Episode 4

As though entranced, Eloise rose to her feet and took down the portrait hanging on the wall.

Neatly combed golden-blond hair. Clear blue eyes. His large, round eyes held the unwavering conviction of a man said to have faced tens of thousands of enemies without fear, while his firmly set lips seemed to reveal the resolve of the commander who had once led an infantry battalion.

Emily, after seeing the portrait once, had commented, "Isn't he just a handsome blond man? I really don't see what the fuss is."

But because he was Ryan Wilgrave, to Eloise he was simply the finest man in the world.

Her father and mother both assumed that, having grown up in this quiet countryside, Eloise merely admired a hero who had earned glory in the wider world.

They weren't entirely wrong.

But the achievements she loved him for were somewhat different from the ones everyone else praised.

‘He always kept casualties to a minimum.’

Collecting newspapers that only reached Feltham a month after publication, Eloise had meticulously documented every one of his movements.

Where his battalion had been deployed.

Whom they had rescued.

And how many casualties had resulted afterward.

The 57th Infantry Battalion itself had suffered relatively few losses, but more importantly, the battles Ryan participated in consistently recorded noticeably fewer casualties than other engagements.

Occasionally, newspaper editorials criticized him.

They claimed that in battles where he should have advanced bravely, he had valued his own life too highly and ordered an early retreat.

At first, it had only been the complaints of a handful of people.

But after the war ended, when officials began reviewing everyone's military accomplishments for medals and commendations, those accusations resurfaced.

‘People's hearts are different when entering than when leaving,’ as the saying goes.

During the war, countless people had cheered his name.

Yet once peace returned, some even published statements saying they had merely been swept up in the patriotic fervor of the time and were now withdrawing the support they had once given him.

Others went further, scolding society for what they called the pathetic trend of young women blindly idolizing him simply because of his handsome appearance.

"...Ah, this isn't the time."

Realizing she'd become distracted thinking about those editorials concerning Lieutenant Colonel Ryan, Eloise smoothed the crease between her brows and hurried her hands once more.

Naturally, what she had selected were paintings of naked male bodies...

...with Lieutenant Colonel Ryan's face painted onto them.

‘The moment I get home, I'm burning every single one of these!’

‘First, I need to load them onto the baggage wagon.’

She hastily bundled the stack of paintings together with a length of string and lifted them.

Each sheet had been light enough on its own, but gathered together they became surprisingly heavy. The bundle was enormous as well.

Had it been anything else, she would have called for a servant to help.

But this was absolutely out of the question.

Leaving the painting room, Eloise quietly made her way toward the staircase, carefully muffling her footsteps.

The instant she stepped down onto the first stair-

"Stop right there, thief."

A strange man's voice rang out.

"Eek!"

The voice came from directly behind her without the slightest warning.

Startled, Eloise screamed.

At the same time, the foot she'd been placing on the step slipped, and her body lurched forward.

She should have thrown what she was carrying aside and grabbed onto something.

‘No!’

Instead, Eloise hugged the bundle of paintings even tighter.

Her body pitched forward.

Knowing better than anyone how solidly Blissbury's staircase had been built from stone, she shut her eyes, bracing herself for the pain that was about to come.

But-

Whoosh.

Someone grabbed her arm and yanked her backward.

As effortlessly as though she were a child's doll, her body was pulled upright and set safely in the hallway beside the stairs.

"...Huh?"

When the impact she had expected never came, Eloise slowly opened her tightly shut eyes.

Who had-

Then she saw the man standing beside her.

And in that instant-

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!!"

With a scream far louder than before, Eloise shrieked so loudly it seemed the entire manor shook.

A man in filthy clothes, his sharp eyes gleaming, was staring straight at her.

Even a beggar on the streets would probably have looked cleaner than this.

The sight sent Eloise into full-blown panic.

‘Who is he?’

‘How did he get into Blissbury?’

‘More importantly... is that really his hand holding my arm...?’

Her gaze dropped to her arm.

A filthy hand, caked with dried mud, was wrapped around her bare skin.

No matter how wild and free-spirited Eloise might be, she was still a lady.

In other words, she was hardly the sort of woman who could feel no shame after having her body grabbed so casually by a man she'd never even met.

"Let go!"

Still clutching the bundle in her arms, she swung it hard at his arm.

‘Thwack!’

The man released her and stepped back.

At the same time, the string tying the stack together snapped, sending the paintings scattering across the staircase.

"No!"

The instant she saw her paintings strewn over the steps, Eloise dropped to her knees and frantically gathered them up.

Fortunately, they hadn't scattered very far.

She picked up the last one and turned around-

"...This is Ryan Wilgrave?"

"...!"

At the man's voice, Eloise froze in horror and looked up.

At some point, he'd picked up one of the paintings.

