“Hallooo! Come inside! Supper is going to be served shortly!” Justine yelled from the entrance of the inn.
Eleanor broke away from his gaze with effort, her heart pounding. “We need to go in.”
Tristan nodded and turned, not offering his arm to her. She was glad. At this point, she wasn’t sure she could trust herself with his touch.
Inside, their crew was assembled at the dining tables with a number of men who could not be anything but locals. The proprietress served stew and fresh bread, with more of that delightful Scottish butter. Eleanor didn’t care if she had to eat stew for every meal if she got bread and butter with each bowl.
Their group discussed weather conditions, routes, snow, and wind.
“Women got no business on the Ben,” one man said, tugging his hat down low.
“Storm’s coming tomorrow anyhow,” a man at the next table said, eyeballing their group. He’d clearly been eavesdropping. The whole room had seemed to be.
“Bit of a walk from here.” Another man leaned back in his chair. He had his cap off, unruly red hair fluffed in every direction, as he smoked a pipe. “I’ve a barn, sits at the base of the Ben. You camp there overnight, well, you’re that much closer. Beat the storm on the way down.”
“If we sleep in the barn tonight, we can make good time by starting before dawn,” Ophelia said. “We won’t have the time we planned to acclimate, but if not, we’re stuck until the next clear weather window, and according to these gentlemen...”
They all glanced about at the room full of men who pretended to not listen.
“It may be some time before we can climb.” Ophelia looked to each of them, and Eleanor appreciated how Ophelia handled them. “This is a safety issue, and I won’t press on unless we all agree to climb tomorrow morning. That means no comfortable bed tonight. It’s blanket bags in a cold barn tonight and a grueling climb tomorrow morning before dawn.”
Eleanor looked across the table to find everyone nodding. Excitement buzzed through her like a live wire. Tomorrow they would climb the Ben. The prospect of a storm made her nervous, but given their preparations, Eleanor was sure they could ascend and descend in plenty of time.
“Are we agreed? Raise your hand if you will not climb with me tomorrow.” Ophelia looked around, as did Eleanor. No hands were raised.
*
It was stilldark when they awoke. Eleanor shivered as she pulled on the extra layers that she hadn’t slept in. She glanced at the others, all the same, all shivering or rubbing their hands or arms to warm up.
Ophelia’s voice pierced the silence, scratchy and coarse. “This is what we’ve waited for. The sooner we move, the faster we’ll be warm. I’m bringing a pack with a bit of supplies so we can breakfast halfway up. Take care of your business outside, and then we’ll rope up.”
They shuffled about in silence, rolling up their blanket bags, popping outside in the cold and dark to go about their business. It wasn’t long until they were ready.
“Must we rope up this early?” Prudence asked.
“You heard what Mr. Campbell said. The visibility comes and goes. We don’t know this mountain well, and there are a thousand paths up and down. It’s a safety precaution we can reevaluate when we break halfway up.”
Four hours. They would walk for four hours, then stop and break their fast with whatever had been hastily packed up for them. Ophelia led them out of the barn, their overnight things tidily stashed in the corner of the barn. Lady Rascomb would bewaiting for them at the bottom, she said, with hot water bottles and whisky, and a cart to take them all back to the inn.
But this climb was the proof Eleanor needed to show herself. She could do difficult things, test herself, push herself. And she would see the world from atop a volcano. They filed out of the barn, the air crisp and cold in a way that almost hurt inside her lungs.
“Breathe through your nose,” Ophelia reminded everyone. “Warm the air.”
Eleanor wished for the hottest cup of tea in the world right then. She watched as Ophelia put in her figure eight knot, their leader, ready to ascend the tallest peak in the United Kingdom. Then Justine. Then Tristan, who, even in the dark, was somehow a smudged shape that made her stomach do somersaults. She had taught them this skill, and she hoped her recommendation of the safest knot would prove worthy. Her fingers were clumsy as she took her turn. They were cold despite the fur-lined gloves and felt thick. After tying in, she settled woolen mittens on over them.
She felt the pull of the rope as Prudence tied in behind her and Lord Rascomb yet behind Prudence. Her heart pounded awfully hard, suddenly nervous, as they were about to embark. She looked at the mountain, but it was another indistinct looming shape in the dark. Either it was cloudy or it was moonless. But it didn’t matter. Not yet. One foot in front of the other. Breathe easy and rhythmically, and they would be done before anyone realized it.
“Tied!” Lord Rascomb called, and one by one they went up the line, checking their knot and confirming their status. When the cries reached Ophelia, she shouted, “Thus we climb on!”
Eleanor felt it was a bit theatrical, but this was ultimately Ophelia’s expedition, and Eleanor wouldn’t be the one to rob her of her enthusiasm. They squelched through some mud, but, asMr. Morrison claimed, the barn was directly at the foot of the mountain. They started to ascend almost immediately.
And for some time, Eleanor was blissfully at peace, her mind free of its constraints. With nothing to look at in the dark, and the rope slack in front and behind, she walked on, almost as if she were once again asleep. Just not as warm. The ground crunched beneath their boots as the frost broke and shattered beneath their feet.
Light soon spilled over the mountain, and the effect of the warmth was almost immediate. The ground began to steam, and the sight of it made Eleanor smile. It made the whole mountain look magical, as if it might suddenly dislodge and rise with the mist. She could see why people said the landscape felt alive. It hadn’t been bent to man’s will, as places like London had, where the Thames was another avenue of commerce, and the streets were lined with paving stones.
Here, nature was free to breathe, to exercise its own will. Humans were too beneath Mother Nature’s regard. Eleanor liked that. Nature as a force unto itself. Others knew that—Prudence knew that, having grown up on farms. It was city people like her that needed the revelation.
She knew she was grinning like an American, but she didn’t care. This was beautiful: the mottled green and brown carpet of the hillside, the wisps of steam in the early morning sun. Already the long hours of training, hardship, and heartbreak had been worth it.
