The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim
The shades of night are liftin'
The mornin' light steals across my windowpane
Where webs of snow are driftin'
If I could only have you near
To breathe a sigh or two
I would be happy just to hold the hands I love
On this winter's night with you
And to be once again with you
- Song for a Winter's Night, Sarah McLachlan
The letter arrived on a sunny day in December; just after Christmas.
Lizzy was humming to herself as she carefully removed the ornaments and strings of light from their wilting pine tree and packed them snuggly into boxes. Safe and sound for next year.
Darcy watched her as he pretended to be engrossed in the newspaper before him. In truth, he hadn't read a thing. Greatly preferring to admire the hem of his wife's stylish house dress. The fabric was a luxurious cream and he loved how the delicate pink flowers scattered across its surface highlighted the rosiness of Lizzy's skin. Her rich brown hair was carefully styled into finger waves; the delicate curls ending just at her jaw. They framed her face wonderfully and Darcy couldn't help lovingly tracing the strong sweep of her jaw and the elegant curve of her throat with his eyes.
Firelight surrounded her, and to Darcy's eyes, she seemed to glow. The flickering glow of the roaring fire - keeping their home delightful cozy - illuminated her hair and reflected radiantly off the diamond ring on her left hand.
She was more lovely than any actress.
Her beauty put even the Hepburn sisters to shame.
How did I get so lucky, Darcy thought, absently crinkling the paper in his hands, to have such a beautiful, headstrong, intelligent, tenacious woman fall for someone like me.
Laughter cut through his internal dialogue.
He looked up.
Lizzy was no longer tending to the tree. Instead, she was crouched on the floor beside his chair; one of his hands was clasped in hers. He hadn't even noticed her coming over.
Eyes twinkling with mischief, she smiled at him, "There you are. You went away for a minute," She tenderly ran a hand over his cheek. Darcy turned into it and pressed a kiss to her palm, "What are you thinking about so hard over here?"
"Just how lucky I am that you agreed to be my wife."
She laughed, leaned forward so her forehead pressed against his, before looping her arms around his neck. Darcy's heart swelled until he feared it might burst from all the love he was feeling. He was still not used to the casual touches that Lizzy offered so freely but slowly he was acclimating like a flower learning to follow the sun or a stray cat learning to both receive and give affection in kind. "Mr. Darcy, are you trying to seduce me," she teased.
"I don't know? Is it working?"
"Hmmm, I'm not sure. Let me double-check," She pressed a finger to her chin as she pretended to think mock-serious; Darcy rolled his eyes at her antics, his thumbs rubbing circles on her back. "Yes," She decided with a nod. "Now get up here and kiss me."
Darcy was all too happy to oblige.
He leaned forwards and pressed a quick kiss to her lips, and then pulled away, teasingly. Lizzy chased after him, rising up on her knees to press chaste, butterfly kisses to his lips and cheeks. Darcy laughed as she smothered him with kisses, "Take your punishment like a man, you incorrigible tease!"
"No, no it's too much," he squealed in pretend agony. "You're killing me! I'm dying!"
"Hmmm but I don't think you've learned your lesson yet." Lizzy smiled into the kisses before blowing a raspberry on his cheek.
Darcy laughed, almost breaking character at the unexpected tickle; he poked Lizzy's side in playful retaliation just to hear her squeak. "I have, I have! Please have mercy on me!"
"Oh, well, if you insist," Lizzy finally drew back, letting her husband catch his breath, and then shooting forward to plant one last hot kiss on the tip of his nose.
Darcy jolted dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest like he'd been shot, chest wheezing with his best imitation of a death rattle, "You've killed me," he wheezed, falling backward into his chair, eyes half-lidded. "Everything's...growing...dark. Fair lady, you have truly bested me in noble combat. That's all I ever wanted. Now, I may die in peace- thank you. Thank you…," his chest heaved with his last breath before falling still, collapsing bonelessly in the chair, eyes closed, tongue lolling from his mouth.
Snorting, Lizzy sank back onto her heels, skirts bunching around her ankles, "That's a shame," she sighed sadly, "I was just about to make some wassail for me and my husband but," she sighed again, "I guess I'll have to find someone else to share it with. Oh, dear."
