Although Blissbury did not have many residents, the dining hall on the first floor featured an exceptionally long and grand table, neatly arranged for a formal dinner.

Eloise and Ryan were having their evening meal at the far end of this table.

Mrs. Parker’s cooking was excellent.

Though Mrs. Surberton had once remarked that her desserts were lacking, that only meant that while desserts were a weak point, everything else she made was outstanding.

Moreover, since Eloise was staying in Blissbury for an extended period and even having meals there for the first time, Mrs. Parker was more enthusiastic than usual in preparing dinner.

As a result, the table was filled with dishes that were even more appetizing than the usual evening fare.

Yet, Eloise’s hands barely moved.

It wasn’t because she felt unwell or the food didn’t suit her taste.

It was because she was watching Sergeant Thornton eat right before her.

He was displaying an impressive skill—eating in a manner that was both refined and astonishingly swift.

With just a few movements of his fork and knife, the meat of the roasted chicken was neatly separated from the bone. A few more blinks, and only the perfectly stripped bones remained on his plate.

And it wasn’t just the chicken. The roasted vegetables drizzled with sauce, the gratin with its layers of thinly sliced potatoes and rich white sauce bubbling with butter, and even the spiced minced meat filling encased in pastry—every dish that Mrs. Parker brought out was devoured with remarkable neatness.

What was even more astounding was the speed at which the food disappeared.

Seeing this, Mrs. Parker finally decided she could not let it continue and rolled up her sleeves before disappearing into the kitchen again.

As a result, Mr. Palmer had taken over the task of bringing out additional servings for the two diners.

Watching Thornton’s plate, which was spotless—every bit of sauce wiped clean—Eloise spoke in disbelief.

“I heard you weren’t a good eater.”

Far from that; he was clearing the plates as if he had a ravenous demon inside him.

Even young men working all day in the wheat fields during harvest season could not eat as well as he did.

“I used to be.”

“Then why are you eating so well today?”

“I’m not sure myself.”

Saying this, Ryan reached for the basket of bread that Mrs. Parker had left on the table with a smile.

He was even more surprised than Eloise.

Until this morning, he had no appetite at all. And yet now, he felt like he could eat everything in sight.

That wasn’t to say he was eating sloppily. Even now, while conversing with Eloise, he maintained impeccable table manners.

One would expect such sudden eating to upset his stomach, but instead, it accepted the food as if it had been waiting for it.

He spread a generous amount of butter on a well-toasted piece of bread before adding a small amount of raspberry jam.

As he bit into it, the rich, nutty flavor of the whole-grain bread, the deep taste of butter, and the sweet-tart raspberry jam all blended simultaneously.

He wondered if he had been insane not to eat such delicious food before.

After finishing the bread, he turned to Eloise, who was still watching him with fascination.

“About that letter we were discussing earlier.”

At that moment, her curious expression crumpled into one of sheer distress.

Seeing her reaction, Ryan smiled. Eloise was surprisingly fun to tease.

‘Maybe it’s because most people don’t wear their emotions so openly on their faces.’

He had always avoided any kind of gathering outside of official duties.

However, as part of his duties as an officer, he was occasionally required to attend military-hosted banquets. Ryan had protested vehemently to his superior at the time, Baron Stanford.

“I’m assigned to covert missions most of the time. If I walk into a banquet and people start shouting ‘Ryan Wilgrave!’ how am I supposed to carry out my missions in the future?”

“Then attend under your mission alias. You only ever interact with other soldiers. Given how many of your missions involve infiltration, some are bound to occur in ballrooms. Think of it as part of your training to adapt to different operational environments. That’s an order.”

“……”

Having invoked his own missions as an excuse, Ryan was unable to argue when Baron Stanford framed the order in those terms.

Ryan understood why the baron kept pushing him to attend military charity banquets and similar events.

Stanford was one of the few people who knew about his connection to the Earl of Wallace.

That likely made him particularly concerned about Ryan.

He probably suspected that Ryan’s complete disinterest in romantic relationships stemmed from the earl.

To some extent, the baron was correct.

Ryan had no desire to start a family.

As the illegitimate son of an earl, he had always believed he wasn’t entitled to such things.

Perhaps that mindset was why, while his comrades tried their best to converse with women at social events, Ryan simply found it tedious and uninteresting.

That attitude carried over to banquets as well.

Other officers his age would attend such events and make every effort to engage the women present, determined to find a promising connection.

The women were no different, their hawk-like eyes scrutinizing the soldiers sharply.

Before long, they spotted Ryan and immediately flocked toward him.

“You’re Sergeant Thornton, correct? Which Thornton would that be?”

“Sergeant Thornton, what unit are you with?”

Just because he wasn’t interested didn’t mean he lacked an eye for beauty.

The women who approached him were all kind and beautiful.

Yet, Ryan couldn’t bring himself to feel anything toward them.

They were all ladies worthy of admiration. Even if he didn’t develop romantic feelings, he could at least enjoy a pleasant conversation.

As his colleagues teased, he had wondered if he was simply too picky—that his standards were so high that no woman could catch his attention.

But after attending a few gatherings, he understood why.

The women he encountered were too perfect.

They always walked gracefully, smiled gently, and spoke in soft, affectionate tones. They never interrupted a gentleman’s conversation and always agreed with whatever he said.

And so, Ryan felt nothing for them.

It was like looking at flawlessly crafted dolls rather than real people.

But that was only his perspective. The other soldiers around him regarded these women as the epitome of the perfect lady.

Since everyone else thought so, he had to keep his thoughts to himself. Besides, it wasn’t as if his feelings—or lack thereof—caused any real problems.

Then there was Eloise Surberton.

From the first moment they met… she had left him utterly dumbfounded.

First, she got caught with a n*de painting modeled after his fake portrait. Then, she made a face as if giving him a slice of apple pie was the last thing she wanted to do in the world. And, as if that weren’t enough, she took it upon herself to write him letters as if they had been acquainted for years.

By any reasonable judgment, Eloise Surberton was an odd woman.

She could never be called a lady—someone best kept at a distance.

And yet, as she sat there, glaring at him with a deep furrow between her brows, Ryan found that he didn’t particularly dislike it.

‘Maybe it’s just because I had a good meal.’

Perhaps the delicious food prepared by Mrs. Parker had put him in such a good mood that even Eloise’s expression seemed amusing.

To test the thought, Ryan imagined someone else sitting in front of him with a similar expression.

The first person who came to mind was Julia Ogilvy, whose name he remembered because they had spoken twice before.

If she were sitting there now, staring at him just as Eloise was…

“……”

His appetite vanished in an instant. Ryan withdrew his hand, which had been reaching for another piece of bread.

Eloise continued glaring at him before finally placing her napkin on the table and speaking.

“I feel terrible for Mrs. Parker, but I think I’ll have to skip dessert and head back. If I leave too late, the road home will be too dark.”

She glanced out the window. Part of her truly wanted to leave early because if she delayed any further, darkness would completely settle before she reached the village.

Of course, she had a lamp, but there were still rumors of deserters lurking on the roads at night.

It was best to return to Feltham while there were still people on the roads.

“It’s fine. Please take your time and enjoy dessert before you go.”

She had expected him to tell her to hurry along, but instead, Ryan gestured for her to sit back down.

“It’s not fine. No matter how long the days are getting…”

“I’ll escort you to Feltham. So, finish your meal at a leisurely pace.”

As soon as he offered to take her home, Eloise’s face twisted again.

Ryan chuckled and called for Mr. Palmer.

It looked like he would get to enjoy dessert after all.