“No,” Ophelia waved her hand, as if she could erase her previous words. “The future in which I am married is much less interesting than the future in which I climb mountains.”
Eleanor chewed on her lip. “To me, that sounds very telling.”
“Does it?”
“I think it means you do not wish to marry Lord Fairport.”
“Or perhaps I do not wish to marry at all.” Ophelia rocked back into her chair. “Though I know I ought to. Otherwise, I’ll be a drain on my brother for the rest of my life.”
Eleanor gave her a sympathetic look. She was older than Ophelia, though not by much. “It isn’t fair, is it? To not have the options to care for oneself as well as men can care for us?”
“It’s ridiculous, is what it is,” Ophelia snapped. She’d thought about becoming a working woman, as if it wouldn’t reflect poorly on Arthur, signaling that he either refused to look after her, or was too cheap to do so. But the occupations available to her were severely limited. Governess? Absolutely not. Seamstress? No, thank you. Actress? Hardly. “All I want to do is climb mountains. If I could open an outfitter like Tristan’s, or become a guide like other climbers, I would do it. But no one would trust a woman.” And what Ophelia left unsaid was,No one would trust me.
“Tristan sometimes gets inquiries about outfitting a woman,” Eleanor said. “If any of those ever write back, I know he would pass them along to you. I’d make sure he paid you, of course.”
Ophelia smiled at her friend, trying so hard to help. “You’re very kind, Eleanor.”
“I’m not, really. I’m quite selfish. You’re my friend, and I believe my friends should all get what makes them happy.” Eleanor shrugged. “It’s a failing of mine.”
“So you’ll go with me to the Matterhorn?”
Eleanor reached across the wrought iron table and gripped her hand. “If I am able, I will go.”
Ophelia frowned. “What would make you unable? Does your shoulder still pain you?”
Eleanor looked like she were stifling a grin. Oh, she’d misunderstood something again. But what?
“We are discussing adding a child to our family, Ophelia. So that you might be an auntie. If that occurs before next summer, then I will not be able to climb with you.”
An image of a ten-year-old child moving into their house occurred to Ophelia, and she momentarily thought,Why could she not just bring the child along?But then the reality sank in: this was far enough away that Eleanor could be very pregnant by the time the expedition would begin. Right. And it would be a baby, not a child who was of a speaking and reasoning age.
“Of course,” Ophelia said quickly, once her mind had figured out the puzzle of Eleanor’s words. Still, she felt embarrassed for not seeing that already. Her friends were all married now, and children were a real threat to their freedom. “Then let’s hope for the best.”
Eleanor gave her a strange look, as if she weren’t sure which way Ophelia meant to be the best. Honestly, Ophelia wasn’t sure either.
