His father looked down at his hands. “You saved your mother’s life. And that only could have happened if you coupled your strength and determination. I’m not sure I could have saved her as you did.”
Tristan scoffed. Who would not go to the end of one’s strength to save their mother? Who would not risk it all for the person who loved them without conditions? “Anyone would have done what I did.”
“Anyone might try, but not many could. You have a special streak of stubbornness that others don’t. I’ve seen it in the mountains more than once. But that day—” His father choked, emotion winning out.
Tristan shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like thinking of that day—when his mother was caught in an avalanche. When they almost died. When she became crippled and he robbed her of the ability to climb a mountain forever. “If I’d been better, she’d walk without a cane.”
His father shook his head, regaining his faculties. “No, if you hadn’t done so well, she wouldn’t be here at all. The cane is her blessing, not her curse.”
Tristan hung his head. His father hadn’t been there. Hadn’t seen Tristan’s fatigue. Hadn’t seen when he’d had to stick his hands in his armpits because his fingers felt like ice. If he’d been stronger, if he’d been better, his mother would have been out sooner, they could have gotten down the mountain sooner, they could have gotten to a physician sooner, everything would have been better, and her leg wouldn’t have been so mangled.
“The snow is what broke her leg. No matter what you did, her leg would be broken. But what you managed made sure it didn’t kill her. You performed an extraordinary feat, and I thank Providence for you every day.”
“It’s not enough,” Tristan said. “I’m not enough.”
“It may feel that way sometimes. I’ve certainly felt that during seasons of my life. Especially when I became a father.”
Tristan looked up. “What are you saying? You’re a wonderful father. Every single one of my friends wished they belonged to my family and not their own.”
“I’ve worked very hard to be a good father, and it wasn’t easy. Fortunately, you all have been exceptional, most of the time. But I think that’s how I failed you. The others didn’t need guidance for their lives. Not really. But you seem to need more than the others, and I don’t know how to give it.”
“That’s not true at all,” Tristan protested. “You haven’t failed. It’s me. What am I supposed to be doing? I haven’t a clue. I don’t have a head for numbers, or writing articles like Ophelia. It’s too much of a chore for me. I’m not good for much other than hauling bits and bobs up a mountain.”
“Plenty of men are trying to explore the remotest points of the earth these days. Perhaps you can attach yourself to those men. Help haul their bits and bobs. And soon you’ll have evenmore training. You’ll have done the Matterhorn. Only a handful of men living can claim that.”
Tristan frowned. “But that’s not a job. I can’t say, ‘Here, Eleanor. I’ve a life waiting for us. I’ll be climbing mountains, risking my life for another man’s glory. See you in six months. Have fun in London, all alone.’”
His father seemed amused again. “That doesn’t seem like much of a selling point, I admit.”
“See? I can’t very well offer for her when I’ve nothing to show for myself.”
His father’s eyes rounded, and Tristan realized what he’d said. He hadn’t meant to; it just came out.
“You want to marry Miss Piper?” his father asked.
Tristan’s leg began jiggling out of control. It was a nervous habit he’d managed to suppress over the years, but sometimes it still happened, no matter how much he tried to stop it. “I’m not sure.”
“She’s a lovely girl.”
Tristan nodded. “But she’s not aristocracy.”
“That might matter for some, but does it matter for you?”
Tristan felt like this was a trick. “Does it matter for you?”
“If you were wanting to marry a widowed dancer, then perhaps. I would worry about social climbers or fortune hunters. But Miss Piper has a respectable dowry. She doesn’t need our wealth.”
“But what about social climbing? Isn’t that obvious? I’ve heard that’s what Mr. Piper has been after for quite some time.”
“They aren’t gaining anything by marrying a second son. They’ll be closer, of course, and any offspring you have might one day marry into nobility, but it isn’t as if you are a viscount in your own right.”
Tristan blushed. “No, but I went to school with the boys who will be.”
His father nodded. “Do you think that matters to Miss Piper?”
Tristan thought for a moment. “I don’t think so.”
“Does she feel the same about you as you do about her?”
