Ryan, naturally, rode alongside Eloise's carriage.
And in the carriage behind, Philip conversed with Abigail.
"We've arrived!"
Andrew—who had grown bored with conversations he couldn't join—spotted Feltham, leaned out the window, and could scarcely contain his joy.
Seeing the tents of the engineering corps outside the village, Andrew couldn't take his eyes off them. Tugging Mrs. Ogilvy's sleeve, he said:
"When I grow up, I'm going to join the engineering corps."
Mr. Ogilvy laughed heartily.
"Don't you want to become a soldier like the sergeants?"
"Hmm... I don't like weapons. They're scary. But the engineering corps builds bridges fast! And fixes houses fast! They're cooler than sergeants!"
Julia's eyes flashed at Andrew's words.
"What nonsense! The sergeants fought so bravely in the war!"
Julia, worried the three sergeants might take offense, glanced sideways at them. But all three—instead of appearing offended—nodded as if it were a matter of course.
"That's a fine dream. Creating something is a far nobler and more meaningful endeavor than shooting and killing enemies."
When Ryan took his side, Andrew stuck his tongue out at Julia, as if to say, *See?*
"The war is over anyway. Now everyone will have to rebuild what was destroyed. When you grow up, you'll have plenty of work."
When Richard agreed, Andrew straightened his shoulders proudly.
Meanwhile, the carriage pulled up to the house. Naturally, Philip followed the Ogilvy family's carriage. Richard said he needed to speak with the Corps of Engineers and returned outside the village. Ryan headed for the Severtons' house.
He took Eloise's bags and entered.
"Wait, I'll carry—"
"I'll take them."
Ryan, as if to say *what nonsense*, lifted both bags easily and climbed the stairs.
He entered Eloise's room as usual. He was about to descend when his steps suddenly halted.
Then, gazing at one spot for a long moment, he said to Eloise:
"I've been wanting to say this for some time."
He looked with displeasure at the portrait hanging on the wall and pointed.
"Are you going to continue hanging this portrait?"
He indicated the portrait of Ryan Wilgrave—with golden hair and blue eyes.