“I think I might be able to go a bit faster,” Prudence said, her voice surprisingly even. “But I didn’t want to leave Eleanor unsupervised.”
Eleanor nodded, her eyes wide, her breathing so shallow and fast Tristan was surprised she hadn’t passed out completely.
“Miss Piper,” Tristan said, hoping that he didn’t sound like the most outrageous pervert. “If you are to keep up, you must remove your corset.”
She shook head adamantly. “Must. Remain. Proper.” Eleanor changed from red-faced to white.
Oh no, she was going to pass out. “Mrs. Cabot, Mrs. Cabot!” Tristan shouted, holding out his arms. Eleanor swayed. “Water, go get the water!”
Mrs. Cabot looked pained but sprinted off towards camp. Tristan didn’t dare take his eyes off Eleanor, and good thing. She looked at him, glassy-eyed, unseeing, and crumpled.
He caught her before she hit her head and gently took her down to the ground. He looked around, panicked, knowing what he had to do, and hating it. “Fuck, I’m sorry Eleanor,” he said.
Tristan would never have claimed to be an expert with women. But he could take a corset off one with surprising speed. It was handy today. He yanked open the buttons on her dress, pulling it open. He felt the worst kind of scoundrel. Disrobing an unconscious woman.
“Believe me, this is not how I imagined it,” he muttered, his fingers working the laces. The cords gave a loud whirr and thwack as he pulled them from the eyelets. “But you must breathe.”
Her eyes snapped open, clear and lucid. She took a look at his face, turned over and vomited next to his leg.
“Breathe,” he said, rubbing her back, wincing as the acrid smell hit him.
She was gasping for breath still, and starting to shake. He set about getting that corset off of her entirely. It was doing her no favors. She rolled back again, allowing him to work.
“Having a hard time not swooning?” he asked.
Eleanor moaned incoherently.
The last eyelet was freed, and Tristan pulled the blasted thing apart. “I get that a lot. I’ve been told I’m rather handsome. Up you go.” He pulled her to her feet, supporting the whole way. She wobbled like a newborn colt. “I need you to walk, Eleanor. We have to get your blood pumping. Let’s go. Take a step.”
He felt her fingers tighten around his shirt in response, and she took steps as he did. Slowly, they walked back towards camp, a little shuffle at a time. Eventually she was able to do so without hanging on to him like a newborn babe.
“I still feel sick,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“You need water,” Tristan said. “Mrs. Cabot should be along soon.”
“I’m so sorry for ruining the morning run,” Eleanor said.
“Not to worry. We all get a turn. But I do wish you’d trust me when I say that you cannot wear a corset and climb the Matterhorn. Or Ben Nevis. Or any of them.”
As he spoke, Eleanor clutched at her gaping clothing, her face coloring not from her illness, but from her shame. “This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.”
“Then you’ve lived a charmed life, Miss Piper.”
She stopped short and looked at him, gripping her clothes tightly together. “You called me Eleanor.”
“You are mistaken,” Tristan said. “I can still feel your surname on my tongue.”
“Not now, when you were—” She gestured to her clothes.
“Ah yes, well, do forgive me. I thought you were unconscious.” Tristan winced. That didn’t sound like the civility he’d hoped to convey. “I only mean that we were in a crisis situation.”
Eleanor abruptly went back to walking. Tristan scrambled to keep up. “We’ve decided to all call each other by our first names, you know. Us women. We felt that it encouraged camaraderie for us. To help us all succeed.”
“Seems prudent,” Tristan agreed. In the distance, he could see Mrs. Cabot running towards them holding a waterskin. She had speed, not that it would matter on a mountain, but helpful at the moment.
“What if you and I did the same?” she asked, and turning toward him, he spied the high color on her cheeks.
He was relieved to see that she had a more normal pallor but did not think this was the time to invite informality. She’d just fainted, and he’d ripped her corset off, for God’s sake! “I am very flattered, but I think you should be given a chance to rescind your offer at a later date. You cannot consider yourself of sound mind at this minute.”
