Dear God, what else was it that he couldn’t see? That was his own mother that he’d thought so poorly of. He wished he could be out in the woods alone. His head was clearer there.
He stole a glance at Eleanor, who had been silent during the entire exchange. She was looking at her hands, a demure posture. Had she learned that at finishing school, or was it a habit learned from being ignored so frequently? She’d told him about feeling extraneous at her parents’ dinner table. About how she’d been forgotten at her father’s office, an afterthought for everyone.
Her confessions had come naturally as she’d taught him knots, overseeing his practice. The others were all there, doing the same in his mother’s drawing room, chattering as they tied the same knot over and over, committing it to memory.
Eleanor must have felt his eyes on her, and she looked up. Instead of glancing away, as she had every other time since that terrible breakfast, she locked eyes with him. Those soft, deep brown eyes that he could lose himself in. He understood now, he was fairly certain anyway, what had gone wrong. Why she’d rejected him so wholeheartedly. Did she understand why he’d pushed to remove her from the expedition?
It wasn’t because he wanted her to not be with them—no, of course not. But she’d said in the beginning that it was foolishfor her to do this. Why would he think she would mind being off the team? And still, he did need to protect Ophelia’s reputation, and really, Eleanor’s as well. He wasn’t certain he was ready to marry her—that seemed like a bit of leap. But to court, to really see if they would suit, that seemed reasonable. Manageable. And if they’d gone public before coming up to Scotland, even with his mother and Prudence Cabot along, it was too easy to slip away. Going out to the Berringbone ruins was one thing, given they’d brought plenty of staff, but to Scotland? That would make anyone think twice.
Besides, they’d needed Eleanor’s father’s investment in the expedition. If they were courting and Eleanor wasn’t going, her father would still likely give them the money. If Tristan ruined Eleanor’s reputation before they got to the Matterhorn, he doubted Mr. Piper would feel generous.
But Eleanor’s gaze was making his mind falter. He wanted—and that feeling of wanting overwhelmed him. But he couldn’t let something as trivial as wanting distract either of them. Not now. Not with the mountain so close. After Ben Nevis, he would beg, or grovel, or plead—whatever it would take for her to give him another chance. But now? He needed some air.
He pushed back from the table and was out in the cool air before he could think.
*
Eleanor felt unmoored.The days passed more quickly than she expected, each member of the party charged with obtaining different items or scheduling services. Eleanor had been charged with finding maps, along with Prudence, and together, they tripped along in Edinburgh, not doing nearly enough sightseeing for Eleanor’s taste.
In the evenings, they ate together in the downstairs dining room, attended by Mrs. Gordon and Beverly. The men working at the inn seemed to all be outside caretakers, and Eleanor wondered if that was another reason this particular establishment was chosen for them. After dinner, they separated and retired to their respective parlors. Eleanor and the other women changed into dressing gowns, took the pins out of their hair, and talked and chatted while indulging in cups of tea. It built camaraderie for them, but she always wondered how Tristan fared, downstairs, with only his father for company.
He hadn’t spoken directly to her, but he gave her meaningful looks across the table that confused her. The hurt of his betrayal hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had increased as they sat in close quarters, planning for an adventure he hadn’t wanted her to go on.
Seven days after their arrival, they boarded an early morning train for the Highlands. They left most of their luggage with Mrs. Gordon, as climbing the Ben, as the locals seemed to call it, was a one-day affair. They would be back in just a few days. Armed with a small trunk, shared with Prudence, they boarded. It was a surprisingly luxurious affair, but when they reached the end of the line, they had to collect their belongings and board a ferry, which was a decided downgrade in experience. The air grew colder and wetter. She drew her coat and scarf around her tighter to guard against the cold.
The scenery was breathtaking. Despite the fact that spring was barely noticeable, and the cold pervasive, the impressive, rugged landscape bewitched her.
“Climbin’ the ol’ Ben, are you?” the ferry master chuckled at them. Eleanor didn’t know how he knew, but the ferry master had a comment for every single one of them. He clearly didn’t believe women had any business climbing a mountain, and menonly did so because they were, as the ferry master said, his bushy white eyebrows raised, daft.
“Positively raving,” Tristan said with a brilliant smile. Eleanor felt herself smiling in response, even if it wasn’t aimed at her. She looked away before he caught her at it, embarrassed that she could be so swept up by him.
They passed by what looked like a ghost town, buildings left in place, but absolutely no people in sight. White sheep dotted the landscape, looking like bits of cotton strewn about a yard.
They arrived in Fort William, cold and tired. Beverly’s brother met them at the shabby dock, much to their collective relief. It was twilight, and they were all cold. The thin-walled shelter of the boat had kept them out of the wind, but was not warm. Instead of meeting them with a carriage and strapping trunks in intricate puzzles about the conveyance, Beverly’s brother had an open-air wagon. They all climbed in, their trunks laid at their feet, and off they went to the inn, run by another of young Beverly’s relatives.
As expected, Eleanor and Prudence roomed together, while Ophelia and Justine took another. Lord and Lady Rascomb took the master suite and Tristan was bunked alone. The rooms were spare but clean, and now, having arrived in the Highlands, the idea of staying indoors seemed absurd. It was freezing outside, but the light lingered, so Eleanor grabbed her cloak and climbing gloves and went outside, not bothering to unpack her portion of the small trunk.
It had rained earlier in the day, and the air was crisp enough that it felt like skating on a knife’s edge. The water was nearby, and the mountains loomed in the distance. The sky, dotted with white and gray clouds, was turning a soft lavender, a different color than she’d ever witnessed in England. The world felt different here. The air was better. She felt unlike herself, and also completely herself for the very first time.
Rough footsteps crunched behind her on the stony path. She didn’t bother to turn, as she could already tell who it was.
“This is beautiful,” Tristan said.
Eleanor didn’t want to look away from the grandeur and the beauty of the loch and the mountains and the sky, even for the beauty that made up Tristan’s delightfully symmetrical and golden face.
“I never knew places like this existed,” Eleanor said, her breath curling into steam as it left her mouth.
“The world is vast,” Tristan said. “There are things no one can imagine, and yet they exist.”
Eleanor smiled and couldn’t help but tease. “Then how do you know they exist if you can’t imagine them?”
Tristan looked deep into her eyes, pinning her in a way that surprised her. Was it this place? Was it him? What made this pull between them feel like a slip knot that cinched tighter and tighter, never loosening? “Because some days I look up to find something I’ve never seen before. Felt before. Wanted before.”
Eleanor swallowed hard.
“Eleanor, I know what I did was—” His perfect face creased, the worry spilling out into his expression. “I shouldn’t have assumed you didn’t want to climb. Of all people, I should know not to force a woman to choose between adventure and a man. But I was so—well, giddy at the thought of you. I apologize. It was boorish and unforgiveable.”
Heat flushed through her. No one had ever apologized to her. She didn’t know what to say. Her mouth opened and closed. Was this still possible between them? Could they—
