When the two had finished their drinks, Philip brought over new glasses, this time carrying one for himself as well. He had sensed that Eloise and Abigail had wrapped up their conversation. He naturally sat down beside Abigail and joined in their talk.

Philip was a much quieter person than Ryan, but his stories about the army were more than enough to make Eloise and Abigail’s eyes light up. Tales of being cut off during battle and struggling to return to his unit, or of seeing ghosts on the battlefield, were so frightening that they made them shudder without realizing it.

Meanwhile, from the far side of the banquet hall, a very slow piece of music began to play, quite different from the lively tunes that had filled the air until now. It was a time to calm the excited atmosphere for a while. The young men and women who had been dancing so energetically withdrew, and the children who had been running around sat down on chairs, eating sweets the adults had given them.

But that didn’t mean the hall was empty. For those who weren’t confident with energetic dances, now seemed like the perfect opportunity. They took their partners’ hands and began to dance slowly.

As Abigail watched, Philip stood up.

“Abigail, would you care to dance with me, if you don’t mind?”

“Me? Really?”

Abigail asked in surprise at Philip’s invitation. Everyone knew about her leg. Inviting her to dance was, in a way, considered impolite. That’s why, until now, no one had ever asked Abigail to dance at a banquet. To be asked to dance for the first time in her life left Abigail at a loss, and she shook her head in confusion.

“I’m sorry, but I think it would be too difficult.”

“But you have no trouble standing without crutches.”

“That’s true, but when I take a step, I tend to lose my balance…”

“I’ll hold onto you,” Philip said with a gentle smile.

“You know all the steps, don’t you?”

At those words, Abigail’s face flushed. As Philip said, Abigail had memorized all the dance steps—not just the slow ones, but even the fast ones. Even though she knew she couldn’t dance herself.

“You don’t need to worry about falling. If I didn’t have at least that much strength, how could I be a soldier? So…”

Philip took Abigail’s hand and firmly helped her up.

“I’d like you to teach me the steps as well.”

With that, Philip led Abigail into the banquet hall. Holding onto him instead of her crutch, Abigail stepped into the center of the hall for the first time. As she entered with Philip, people looked at them in surprise—it was the first time Abigail had ever tried to dance at a banquet. All eyes turned to Abigail and Philip.

The music, which had paused for a moment, began again, and everyone continued their slow dancing. Philip started first, holding Abigail’s hand tightly and stepping in time. Abigail, unable to just stand still, moved her legs as well. Normally, she would have lost her balance by now, but—

“Oh.”

Thanks to Philip’s strong support, Abigail was able to follow the steps like the others. Of course, it wasn’t perfect. She wobbled a bit, and her pace was slow. But Philip matched her speed, moving gently with her. Among the slow-moving dancers, the two of them moved even more slowly.

But no one laughed at them. On the contrary, the band began playing even more slowly than usual, and those around them slowed down on purpose as well. At first, Abigail was tense and stiff, but gradually her movements became bolder. She took bigger steps, and her tightly clenched hand relaxed a little. Even her tense face softened into a faint smile.

The music gradually picked up speed, but Abigail didn’t tire and kept moving.

‘This is something that only ever happened in dreams.’

Dancing was something she could only do in her dreams, and now she was doing it in real life.

Abigail turned her head proudly to look at Eloise. Eloise was watching her with an even more joyful expression.

“May next year be as joyful as today.”

Recalling what Eloise had said earlier, Abigail took Philip’s hand again and moved forward.

It was her first summer gala.

…

Eloise watched Abigail dancing with Philip for a long time before noticing someone tugging at her skirt. She looked down.

“Eloise…”

Andrew, his eyes full of sleep, was clinging to her and starting to whine.

“I’m sleepy.”

He had spent the day exploring the mansion and running around the garden. In the evening, he had eaten endlessly with the adults and danced with them, so it was about time for a child to fall asleep.

Eloise picked Andrew up.

“Up you go.”

Until last year, she could lift him easily, but now he had grown so much that she had to use some effort. Someday—maybe soon—Andrew would be among those dancers, blushing as he looked at his partner during his first dance.

“Andrew, look over there. Can you see Abigail dancing?”

At her words, Andrew rubbed his eyes and looked into the hall, then smiled brightly.

“Abigail’s dancing now, too?”

“That’s right. She’ll keep dancing until the end of the banquet tonight.”

The music would speed up again, but Eloise wasn’t worried. She was sure Philip Osborne would help Abigail.

Then Andrew wrapped his arms around Eloise’s neck and mumbled,

“I want to grow up fast and be the first to dance.”

“You will. It won’t be long now.”

Suddenly, Eloise wondered where she would be when that time came. And with whom. She gently patted Andrew’s back as he fell asleep in her arms and left the hall.

When she checked the clock, it was already well past midnight.

‘I should take him to the children’s room.’

During the summer gala, the children always fell asleep first. Because of that, parents had to look after them and couldn’t fully enjoy the banquet. That’s why, at Blissbury, they hired someone skilled at looking after children every year, and even set up a special room for them to sleep in.

Thinking she should hurry and take Andrew there, Eloise moved quickly down the corridor—when suddenly, someone popped out in front of her.

“Ah!”

Even knowing she was inside Blissbury, she let out a short scream in surprise.

The person who emerged from the shadows was Ryan.

“Ryan?”

He was carrying several bottles of wine in his hands.

“What are you doing?”

“As you can see, I’m bringing up wine from the cellar. There are plenty of guests who don’t like beer. I can’t exactly ask the servants to do it.”

There were many expensive wines in the cellar, so only a few people had keys to it.

“What about Mr. Palmer?”

“He’s exhausted from running up and down all day.”

So Ryan had gone himself.

Watching him brush the dust from his clothes, Eloise thought to herself that he really was, in his own way, consistently reliable—from the very beginning, and in a good way.

Occasionally, guests of Baron Stanford would stay at Blissbury. At first, they would thank Mr. Surberton and behave politely, but the longer they stayed, the more they acted like they owned the place, making ever more demands and growing arrogant. But Ryan was different.

Unlike the other guests, he had come as the manager, so no one could complain even if he acted like a king here. Even so, since he was here to recuperate, one might expect him to feel entitled to order the staff around, but he worked harder than anyone—so much so that, if not for his fine clothes and handsome face, one might think he was the best worker at Blissbury. Even now, during the summer gala, he was working. Worried about the butler, he had gone down himself to fetch the wine.

“You’re working hard,” Eloise said.

Ryan glanced at the sleeping child in Eloise’s arms.

“What you’re carrying looks heavier than what I am.”

Eloise shifted Andrew in her arms so Ryan could see his sleeping face.

“This is Andrew, the youngest of the Ogilvy household.”

“I know. He looked glum all through the dinner because you weren’t there. He sat across from you last year and expected to do the same this year.”

At those words, Eloise kissed Andrew’s sleeping cheek. So he’d been sulky because she wasn’t there—how adorable.

Ryan watched her for a moment. As Eloise said, Andrew was a cute child, with the bright blond hair typical of the Ogilvy family. Then, suddenly, Ryan wondered: what would it be like if, instead of a blond child, she was holding a dark-haired child like him in her arms?