“Apparently they came in very early this morning. Francis met them. They’ve been very busy running around town already.”
“But—” She must have been kissing Karl a bit longer than she thought she had. She couldn’t see the front of the inn from here. Oh drat. If she didn’t go down and show her face, this would be a disaster. Well, even more of a disaster. She slid off the rock.
“Before you go—” Ophelia grabbed Justine’s hand. “Will being with Mr. Vogel make you happy? If not, I’ll do what I can to stop this. I don’t know what I could do, but something.”
Justine smiled. Even if she had so many questions about what would happen in the future, not one of them was about whether or not Karl would make a good husband. “I think everything is going to work out, Fee. I really do.”
Ophelia smiled back at her; sadness touched every feature of her lovely face. “Then I’m happy for you.”
“I have to go greet my mother.” Justine sighed. “I’m not looking forward to this.”
“I know. She’s already invited my mother for tea in her room this afternoon. I believe it won’t be pleasant.”
Justine winced. “I need to apologize to your mother. It’s not her fault.”
Ophelia slid down the rock and joined Justine on the ramble back down to the inn. Now that she’d said it out loud to Ophelia, Justine felt the feeling of assurance settle over her like a shawl. Everything would work out for the best. And maybe this was the only way she would have ever gotten married—being forced into it due to her indiscretion. The indiscretion that she couldn’t wait to try again.
“If I try the Matterhorn again, will you do it, even though you’ll be a married lady?” Ophelia asked, her voice sounding thin and pinched.
“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” Justine answered. “I wouldn’t let you try this with anyone else. It’s still us against the world.”
They entered the inn, and Justine could hear her mother in the dining room. Her mother’s voice was very distinct. And it carried. Justine looked at Ophelia, who gave her a pat on the shoulder as encouragement. Justine exhaled, hoping for the best, then swanned into the dining room with false confidence.
“Mama, so good to see you.” Justine took her mother’s hands and kissed her cheek.
“Congratulations are in order, daughter.” Her mother pushed her hands back out so she could examine Justine. “You look as wild as ever. But at least happy this time.”
“And is Papa here? Who came with you? I’m amazed you came to Switzerland at all.”
Her mother’s face fell into a thin line. “Francis wrote to say you were getting married after climbing the Matterhorn. We were ready to leave when his telegraph came that your expedition was hurt. We wouldn’t abandon you out here, wedding or no!”
Something inside Justine’s chest popped open, like a bubble that burst. They’d come. They’d come forher, not for the prospect of a wedding. Francis had thought of her safety. She’d put herself out of their reach, and yet they ran to her when she needed. Her throat felt hot and thick.
“Francis also informed us of your wedding date, and I am glad we could make it here before you converted to Lutheranism or something else rash.”
Justine swallowed hard. Wait. So her mother believed that this hurried wedding was not because of a night of indiscretion but rather a planned ceremony? “Er—”
Her mother gripped her hands tighter, smothering Justine’s into a tight fist. “In fact, since you allowed Francisthe pleasure of arranging the ceremony, I’ve just found you an Anglican bishop to preside over the wedding. Please tell me that you’ll let him, and not whatever Lutheran pastor you’ve dug up. Please. For your mother.”
“I will—” Justine looked around, still trying to figure out how to best handle this. “I will talk to Karl about it. I don’t think he had his heart set on any particular pastor.”
Her mother sighed in relief. “Thank goodness. This way your marriage will be recognized in England and I won’t have to have any of those awkward conversations about if your children are technically bastards.”
Justine frowned. “Wonderful.”
“And where is Mr. Vogel? Is he nearby? I haven’t met him yet. Your father is still up in the room. He’s having troubles. Something about the dairy doesn’t agree with him. But I would like to meet this young man. Oh,” her mother blanched. “He is a young man, isn’t he?”
Justine stifled a laugh. “Yes. Close to my age.”
“That’s for the best, anyhow. I can’t believe how he managed to sweep you off—”
At that moment, Karl peeked into the dining room, his waistcoat hanging open, his hair a mess, holding the hatchet across his shoulder. He looked every inch a mountain woodsman, broad and capable and muscled. His blue eyes speared Justine. “Is all well? Do you have any needs I may address?”
As Justine caught her breath, she looked over to her mother, whose mouth gaped open.
“Karl, this is my mother,” Justine said. “Would you like to be introduced?”
“I apologize, I did not know they arrived.” He backed up a step. “Please excuse me, I must bathe before introductions. I’dlike to be presentable.” Karl nodded his head, almost as if he were bowing. “Ma’am.”