Darcy cracked open an eye, "Wassail?" Lizzy nodded. Darcy lurched forward, grabbing both of Lizzy's hands in his, "Oh my dear Elizabeth! It's a miracle; I've come back to life!"
Lizzy snorted and shook her head, "I've always wanted a zombie for a husband."
She moved to pull herself upright, beaming when Darcy placed a gentle hand underneath her elbow, helping her.
Dusting off her skirts, she fussed about straightening her skirt and apron, when she was satisfied she walked into the kitchen. Calling over her shoulder for Darcy to please put away the boxes of ornaments and dispose of the tree.
Darcy did so.
When he had finished, he joined his wife in the kitchen. Lizzy was standing by the table sorting the mail, the pot of wassail bubbled merrily on the stove behind her. It smelled heavenly. He wandered over to, uh, inspect it.
"William? Do we know a Mr. Mallory from Mobberley?"
"Mallory?" Darcy looked up from his inspection of the hot drink, running through a mental list of names before he placed it. "Oh, yes, George- George Mallory. We were schoolmates at Cambridge together. I haven't heard from him in years. I wonder what he wants."
Lizzy extended the envelope out to him, "Let's find out."
Darcy took it, pulling out the letter. Lizzy watched him as he read; filling up to two glasses of wassail as she waited. She put one in front of Darcy but he paid no attention to it. He was completely absorbed in the letter as his face shifted between intrigued, confused, stunned, concerned, and uneasy. Concern grew in Lizzy's chest but she waited patiently for Darcy to finish reading before she interrupted, clutching her drink like a lifeline, "What's wrong? What does it say?"
"Mallory...he's...he's invited us to climb an unexplored mountain with him in Tibet."
"Tibet!" Lizzy sank backward, bracing her hand against the table to hold her up. "Wow! That's, that's….unexpected." Darcy nodded, jerkily, sinking into one of the kitchen chairs and downing a large swallow of his drink. Lizzy sat down across from him. Looking into her cup as though it held all the answers. Darcy didn't know what he was feeling. Surprised, certainly. Annoyed, maybe. This was not how he'd pictured their first Christmas- post-Christmas to go. Christmas with Lizzy had been enchanting and, now, to be invited to climb a - potentially - dangerous mountain with his new wife, a friend he had not seen in over three years and a team of strange men. He didn't know how he felt about that. How did he start to process this?
Tibet...remind me where that is."
"It's near India, I believe."
Lizy nodded, slowly. A contemplative look on her face, "May I read the letter?" That was alright by him - he desperately wanted her opinion on the matter - so he slid it across the table to her. He already knew what it said; he could practically picture in his mind what she was reading.
Dear Darcy,
It has been ages since we have last spoken to one another! I hope you are doing well. I was surprised to hear of your marriage from one of our mutual friends at Cambridge and wish to offer you my belated congratulations. I am glad that you were able to find some measure of happiness! I wish you all the best in the years to come.
My friend, I have an exciting proposal for you. Last year I was given the opportunity to survey Mt. Everest - the tallest mountain in the world - in Tibet. And I believe that I have found a path that can lead us to the summit. Next year, I will be joining a team heading to Tibet in order to see if my proposed route does reach the summit. I believe it will be a revolutionary undertaking! Our fellow Britians may have failed to be the first to reach the center of the Arctic but, certainly, we will be the first to reach Everest's peak!
As my wedding gift to you, I would like to offer you the chance to accompany me on this historic trip. It would bring me much pleasure if you and your lovely wife would join me. We are set to sail in late February; that way we might arrive in Tibet towards the end of March and make the trek to the mountain. Hopefully, if all goes to plan, we will be able to complete our climb before the onset of monsoon season. In the meantime, I will be returning to Surrey to get my affairs in order and prepare for the trip. Do not hesitate to call on me if you would like to discuss this offer further.
Yours ever,
G Mallory
Lizzy lowered the letter.
"It sounds like a once in a lifetime opportunity," she said, diplomatically, steadily making eye contact. "How do you feel about it?"
"I don't know. It sounds- extraordinary and yet...I am concerned about the many dangers we would face attempting to be the first to climb such an…unknown mountain. It is these unknowns that worry me. I don't think I'd be able to bear it if anything were to happen to you."
