Summer has taken its first steps in Feltham. The rose vines with their still tender leaves were heavy with buds, and on the day when the eager buds first showed their red petals, the people of Feltham received invitation cards delivered by elegantly dressed servants.

The invitations came from Blissbury. People hastily opened the envelopes to examine them.

The village girls could not hide their joy, looking at each other with exclamations of “Oh my!” Even the dignified gentlemen smiled more deeply than usual upon reading the letters. Children hopped around beside adults who wouldn’t let go of their invitations, trying desperately to find even one word they could read.

That evening, all the residents of Feltham gathered for dinner talked about the same thing.

“Finally, Miss Surberton and Mr. Thornton are getting married!”

Indeed, the letters they received were invitations to a grand wedding to be held at Blissbury in the summer.

From the next day onward, whenever two or more Feltham residents gathered, they discussed the Blissbury wedding. It would surely be the grandest event they would witness in their lives. Going to such an honorable occasion empty-handed was unthinkable.

“What gift should we give?”

This was the most pleasant yet significant concern for the people of Feltham.

Everyone in the village knew that the Surberton household was the wealthiest in Feltham, and Eloise, who had officially received a medal from the royal family, was now highly honored. Sending unnecessarily expensive and lavish gifts to such a family would be as unseemly as a peacock showing off broken feathers.

Above all, the people of Feltham knew the character of the couple well. Whenever they happened to meet, the couple would express such gratitude for even the most modest farm produce, as if they had received something precious.

As if already aware of the villagers’ thoughts, from the day after the invitations arrived, Mrs. Surberton held tea gatherings at her home, inviting the village women. The expressions of those returning home after the gatherings were bright.

One of these women returned home and said to her husband:

“Dear, I need to use the servants for something else starting tomorrow. You should join too, so postpone any appointments you might have.”

“Something else? What’s happening?”

“Everyone is going fishing. Including you.”

“Fishing? So suddenly?”

Despite his words, the husband couldn’t hide the smile spreading across his face.

Fishing was his hobby. More than just a simple pastime, he kept several sets of fishing rods in a corner of his backyard. He prided himself on being Feltham’s best angler, making his own bait, researching techniques, and keeping detailed records of his catches.

His wife often complained about the fishy smell that wouldn’t leave their house after he caught dozens of fish, but he couldn’t give up this hobby. And now his wife wanted to take even the servants fishing?

Looking at her with an expression asking for an explanation, his wife smiled gently and said:

“Catch the finest silver trout.”

“Silver trout?”

It was a difficult request. Silver trout was a specialty fish of the Pohant province, including Feltham. No event in Pohant was complete without silver trout dishes. But since the recent great flood had swept through their habitat, they had become much harder to catch.

“Yes. Mrs. Surberton mentioned that many guests from other regions will be attending, and she’s worried about not having enough silver trout. So you need to solve Mrs. Surberton’s problem.”

His wife spoke with an expression half serious and half playful.

“So you absolutely must! For the honor of Pohant, and our Feltham!”

Her finger pointed out the window toward the river.

“Bring back the biggest silver trout!”

Her husband nodded at his wife’s words. That silver trout would be placed at the center of the wedding feast at Blissbury. His heart swelled at the thought that his catch would become the finest dish adorning that glorious occasion. He would catch it. The silver trout, without fail.

Thus, in every household, the determination to prepare the very best burned brightly. Someone rummaged through their cheese cellar and took out the large piece they had been saving for their grave. Another selected only the cows that produced the finest milk and filled jars with fresh butter.

In the orchard where the village festival was held, they picked the most expensive red plums that were just beginning to ripen, and someone else brought honey with almond dried fruits that they had been saving for years.

People happily rode carriages to Blissbury. When they arrived, Eloise, now officially the mistress of Blissbury, came out smiling to greet them. Behind Eloise stood Mr. Thornton, the very picture of propriety.