Holding it in one hand, he stared at her with undisguised contempt.

"So you're not just a thief."

"You're a perverted, lecherous little thing as well."

"Do you spend your secret nights alone... entertaining yourself with drawings like these?"

Paralyzed by the humiliation of having her paintings discovered, Eloise couldn't immediately understand what he was saying.

Then, a moment later-

The instant she finally grasped the meaning of his words-

Not only her neck, but even the tips of her ears turned bright crimson.

Never in her life had she suffered such humiliation!

Not even drunken vagrants had ever spoken to her like that.

Eloise was certain now.

The filthy appearance. The coarse way he spoke. The utter lack of manners toward a lady.

This man was unquestionably a vagrant who had broken into Blissbury with ill intentions.

Or else he was a disgraced deserter!

The moment she reached that conclusion, Eloise didn't hesitate.

"Mrs. Parker! Mr. Warren! Mr. Palmer! There's an intruder in here!"

Her voice rang throughout Blissbury at the top of her lungs.

Thoughts of ladylike decorum had completely vanished from her mind.

Blissbury was a place she treasured as much as her own home, perhaps even more.

There was no way she could tolerate an intruder here.

Fortunately, she heard people rushing toward them.

Never taking her eyes off the man, Eloise grabbed a small stone statue standing nearby, holding it like a weapon, ready to use it if necessary.

Her actions seemed to puzzle him.

He looked her up and down as though he couldn't understand why she had called for help.

Just then, people came running up from below the staircase.

Looking as though reinforcements had finally arrived, Eloise pointed straight at the man and shouted,

"That vagrant-!"

"...Who is this maid?"

At the exact same moment, the man looked toward the newcomers and asked,

"Who is this maid?"

Both of them blinked in bewilderment at what the other had just said.

"...Vagrant?"

"...Maid?"

Each repeated the other's words as though they were utterly absurd.

The servants looked back and forth between the two, wearing thoroughly awkward expressions.

At last, Mr. Palmer was the first to grasp the situation.

After clearing his throat, he stepped forward.

"It seems the two of you have misunderstood one another."

"Miss Eloise, this is Sergeant Ryan Thornton, our newly arrived caretaker."

"And Sergeant Thornton, this is Miss Eloise Surbiton, daughter of Mr. Surbiton, the estate's steward."

At Mr. Palmer's introduction, the two slowly turned to examine one another.

Then, simultaneously-

"This maid is the steward's daughter?"

"This vagrant is the new caretaker?"

Neither voice contained the slightest hint of belief.

Yet both suddenly became painfully aware of their own appearances.

Eloise hurriedly straightened her clothes and tried to smooth down her hair, which had become little better than a tangled mess.

Ryan brushed the dried mud from his clothes.

It made very little difference for either of them.

When they faced each other again, however, their attitudes had changed completely.

Eloise gathered the hem of her skirt and performed a graceful curtsy.

Ryan placed one hand across his chest and bowed from the waist.

Each greeting was flawless, disciplined, and impeccably proper-

As though both were determined to prove exactly who they were.

The civility lasted only a moment.

Their manners remained perfect.

The icy glares they exchanged did not.

Ryan was the first to break the silence.

"Here."

"I believe this belongs to you."

‘This?’

Eloise lowered her eyes.

More precisely, to the drawing he was holding.

"...!"

The moment she remembered the humiliating picture she'd momentarily forgotten about, every trace of etiquette vanished.

She snatched it right out of his hand.

Her heart pounded wildly.

‘Please don't tell me Mr. Palmer or Mrs. Parker saw it...’

She hurriedly glanced around.

Fortunately, everyone else merely seemed confused about what had happened.

It appeared no one had actually seen what was drawn on the paper.

Just as Eloise began breathing a sigh of relief-

Ryan spoke again.

"You've clearly never seen a real man's body before, Miss Eloise."

His eyes flicked briefly downward.

Then he said,

"It's... not that small."

With that, he turned away as though he had no further business with her.

He strode off without another glance.

Mr. Palmer hurriedly excused himself to Eloise before rushing after him.

"Oh, honestly, Miss Eloise."

"I told you that you should at least have worn a shawl. And look at your hair—it's become such a mess..."

Mrs. Parker stood beside her, gently scolding that it was no wonder she'd been mistaken for a maid.

But Eloise didn't hear a single word.

Only Ryan Thornton's comment echoed endlessly in her mind.

‘Not that small...?’

‘What's not that small?’

Then, almost absentmindedly, she looked down at the drawing he'd returned.

"...!"

Her face instantly turned redder than an autumn apple.

In the picture she had drawn, Ryan Wilgrave stood facing forward-

Completely naked.

And below...

...was the part she had squeezed her eyes shut several times while trying to draw.

‘…That's considered small?’

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