"I understand but, Darcy, we have climbed mountains before; even dangerous ones! We went on our honeymoon to the Alps, remember. The conditions there were much the same as I'd imagine Everest to be - snowy, cold, and miserable - but we fared well enough there, didn't we?"
Darcy shook his head, frowning, "That's not the same. We weren't the first ones to explore the Alps! We knew exactly what to expect, what- what eventualities we needed to prepare for. This expedition wouldn't be like that. We'd be walking blindly into the unknown."
"Mallory's letter did say that they had done reconnaissance of the mountain. So surely, they must have at least a vague picture of what to expect," She fussed with her empty cup, finally looking away from Darcy, a furrow between her brows as she weighed the pros and cons. She recognized that it was dangerous - she did - but she also really wanted to participate in what would surely be an exciting adventure. Her love of nature was something that Darcy had always known about and he'd worked hard to accommodate her zeal for adventure. But Lizzy's wants weren't the only ones they had to consider. It would not be fair to force William to go on a trip he was clearly uncomfortable about. Still…
"Tell me more about Mallory. Do you trust him? Is he as skilled in mountaineering as all this," she gestured broadly, "has led me to believe?"
"Oh, he's a brilliant mountaineer. There's nothing he won't climb - he's gotten in trouble many times by climbing things he's not supposed to - and he's good at it! In my opinion, he's something of a prodigy. He has such, such a passion for climbing that seeing him climb one could almost believe that he was born for it. It's almost like a natural instinct - one that he can't resist - like the pull of the American salmon to their birthplace. It's like he has to keep climbing or he'll die." Darcy snorted. "Which is crazy but, ah, the man's always been mad as a hatter. He once survived an avalanche in the Alps by swimming the breaststroke. Not to mention that once on a school trip to France he snuck away from the rest of the group and scaled the Eiffel tower."
"What!?"
"And that's not all," Darcy exclaimed. "I've heard rumors that he's also climbed Notre Dame herself like some kind of, of monkey. And," Darcy threw his hands in the air, "I heard that he wooed his wife by scaling the bell tower of St Mark's Basilica in Venice while she stood in the Piazza San Marco watching. Supposedly, it was very romantic." He took a drink; Lizzy said nothing, too flabbergasted by the fact that anyone who pulled off such stunts would be friends with her timid, awkward husband. "Not that I think so. They ended up having to flee the country before the police could arrest him. Which is not exactly my idea of a romantic proposal."
Lizzy found her voice and she said, smiling at the memory, "Mmm, you're right. Walking across a field right as the sun is rising is much more romantic."
"Are you mocking me?"
"Not at all! I, for one, greatly enjoyed your proposal. You certainly know how to set the scene."
"Why thank you, dear lady. I suppose your opinion is the only one that matters."
"So, what do you think? Has this talk made you feel better about going? Or not going," she added hastily. Darcy didn't miss her slip of the tongue but he didn't comment on it.
"I'm still unsure but," he held up a hand to stem Lizzy's disappointed face, "I will call on him. Make a decision once I'm sure that I have all the facts."
Lizzy stood and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "Thank you. That's all I ask." She smiled as she grabbed his hand, giving it a tender squeeze, "Just think - It'll be like a nice vacation for us. Mallory's grant will cover all the expenses so all we'll have to do is go and enjoy ourselves. We'd be able to see a completely foreign culture! Foreign traditions, animals, people - an entirely different way of life. When would we ever get an opportunity like this again, William? I think it'll be a lot of fun," She twirled one of his curls around her finger, smiling enthusiastically, "You know how much I love to walk."
Nearly a week later saw Mallory at their doorstep.
He adjusted the lapels of his coat, removed his hat then ran his fingers through his hair, and then knocked thrice. Twisting his hat impatiently as he waited.
"I got it," Lizzy called as she opened the door, beaming cautiously at the stranger on her doorstep. He couldn't have been older than 35; he had unkempt tow-colored hair, strikingly light eyes, and a nice smile. Lizzy instantly relaxed; no one with such a nice smile could possibly be bad. "Mr. Mallory, I presume?"
The man nodded, "The very one."
"Please come in."
"Thank you."
"Let me take your coat, Mr. Mallory."
