“Pardon?”

Eloise momentarily failed to grasp his words. They had been discussing deserters, so why was he suddenly talking about escorting her every day?

“Wait, hold on a moment. What exactly do you mean…?”

“The preparations for the summer banquet aren’t finished yet, and there’s still a lot of advice I need from you.”

“That’s true, but—”

“Exchanging letters isn’t a bad idea, but as you experienced today, things progress much faster when you explain them in person. If we had handled today’s matters through correspondence, it would have taken a month.”

“…….”

He had a point.

Not only would they have failed to mediate the merchants’ dispute, but they also wouldn’t have been able to properly arrange the seating for the banquet.

Eloise recalled the tasks she hadn’t been able to complete today.

She had suggested handling the remaining matters slowly through letters, but… even she had to admit that there was too much work for that approach to be feasible.

‘Do I have to go there in person after all?’

Eloise thought back to last year’s banquet preparations. Not only her father but also her mother and Emily had stayed there for two whole weeks.

Even with all hands on deck, it had been an incredibly busy period. Although the staff at Blissbury remained the same, Ryan, unfamiliar with the estate’s inner workings, would struggle to make decisions alone.

“And since Mr. Surberton is absent, aren’t you essentially my co-steward as his proxy, Miss Eloise?”

Co-steward.

Eloise’s heart pounded at the words.

She cherished and loved Blissbury, which her father managed. But she had always been the steward’s daughter, never the steward herself.

Even if her father stepped down, Baron Stanford would likely send an outsider to take over rather than appoint her, despite her years of caring for the estate.

But now, in her father’s absence, she was acting as a steward. Not only that, she was recognized as a co-steward by the newly appointed estate manager himself.

Even if it was temporary, it was the first time she had been called such, and she couldn’t stop the corners of her lips from lifting into a smile.

Ryan, watching her reaction, smiled as well.

“It seems you’ve come around. In that case….”

He dismounted and handed the basket tied behind his horse to Emily.

“What’s this?”

“A dessert made by Mrs. Parker. Take it home and share it with your lady and Mrs. Surberton.”

At the mention of dessert, Emily’s eyes sparkled.

Though Emily had better basic cooking skills, her desserts always seemed rough compared to the refined delicacies from Mrs. Parker, who managed Blissbury’s well-stocked kitchen.

For Emily, the occasional treats sent by Mrs. Parker were like a glimpse into a more elegant and sophisticated world.

“Thank you!”

She quickly grabbed the basket, afraid someone might take it from her, and hurried home. Then she turned back.

“Miss, what are you doing? Hurry up!”

Judging by her enthusiasm, she would likely pop one of the treats into her mouth the moment she arrived.

“Go ahead,” Ryan said with a light smile.

“I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

***

Philip Osborne and Richard Cameron were well-known figures in the Army Headquarters.

Philip Osborne, for starters, was the second son of the esteemed Osborne family from western Wales. He had enlisted in the military as soon as he came of age.

With dark brown hair and brown eyes, there was nothing particularly striking about his appearance, but he was considered reasonably handsome with a neat and orderly look.

At twenty-eight years old, his most notable trait was his extreme taciturnity.

Concerned for his son’s well-being, his father had tried to secure him a position in the rear lines or within the capital’s Army Headquarters. However, Philip, as steadfast as his solemn demeanor suggested, disregarded his father’s wishes and instead sought out even more dangerous assignments.

This led him to the 57th Infantry Battalion. He silently supported his comrade, Ryan Wilgrave, until Ryan was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel. When that happened, Philip was promoted to Lieutenant alongside him.

No one dismissed his rank as insignificant compared to a Lieutenant Colonel.

After all, Ryan’s meteoric rise to Lieutenant Colonel at his age was unprecedented. In contrast, Philip’s promotion to Lieutenant at his age was still considered fast enough to make the traditionalists in high command frown slightly.

And then, there was Richard Cameron.

In some ways, Richard was even more famous than Ryan.

He was the third son of the Viscount Cameron family, whose estate was located north of Newham.

That alone made him a welcome presence in any social circle. He could attend any gathering without an invitation. If he appeared unannounced, people weren’t annoyed—instead, they would say, “What an honor to have such a distinguished guest grace our event!”

His warm reception wasn’t just because of his family’s immense wealth and status—it was also mainly due to his striking appearance.

No wonder his father, Viscount Cameron, had clicked his tongue and remarked upon his son’s birth, “He looks like someone who’ll make women cry.”

As if fulfilling that prophecy, Richard Cameron grew into a man so dazzlingly handsome that anyone who looked at him would involuntarily blink in surprise.

When he was six years old, following family tradition, he was dressed in a girl’s skirt for a formal event. The result? Children, both boys and girls alike, trailed after him in awe.

People even went so far as to call him “that pretty child.”

As he grew older, his height increased, and his frame became more masculine, but his striking features remained unchanged.

Because of this, women were always drawn to him.

Despite being the third son of a viscount, his close relationship with his older brothers secured him a barony. On top of that, he owned a sizeable townhouse in the capital.

By all accounts, he should have been considered one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. Yet, mothers with daughters recoiled at the mere mention of his name as if they had heard the name of a plague.

This was because his looks and wealth allowed him to entangle himself in a web of complicated romantic affairs.

At one point, he was involved with four young ladies at the same time. On another occasion, a fight broke out in the middle of Newham Boulevard, where two prominent young women grabbed each other’s bonnets and shook them in anger.

Incidents like these occurred at least once a month.

Eventually, people could no longer stand it and pleaded with Viscount Cameron.

“Please, control your son’s… lower half!”

No matter how much a father loved his son, a man of the viscount’s stature could not ignore such a demand.

“Richard! Get yourself to the army at once! Stay there until you’ve learned to control your reckless ways!”

And so, Richard Cameron was enlisted into the army.

Unlike Philip, Viscount Cameron requested that everyone in the military treat his son like any other common soldier.

Naturally, some of those officers had daughters who had been mere seasonal amusements for Richard, and they ensured he was assigned to only the most grueling and perilous locations.

It was a miracle that he survived at all.

Eventually, he was stationed with the 57th Infantry Battalion for an extended period. This was because he had been appointed Ryan’s adjutant, keeping him in place.

When Philip was promoted to lieutenant, Richard was promoted to second lieutenant.

“I should’ve at least made captain… Did my father pull some strings?”

“No,” Philip replied. “I think your mouth didn’t sit well with the higher-ups.”

Richard ignored the remark, grumbling about wanting to leave and visit the capital.

Despite their personality differences, the two got along well.

Perhaps it was because they had Ryan Wilgrave as their superior and friend.

However, Ryan had left for the countryside, citing his need for rest ahead of his impending re-summoning to the disciplinary committee.

They hadn’t expected him to send a letter.

Ryan wasn’t the type to wait for letters, nor was he one to write them.

Yet, against all expectations, a letter from Ryan arrived.

“He wants us to take his military measurements to a tailor and send him a new suit?”

Philip muttered in disbelief as he read the letter.

Richard, equally stunned, widened his eyes.

Ryan, ordering a new suit? And a proper formal one at that?

He abruptly stood up and snatched the letter from Philip’s hands, scrutinizing it from every angle.

“The handwriting is Ryan’s.”

Richard knew better than anyone how much Ryan despised wearing formal attire. It was simply unthinkable that Ryan had reached out to the capital just to have a suit made.

Still unable to believe what he saw, Richard reread the letter multiple times before finally handing it back to Philip.

“Philip… don’t you think Ryan’s got a woman?”