Ophelia prattled on about a few more details. Mr. Moon stood and reported on the finances and the investments. Tristan didn’t bother to listen. It wasn’t anything he cared about. Second son, and all that. He was the drone in this hive of bees.
“Are we done?” Tristan asked, straightening himself from against the bookshelf.
Ophelia frowned at him. “I suppose so. But I’d like to remind everyone to keep up their skills and fitness levels. The weather reports are showing that Scotland is experiencing a rather cold spring. We may have a bit of a slog ahead of us.”
Tristan crumpled the packing list and threw it at the fireplace, stalking out of the room. Why did he sign up for an adventure like this, when he could be a part of a real expedition? He was a member of the Alpine Society, something that only his father could boast being a part of. Those were the real explorers. The real mountaineers. Instead, he was babysitting his sister and her frilly debutantes.
He walked directly to Blakely’s flat, not far from his own. The man was just getting up, but ready for mischief.
*
Eleanor checked overthe trunks. She had run through her packing list and the trunks three times. Her heart beat faster at the thought of tomorrow’s journey. Tomorrow would be the farthest she’d ever been from home. And also the farthest she’d been from her parents. And the start of a new piece of her life that was hers and hers alone.
“I don’t understand,” her mother’s voice carried down the hallway. “Haven’t they been working towards this for months? Why would it take so long in Scotland to climb that silly hill?”
Her father’s grumbly voice didn’t carry through the walls as clearly, but he made some kind of response. They both appeared in her doorway shortly.
“I didn’t realize you would be gone so long,” her mother said, carrying a handkerchief in her hand, as if she might actually have been crying. Had she?
“I gave you the itinerary weeks ago,” Eleanor said. “Ophelia is very thorough.”
Her mother waved her hand in dismissal. “Oh! It was so long, I couldn’t be bombarded with so much information all at once! Nor do I feel that it’s fair for you to ambush me with this kind of extended vacation.” She sniffed and dabbed with her handkerchief.
Eleanor smiled at her histrionic mother. This was her way of saying Eleanor would be missed. “We need to be closer to the mountain so we can observe weather patterns. Not to worry, we are meeting up with a local man who knows the area. The Bridewells have been corresponding with him for months. He’ll be another member of our expedition.”
Her mother sniffed in disdain.
Her father looked between his wife and Eleanor, and then took the opportunity to change the subject. “I’m impressed you’ll be on the Special Scotch Express! What an achievement! Londonto Scotland in one day. My, oh my, that’s technology! Industry! Innovation!”
She loved that her father would rather talk to fill the void of his wife’s emotions than actually display any of his own. “It is. From Edinburgh, we’ll travel to the Highlands. Then a few days to acclimate and adjust our equipment, if necessary. It’s a decent plan.”
“Do you feel ready?” her father asked, real concern showing in his eyes.
Eleanor almost felt like squirming under this much attention from her parents. So unusual. But she also rather enjoyed it. Her waist was trimmer, her arms more shapely. She’d finally figured out the burst of joy and energy one might find at the end of physical exertion. “I do. I’m stronger than I’ve ever been. It’s remarkable how much more capable I feel than I did a few months ago.”
Her father looked at the ground and shuffled his feet, clearing his throat. She suspected it was to avoid showing the tears in his eyes.
“I always wanted to do something like this,” her mother said.
Both Eleanor and her father rounded on her.
“Why are you both looking at me like that? Of course I did. Something big and extraordinary. Make my mark on history.”
“Like climbing a mountain?” Eleanor asked.
“If it had been presented to me, I would have taken it. The best way to get out of Kent was to marry your father. So I did. It was the biggest adventure offered.” Her mother gave her father a doe-eyed look of flirtation.
A bittersweet twinge filled Eleanor’s heart. That was how love was, or at least, what she’d thought it was.
“Well.” Her father cleared his throat and turned back to Eleanor. “I hope you have everything prepared.”
Eleanor surveyed her trunks again. “I believe so. I’ve gone over the luggage three times.”
“Well, just in case you need something to distract you from your companions,” her father said, fishing something out of his coat pocket. “Here is something I thought might be diverting.”
Eleanor took the brown paper package from her father. It was clearly a book, but when she ripped the paper open, she couldn’t help the quizzical look on her face. “The Ingoldsby Legends?”
Her father shrugged. “It’s a new edition. Besides, it was that or a biography of Mary Queen of Scots. This one seemed more optimistic.”
