Karl grunted. “Today is an off-day for a few guides. I plan to go down to Mont Rose and see what conditions are on the mountain. I heard Anderegg was attempting it yesterday with a party of Americans. I’d like to see if they were successful. You can prove to me your abilities this afternoon.”
“And if they were successful?” Ophelia asked.
“Then I’ll ask about snow pack, and we will make our attempt in the next few days. The weather has been good. I don’t want to miss the window.” Karl settled back into his plate.
“There’s a possibility we could be climbing the Matterhorn in a day or two.” Ophelia felt the spark she’d always had when discussing mountains. To be on top of the Matterhorn would be incredible. She wondered how far she might see. What it would look like up there.
*
Julian felt moreawake than he’d ever been, and it wasn’t the imported coffee. After his quick—literally quick—hike with Karl as they’d run up steep trails, his body felt lighter, the air was cleaner, and the snow-capped mountains brighter. Julian had acquitted himself better than he would have thought, but he’d never struggled with altitude changes as others did. And ten years of doing nothing but mountaineering apparently took more than a year to wipe away.
But it wasn’t that which kept him basking in the Swiss sunshine. The way Ophelia looked at him this morning gave him hope more than any words she could have spoken.
Sitting outside was a pleasure here. The faint clanking of bells around the necks of cows and goats reached him from up in the hills. Hillsides surrounding the valley were awash in yellow flowers. The smell of the grass, currently being scythed in organized swaths, filled his nose. Peace had never so forcefully presented itself to him, not even when hiking alone in South America. There he’d had an objective and a goal.
Here, this was leisure at its most opulent. Joy was a flower that he could pluck daily. Julian laid down and let his eyes float shut. After the Matterhorn, he would ask Ophelia to marry him. Perhaps he ought to ask her brother first, as she was the daughter of a viscount. Sister of one now. He could wait.
Still, he imagined her golden hair flung across the white pillow in Paris. Her blue eyes widening as he had told her about her article publishing. His mind remained fuzzy and drifting until he heard his name being called. Julian sat up, propping himself on his hands, trying to pinpoint the sound.
Karl came striding up the mountain like a Valois goat. “Julian, let’s go.”
Julian raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
“Conditions are good. We leave tomorrow. The ladies are sorting gear. We need to get our packs prepared.”
Julian was on his feet, bounding down after Karl, happy and content. Ophelia was about to get her dream, and he would get to be a part of it.
