“Warum ist das Zimmer kalt?” came a low voice.
Without speaking, Justine slipped outside as Karl shut the door. “Onkel, warum bist du noch wach?”
“Es ist kalt!”
Justine couldn’t hear them as the door shut completely. She stepped further away from the door and caught sight of the night sky. It was teeming with stars that she’d never seen in England. The moon was big and heavy like an expensive pearl. The specks of stars dusting the sky numbered far more than she ever expected. It was a cool night, but she no longer cared. Not when this experience, this sight, had been hidden from her view.
The night sky in the English countryside was beautiful, yes, and far more dense with stars than that in London, but it was nothing compared to this, framed by the white mountain peaks. The stars were in whorls of other colors, and the variety in size and shape astounded her. Why had no one told her this was here the whole time? She’d been here months, and no one had once suggested walking outside when it was dark. Women were ushered up to bed after dinner, never having the opportunity to step outside. The men did so in order to smoke, but a well-bred lady didn’t smoke.
Maybe she’d take up the nasty habit if it allowed her this view.
“Justine?” came Karl’s whisper.
She startled at his voice and stumbled back towards the door. “The stars—”
“You must be freezing.” He pulled her inside, cupping her hands in his and blowing on them as he shut the door behind her. She liked that too.
“I’m fine,” she insisted.
“Come sit by the fire,” he said, pulling her towards the hulking iron stove. He guided her to the warm spot on the floor and settled behind her.
She extended her legs so that her wet, slippered feet nearly touched the iron grate. That alone was enough to warm her lower extremities. And the gentle embrace of Karl behind her was enough for the rest of her.
“That was a close call with Herr Brunner.” Justine couldn’t think as he combed his fingers through her unbound hair.
“Indeed. You should go to bed. We have much to do in the next month to prepare. Time is short.”
Their lives had revolved around this mountain for years now, taking her focus and attention and her time. Sometimes she regretted it, because there were so many things in the world besides one mountain. But she was glad Ophelia kept her focused. “I believe that we are ready. Prepared.”
He made a noise that didn’t sound like he agreed.
“No? What else must we do?”
Karl sighed, and the heave of his chest rocked her forward like a wave on a boat. “There is much to still learn about the terrain and which routes would be best. It has been grueling, but the Matterhorn is even more so. I think everyone is nearly ready. Nearly.”
Justine didn’t like the sound of that at all. “Who isn’t ready?”
“You are ready, Fräulein Bridewell is ready. I think Frau Moon will do well enough, as she seems to understand snow. But it is Frau Bridewell that concerns me. She has stamina, but she lacks confidence.”
“Walking does not require confidence.”
“It does.” He cleared her hair to one side, leaving her neck bare to him on the other. The whisper of his words along her skin was distracting in a way she didn’t anticipate. It made her not want to argue, but agree, so that he would keep talking, letting air dance along that space between her neck and her shoulder.
“How so?” she managed.
“A confident step sinks into the ground. An uncertain one slips. It is simple.”
“Ah,” she breathed. If he wasn’t sitting right there, holding her, stoking the inferno inside of her, she might have argued. They sat in snug, drugged warm silence. There was no place in the world she’d rather be.
“Are you warm enough now?”
She hummed a response because she could not actually open her mouth to use her words.
“Then off to bed with you,” he said, his voice rough with forced control. “Or I will lose myself all over again.”
His lips brushed against her earlobe as he spoke, and she nodded. “But I don’t want to go.”
He chuckled, and she thrilled at being able to feel the growl of his chest through her body. “Then we must someday find a way to do this, but perhaps not before the Matterhorn.”
