Arthur’s eyebrows lifted as he clicked his tongue. “Would you like to see it?”
Ophelia folded her hands. “I was wondering if we could postpone it.”
Arthur frowned. “The contract is signed. There is no postponing it.”
“The wedding, I mean. The actual marriage part.” Her fingers itched to start their clicking sequence, but she held them fast.
“Why? What has happened?”
“I wish to climb the Matterhorn unencumbered.” That was the truth, but she knew that it might not sound real to anyone else. What would it matter if she had a husband at the bottom or not?
“If you’re worried he would stop you, don’t be. It’s there, in the contract, that you will climb it and he has no power to keep you from it.”
“I understand that those are the words on a piece of paper,” Ophelia met his eye. She hoped he could understand how very different life was for people in a world where a contract might be broken. “But what does he forfeit if he does prevent me from going?”
“Oh, er, I’d have to check—” Arthur rummaged in the desk drawers.
“But it’s more than that, Arthur. The wedding will happen, and then there will be a house to set up, and a staff to meet, and rounds, and what if I fall pregnant?”
Arthur blushed past his hairline at the mention of his own wife’s condition. “Ophelia!”
“You needn’t be so prudish,” she admonished. “Honestly. Your wife is with child.”
“Yes, but you are amaiden.”
“An old maiden.” Ophelia sagged. Her nerves fell away, replaced only with the deep and weighty sadness. “I have one thing in my life that I’d like to do, Arthur. One. I don’t care about the rest of it. Let me climb the Matterhorn. Please.”
Arthur contemplated her for a moment. “Is this because you do not like Lord Fairport?”
She sighed. “I don’tdislikehim.”
“But do you like him enough to marry?” Arthur suddenly leaned forward. “Father was very clear with me, that no matter what, I was to allow you your choice of husband, and I intend to honor that. But if you don’t tell me what you want, then I cannot know.”
Her eyes welled up. “Oh, Arthur.” They were the two that were least alike. She knew that he thought her strange and contrary. But what she wanted? She wanted something that never could be hers. To be the first woman up the Matterhorn. To wake up in the arms of a loving and honest Julian. To spend her years planning climbs and adventures with like-minded women—and men!—without the speculation and comments from a judgmental and curious society.
But those were as false as a golden slipper left on a staircase at midnight.
“Please. I’ll marry him the second I return to London.”
“He’ll accuse me of trying to wriggle out of a contract,” Arthur said. When she didn’t say anything, he added, “But if you don’t wish to marry him for any reason, anything at all, let’s tear it up. You don’t like how he holds a cricket bat.”
A laugh burst out of her unexpectedly. “I haven’t the faintest how he holds one.”
“Perhaps he chews his foodtoothoroughly.”
“Or he treats his mothertookindly.” Ophelia relaxed, realizing that her brother was on her side. She had been so scared that he would make her go through with it before the summer. They could put off the trousseau, the clothes, all of it. What a relief.
“He is an absolute pushover for stray animals.” Arthur mirrored her relieved posture. “It’s going to be all right, Ophelia. And I know you think otherwise, but Emily and I have spoken, and we are fine if you and Mama stay here for years to come. Neither of you are a burden.”
Ophelia nodded. It had been that word that chased her,burden. “Thank you, Arthur. You’re a good brother. But I do try to keep my word, you know. I’ll marry upon my return.” She stood and crossed the study, noticing that it was the same and yet absolutely different in the room.
“Ophelia?” Arthur called.
She turned, expecting him to give her details on when he might call upon Lord Fairport.
“I’m proud of you, you know. I’m astonished at what you have already accomplished, and I support you as fully as I am able.”
A breathy and tearful laugh came out this time. “You are going to make an excellent father, Arthur. As I would expect. You had the best teacher.”
