“I think I must retire soon,” she said to Oliver. It wouldn’t be long before her tiredness grew too much for her to fight.
“You do look tired.”
She smiled at the observation. “Happily so,” she replied.
“Then you must retire,” Mr. Coleridge said. “A young couple on their honeymoon should not spend their evenings entertaining lone travelers such as myself.”
“Unfortunately, I am too weary to argue with you, Mr. Coleridge. The evening has been delightful, but we must bid you good evening.”
“Of course. Good night. Hopefully, we’ll have a spectacular day tomorrow.”
Truthfully, Clemmie felt she’d have a spectacular day no matter what the weather was like. A few days of rest after so much travel was the most welcoming thought she could think of.
Chapter 3
IT WASN’T BRILLIANT SUNSHINE when Clemmie woke the next morning, but it was brighter than the day before. Mist covered the valley, but she could see the hazy outlines of the village below. It did look romantic. The houses here were so different from what she was used to seeing at home. It hadn’t occurred to her before she’d left English shores that houses could be built differently, but they embraced wooden houses here with gabled roofs. The quantity of snow in the winters required such roofs, she understood.
Oliver lay in bed behind her. Lying like that, warm with sleep, he looked so unguarded. A complete intimacy beyond anything she’d known before. It was lovely. So far, she liked married life quite a bit. She also liked the freedoms that came with being a wife—something she was just getting used to. She could be left on her own, even to wander down the street on her own. It was very liberating.
Obviously, she’d longed for the freedom of being a married woman, and to have a household of her own. In all, she felt she’d been reasonably well prepared. Although she was going to miss her mother’s guidance, even if it felt overbearing at times. That was something she hadn’t expected either.
But Oliver seemed to make a good husband. She was lucky in that regard. There had been a girl or two that she’d seen returning from their honeymoons with stiff smiles and lost expressions. Not all men made good husbands. She’d heard the stories.
And Oliver was so handsome. Their children would be cherubs. To think she could be a mother later in the year. It would be close to Christmas time. It was too abstract to think.
Oliver stirring drew her attention back to him. “Good morning,” she said.
“Uh, I need a coffee. What’s the weather like?” he asked, sitting up quickly as if he realized where he was.
“It’s better today. I can see the village. Barely. It’s still very misty.”
“Maybe it will clear. I wonder if the glacier can be seen.”
“It doesn’t look like we can see it from our window.”
“I think the breakfast room. Come, let’s go to breakfast,” Oliver said and rose. Grabbing his clothes to dress by the fire. A maid had come in that morning to tend to the fire, so their room was nice and warm. The air had had a wet quality during the night that had dissipated with the fire.
“Alright,” Clemmie said. “I’ll call for the maid.”
Oliver was already dressed and was brushing his teeth. “I will see you downstairs when you’re finished. I’ll go downstairs to smoke, so I won’t disturb you.” It was considerate and she appreciated it. The smell of tobacco, although she liked it after supper, wasn’t something she was as attached to first thing in the morning. And she really didn’t want to have to open the windows. The heat from the fire would flee in seconds. It looked cold outside. There were even remnants of snow on the ground. Perhaps it never fully melted. The peaks of the mountains around them were still frosted with thick snow. It really was magnificently beautiful.
It took a few moments before the maid came to help her dress. It felt a bit awkward being attended by girls she’d never met before, but that was simply part of traveling, and she didn’t want to insist on bringing a maid with her. This trip was just for her and Oliver, so she had to depend on the maids available in the hotels they stayed in.
The girl was blond with freckles on her nose. She spoke in German, and Clemmie could direct the girl sufficiently as to which dress and how to set her hair. It wasn’t perhaps to the quality of a trained ladies’ maid, but it was decent enough.
The hall was cold in comparison as Clemmie left her room. Darker too as there was only one window at the very end of the hallway. At the stairway, she met a man she hadn’t seen before and smiled guardedly when she saw him. Dark hair and pale skin. Handsome. About thirty if she were to guess. With a quick bow, he urged her to take the stairs before him.
Downstairs, she found Oliver in the salon, talking to Mr. Coleridge again. They seemed to have hit it off. “Ah, there you are. I am famished. Would you care to join us, Mr. Coleridge?” Oliver asked.
“That would be a pleasure. A hearty breakfast before I set off.”
“Are you leaving today?” Clemmie asked.
“I am indeed. Both myself and my horses are sufficiently rested, so I venture north. One cannot be waylaid too long. I have a lecture I must make my way back to, else I would stay a bit longer.”
Tapping his pipe on the edge of the glass ashtray, he discarded the burning tobacco and put away the pipe in his inside pocket.
“This is a very curious area,” he continued
