Before Ophelia could go charging out the door, Justine grabbed her. “He said that a harlot looks at men the way I look at Karl. For all I know, he’s correct. But it’s still a rather mean thing to say.”
“I will not have any of my team slandered in public places. There are too many other climbers in town,” Ophelia said. “That is damaging to all of us, and I’ll have Francis watch his tongue.”
“He said it because he’s my brother.”
“He said it because he’s a twat,” Ophelia shot back.
Justine chuckled at her friend’s uncharacteristic use of foul language. “You aren’t wrong about that.”
“I can’t sit by on this, Justine. This has bigger implications than just you having a row with your brother.”
And off she went. Justine knew she’d hear blow-back from Francis about Ophelia taking him to task, but it was worth it at this point. But it did make her wonder what shewas supposed to say to Francis. How to explain to Francis this connection she had with Karl? That he seemed to understand her in a way that no one else did? That their common interest wasmountains? And specifically, walking up the sides of them? It sounded bizarre at best.
But she knew that he would caution her away from Karl. Honestly, Justine was not flattered by her own behavior either. But there was something heady and intoxicating about him. As if she couldn’t speak or think straight when he touched her. Staring at it the way Ophelia would, any relations with Karl were a terrible idea. And Karl himself had said he would lose his reputation as a gentleman’s mountain guide if it were found he was deflowering his virginal clients. What a mess.
And of course it was Justine wading into this ridiculous mire. Ophelia would never be so foolish as to conduct herself like this. And Prudence would never be a love-lorn puppy. And Eleanor? Well, Eleanor had been trapped with Tristan. Perhaps she’d thought they would be stuck there on Ben Nevis forever, so might as well experience something before they died. Why else would someone be naked with Tristan Bridewell?
Ugh. She’d still flirt with Karl, especially now that it bothered Francis. That was a given. But perhaps the post-Matterhorn assignation would not happen. It was ridiculous of her. A midnight thought, the kind where consequences didn't exist. But it was morning now.
Should she tell Karl that nothing would happen between them? Or should she keep it all to herself? One never really knew how men handled rejection, so she’d stay quiet and let him think that a night of passion was still happening. That was for the best, wasn’t it?
**
Chapter Nine
Karl was bursting to tell someone. Not his Onkel or Tante, of course, they would talk him out of it. Now that summer was here, his guiding compatriots had returned to Zermatt. They would be meeting up in a few days to compare notes, expedition groups, and weather theories in order to discuss routes. It would be unbearable for so many parties to be on the Matterhorn at one time.
He finished splitting the lumber rounds in front of him and kicked them about to separate the pieces. They would need to cure and dry out for another year at least. He still had to pick out the kindling-sized wood and then stack the other logs into their off-season woodpile. It was never-ending work, but he didn’t care today, because his heart had wings.
He was going to marry a British girl. Him, married! It would be quite a strange change. They would need their own cottage in Zermatt. He couldn’t have her sleeping on the dining room floor with him. Or even the unfinished caretaker’s room. His Onkel and Tante had their own cottage just steps away from the inn, but there was a room off the lobby that had yet to be finished that was supposed to be his.
No one thought about Karl marrying—including himself—because he rarely encountered women. But Justine Brewer was a different kind of woman entirely. Would she be content to stay in Zermatt? Would she travel with him if he were hired to be a guide in a different country? Would she return to England to be with her family if he left?
Or, he could take his father up on his offer to be a part of his trade. It was an option, but one that would take him out of the mountains. Out of the snow and wilderness. And that’s not what he wanted. Nor what Justine seemed to want either.
There were many things to think about. He lined up another round, and it gave easily under the weight of his axe. They would be leaving for a long day’s hike in a few moreminutes, but he had enough time to split a few more logs. Better to get a few done every day than leave the entire chore never started.
Indeed, the thought of their marriage made him energetic, despite his lack of sleep. He had taken himself in hand after she’d left. He’d gone outside, not wanting to do such a deed in the inn’s dining room. But no sooner had he allowed himself to think about her on his lap, moaning into his kisses, than it was over. She was all he could think of, all hewantedto think of.
But first, they had to climb the Matterhorn. He could focus on that task without difficulty. He finished with what splitting he had time for, hearing the church bell ring its single bell to mark the quarter hour, and returned to the inn. At the tool storage shed, Karl oiled the axe before stowing it, which was where Mr. Brewer found him.
“I don’t know what is happening between you and my sister, but I need to make it clear, nothingwillhappen. Do you understand?” The Englishman spoke the last words slowly, as if Karl didn’t speak English.
But Karl couldn’t help himself. He knew he couldn’t headbutt the man, which was his impulse, given his hands were occupied. “I find it best to not threaten a man who holds a weapon.”
Mr. Brewer’s brown eyes—the same shade as Justine’s—widened as he looked down to see the axe in Karl’s hands. Had he not noticed as he approached, what Karl was doing? Single-minded to a fault, it seemed. “I am not threatening,” Mr. Brewer said, his tone much softened. “I am reassuring you that Miss Brewer’s family will protect her at all costs. As will Lord Rascomb. With the full force of English law.”
Karl did not like being threatened. It was cheap, especially in a place like this wherelawandfamilywere secondary very much to the forces of weather and nature. Familywas important here, yes, of course, but it was a broader sense. The entire community had to function as family, otherwise they would not survive. “I am sure that means something where you come from. But where we stand now, we respect other things more than English law.”
This was perhaps the wrong thing to say or, depending on what Karl wanted, exactly the correct thing to say, for Mr. Brewer’s face went purple.
“I will have you stay away from my sister, sir. Make no mistake, I will brook no trespass upon her person.”
“What if she marries me?” Karl could not resist a taunt.
“Be careful of what slander you speak, sir,” Mr. Brewer spat. His face was becoming a rather concerning shade of purple. If he were an older man, Karl would have advised him to sit down.
“I speak no slander.” Karl finished with axe, tucking the metal head inside its leather case and stowing the tool inside the shed. “Excuse me, I need to ready for today’s trek.”
