“That’s it? We’re going back inside?” Justine said behind him.
“Do you wish to learn about more snow?” This was his hope, but she was clearly uneasy, and he didn’t understand why.
“Yes,” she said impatiently.
“Will you tell me what is wrong? You do not seem yourself.”
She bent backwards and looked at the sky and groaned. “Why are you like this?”
“Why are you like that?” he shot back. Instead of answering, she glared daggers at him, which he didn’t mind at all, because at least she was looking at him.
“I really don’t like you,” she said, folding her arms again.
He took a step closer to her. “I think you do like me. At least a little.”
She sighed. “Lady Rascomb is worried about how appropriate it is that I go on these outdoor excursions that are not exercise-focused without a chaperone of some kind. It is not how a young lady is supposed to behave in England.”
“But Fräulein Bridewell disagrees?” Karl asked, thinking back to the whispering trio before Justine agreed to go with him this afternoon.
Justine wobbled her head. “In a way. She has realized that I . . . that I . . .” she trailed off.
Karl could have taken pity on her and changed the subject, but he was far too curious about what she would say.
“I do not admire many men. But I do admire you.”
He had been ready to stamp his feet from the cold, but he suddenly felt quite warm. “Admire? Is that a strong word in English?” As far as he understood, in English, one could admire a horse. Or a nice cake. Or a sunset. Did this mean she liked how he looked?
She scoffed. “Don’t let it go to your head. What’s the next lesson about snow?”
***
Chapter Six
If anyone could die of embarrassment, it was her. She had told Karl that she admired him, and his response was to ask a translation question. She’d never given an encouraging wordto any man in her life, and then when she did, he didn’t even understand her.
But she carried on, because what else could she do? Dinner was once again meat and some kind of brined and pickled vegetable. If she never ate another vinegar-based meal in her life, she could be happy.
“What did you learn today while you were out there with Mr. Vogel?” Eleanor asked, because bless her, she was trying to not talkaboutKarl Vogel.
Justine knew the minute they’d left the inn, the entire dining room had glued themselves to the windows to watch her and Karl hike down to the stream.
“I learned about snow,” Justine said. The silence of the table, full of her climbing friends and their mates spoke volumes about how little they cared.
“Snow conditions are important to understand,” Tristan said slowly, surprising her by being on her side. But then, he’d triggered an avalanche that almost killed his mother and had fallen through a cornice on Ben Nevis.
“I learned about rotten snow,” Justine said. “Had I known this sooner, perhaps I could have saved you and Eleanor from falling down into a crevasse.”
“It wasn’t a crevasse,” Tristan said.
“I didn’t mind,” Eleanor said at the same time.
Given how the two of them had ended up married after their travail on the Scottish mountain, perhaps Eleanor didn’t mind not knowing snow conditions.
“Anyhow, it is something we should all know. Just as Eleanor taught us all of our useful knots, we should also learn the snow.”
“But we’ll be hiking in July,” Eleanor said again.
“Snowy conditions stay year-round on larger mountains,” Prudence said, piping up for the first time.
