Clemmie rushed to unlock the door as the girl tried to enter again. “Good morning,” Clemmie said in German and the girl curtseyed quickly before stepping in. “I would like to dress.”
Quickly and efficiently, Clemmie was ready to face the day and she thanked the girl, who guardedly searched the hallway with wide eyes and tight lips before leaving. It occurred to her that she was scared. The realization hit her hard, because the girl was local and she was scared. Did that mean something more than she knew about? Did the locals know things they weren’t telling? Things were happening in this hotel and it felt as though there were secrets kept. For some reason, this made her even more uncomfortable about all this.
The breakfast room had diners, but not as many as when they’d first arrived. The Schonbergs were there and they smiled cordially to her as she walked in and assembled a plate for herself. Coffee was served and she accepted a cup. Shortly after she sat down, the countess and her party came, none of them looking terribly happy, but then they never had as far as Clemmie had seen.
Then the rude Italian, who paid her little attention, but Mr. Carter didn’t come. She’d hoped to talk to him about what they could do, but he wasn’t there.
Outside the window, it was a somewhat clear day and she could see the glacier. No doubt, Mr. Schonberg would walk today. Perhaps even accompanied by his wife.
If Oliver was recovered—when Oliver was recovered, she corrected herself—she would be a better wife, one that took an interest in the things he was interested in. Not a wife that just sat and waited at home. That was the kind of marriage she wanted.
It was comforting to think of such things, but she also felt a little silly, almost like she was planning a party during a war.
As she finished, she rose and went to see Mr. Weber, who, as expected, was behind the reception. “Have you seen Mr. Carter this morning?” she asked.
“No, I have not seen him come down.”
That was odd, because she hadn’t seen him skip breakfast before, and she’d assumed he’d eaten before her. Breakfast service was almost over. Mr. Weber would see anyone leaving the hotel, or coming through the lobby, from his vantage point. Although it could be that Mr. Carter had walked past just as he’d had his back turned.
“Perhaps he’s simply not hungry today,” she said with a smile. “I might stretch my legs.” She smiled tightly. It felt as though it had been a long time since she’d taken any exercise at all. Mostly, she’d been a ball of nerves, sitting and fretting.
“It’s a clear day. A good day to admire the glacier, but I highly recommend you do not go near it. There is a vantage point up the road. It provides a marvelous view.”
The smile hid her sadness, because that was what Oliver was going to do that day, take her to the look-out. How angry she’d been when she’d thought he’d gone without her. Although maybe he had gone, and there was some evidence of him being there. Now she had to go look. “I think I will. I’ll just get my coat.”
Chapter 18
THE WIND WAS BLUSTERY outside, cool and icy, but her coat was of good quality, and her gloves protected her hands. With this wind, she’d foregone her hat, which her mother would strictly disapprove of, but she hadn’t brought any hat suitable for windy locations. Mrs. Schonberg’s hat was smart, as it molded to her head. How was it the woman was so effortlessly efficient?
Gravel crunched under her feet, and for a moment, it felt as though she was escaping all her troubles, and just being a girl walking along the road. A carriage came, along with all the jingling noises, creaking suspension and hoofbeats. She stepped aside and let it pass, the window covered with a gauzy material that didn’t let her look inside.
Keeping going, she reached the lookout and did admire the glacier. It was so incredibly vast, snaking along the valley between snow-capped mountains. Birds soared across it, and everything seemed still and calm, other than the wind.
Taking a deep breath, she exhaled. The world wasn’t falling to pieces. Unfortunate things were happening, and they were awful, but the world itself wasn’t falling into an abyss.
Looking around, she saw nothing that would help her. In her mind, she’d built this moment up to be the one where she found some evidence that would make things clear, that one piece that would unravel the entire puzzle, but there was nothing. It sent her emotions crashing again, and thick despair intruded on the moment of calm.
This was never going to end. How could Oliver be found when they’d already searched for him? What could have happened? How could he not be found? What would explain that?
Only the glacier, a dark voice said inside her head. Maybe he had been stupid and had attempted to cross it on his own. It was the only logical explanation. But then there was all this other hoo-hah. There had to be a link. There just had to be.
What she needed was to speak to Mr. Carter. He seemed to view this from a perspective she had trouble grasping, and perhaps it was a good thing that he wasn’t so emotionally invested, as panic and despair seemed to grip her mind intermittently.
It was silly standing there and admiring beauty when finding Oliver should be her only priority. With that, she left and walked back down the hill toward the hotel.
The carriage was there when Clemmie arrived, the horses being led away for stabling. Someone had arrived, but they’d been dealt with by the time she made it into the lobby. It was almost as if