Despite having received wedding invitations, the village girls still couldn’t take their eyes off him. But no one blamed these girls.

“Doesn’t Mr. Thornton seem to get more handsome every time we see him?” someone murmured, and everyone in the carriage nodded in agreement.

He had been a charming man when he first came to Blissbury. The fierce demeanor of a soldier who had roamed battlefields until a year ago, along with his disciplined manner unseen in other young men. This was why not only Feltham girls but also town girls had visited Blissbury.

However, as time passed, fewer girls visited Blissbury. His cold attitude was one thing, but moreover, standing before him felt like facing a sharpened blade, inspiring fear.

While some might prefer that kind of feeling, the warm people of Feltham preferred someone with a gentler demeanor. Thus, more girls began saying, “Mr. Thornton? He’s not my type.”

But how different he was now! Though there were only a few entrance steps, Mr. Thornton stood right beside Miss Surberton as if she were descending from a grand staircase, holding her hand.

The sharpness once seen on Mr. Thornton’s face was nowhere to be found. He took Miss Surberton’s naturally extended hand as if it were the most precious thing, and his expression while escorting her respectfully was that of someone tending to the most delicate flower.

Miss Surberton beside him was the same. Her expression was brighter than ever before, confirming that the news of her long-troubling illness being cured was no false rumor.

“Hello, everyone!”

People waved back enthusiastically to Eloise’s greeting as she waved both arms.

Originally, an unmarried couple being alone together was considered quite improper. Thus, whenever meeting despite promising a future together, family, relatives, or friends would always accompany them, as was the custom on the peninsula.

But Eloise had been staying at Blissbury even before marriage. While the Surberton couple often stayed with her, they also spent many days at their home in Feltham. In other words, the couple was already sharing a home before marriage, yet no one criticized them. The main reason was…

The villagers’ gaze turned to the gate erected at the Blissbury entrance. Newhaven. That was supposedly the new castle that Miss Surberton had received from Her Majesty the Queen.

It was known that Eloise’s actions had prevented a major terrorist attack targeting the royal family. However, detailed information remained classified as military secrets. Therefore, the people of Feltham imagined the incident as they pleased.

“Anyway, it’s certain that she did something incredible enough to receive a new castle and even a title!”

Moreover, they said Her Majesty the Queen had permitted Mr. Thornton to use that castle as well. In other words, the couple was royally approved.

In this rural village, even a baronetcy was an extraordinary title, but when the Queen herself was involved, no one dared to speak carelessly.

Of course, not everyone possessed a kind nature, so while some might purse their lips in envy, no one dared to openly express such feelings.

The people approached Eloise, who welcomed them just as before despite having received a title, bearing gifts full of congratulatory sentiments.

***

“Ughhhh……”

After the villagers had left, when the sky began to turn crimson with sunset, Eloise collapsed onto the sofa with a groan.

Though it wasn’t behavior befitting a lady, Mrs. Surberton merely frowned slightly without saying anything. Even she could see that her daughter had been handling a schedule close to hard labor these days.

“Have you finished listing all the gifts received today?”

“Yes……. I’m truly grateful that everyone gave such wonderful things, but… haven’t they given too much?”

Eloise pressed her forehead, recalling the storehouse she had seen earlier. Everyone had brought so many excellent ingredients and processed goods that Emily and Mrs. Parker, though delighted, worried whether there would be enough space in the storehouse.

In the end, not only the maids but also Eloise herself had to reorganize the storehouse before they could barely fit everything people had brought. Even then, it was only possible because preserves that could be stored for longer periods were sent to the underground cellar.

“Indeed. At this rate, people’s storehouses will be completely empty before autumn arrives.”

Mrs. Surberton nodded, smiling. The generous spirit of this village was newly apparent.

Just then, there was a knock, and Emily entered.

“Miss! Mrs. Lawrence has arrived!”

At Emily’s words, Mrs. Surberton jumped to her feet. The moment she had most anticipated during the wedding preparations had arrived.