"Please, call me George. Mr. Mallory was my father," He joked, gratefully shrugging off his brown tweed coat and blue scarf; Lizzy folded them over her arm and then turned to hang them on the coat stand. Darcy passed her as she did so, a sincere smile on his face, and clapped him on the shoulder, "George, it's so good to see you! How have you been?"
"I have been good! I trust you got my letter about my recent exploits in Tibet?"
They walked into the living room; Lizzy followed a moment later. Darcy walked to his liquor cabinet, examined a bottle of whiskey, and offered him a drink. Mallory nodded. "Oh, yes," he said carefully, pouring the whiskey into three glasses, "We were quite surprised at your letter and even more surprised to read your offer."
"I imagined so. Did you have any questions you'd like me to answer?"
"Will you explain the plan to us - in its entirety - so we can get a better idea of what would happen if we decided to go?"
"Of course. Let me just," he riffled through his pockets, obviously trying to find something, "Give you some background first."
They settled into the chairs arranged around the coffee table; George taking an armchair, while Darcy and Lizzy snuggled on the couch. Sipping their drinks, while George finally pulled a creased piece of paper from his trouser pocket. He unfolded it quickly and smoothed it on the coffee table. "Look at this. This is a sketch I drew of Mt. Everest. When I was in Tibet last year, me and my climbing partner, Guy Bullock, suspected that the Kharta river flowed from the North Col - a pass carved by glaciers in the ridge connecting Mount Everest and Changtse - we followed it for a while before changing course to follow the Kama River to the south instead."
"Why? Did the Kha- the first river not go where you thought it did?"
"Yes and no. The rivers flow parallel to each other but they lead from different places. The river we wanted was the one that flowed from the North Col; which was the Kama River. We ended up following it to the Kangshung Glacier and the Kangshung Face," He traced his finger across his sketch. "We thought about scaling the Kangshung Face so that we might return to the Kharta valley but, in the end, we decided it was impossible and climbed Kartse instead. From there - for we were very high up - we were able to examine the North Col, as well as the Kangshung Face. We wondered if the glacier in the valley to the north was the one that came down from the North Col or whether that glacier was further north again, but we didn't reach any decisive conclusions that day. Except for," he held up a finger, gesturing as if he had just declared that he had discovered a cure for cancer and was barely able to contain the knowledge. "We were able to judge that attempting to climb Everest's northeast ridge would be very difficult. It seemed that the best route would be to take the North Col and the north ridge above it."
"But did you find out if the glacier was the best path? Or does your proposed route still go over the North Col?"
"Yes, actually! To both questions. Guy discovered that the glacier flowing down the east side of the North Col turned sharply north and then joined the main Rongbuk Glacier. However, this path doesn't actually connect to the North Col. We had to cross a pass - which we decided to name Lhakpa La - and descend into the East Rongbuk Glacier before ascending to the North Col. It is this route that we've decided to take."
"Alright. Now could you please explain everything again," Lizzy smiled sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders defensively at the look George threw her. What did he expect? It's not as though they'd had the opportunity to become as familiar as he had with an undocumented mountain or the language-the terms a lot of his explanation had included. She'd gleaned that they were place names but beyond that she had nothing. "In layman's terms, preferably. Unlike you, Darcy and I are not familiar with these places." Darcy inclined his head in agreement. George looked chagrined for a moment before his expression cleared; he looked thoughtful, repentant. Lizzy was reminded for a moment that he was a schoolteacher. He was probably used to people asking questions.
"Ah, forgive me. I had forgotten that what I have learned is not yet common knowledge," He cleared his throat, set down his whiskey glass. He pulled another map from his pocket; this one far more detailed, if a bit rudimentary. Lizzy thought that it looked hand-drawn. "Here is another map of the mountain. Basically, we would start here," He pointed at a spot on the map, "And follow the Kama river across the Rongbuk Glacier, go through Lhakpa La - or Windy Gap - and from there ascend the North Col to the summit. Does that make sense?"
"A lot more," Lizzy stretched, cuddled more into her husband's side, and then smiled brightly at him, "What about you William? Are all your questions satisfied?"
He shook his head, "I would like to know more about what it is like. If there are glaciers it must be very cold there, right? What is the weather like? And what kind of animals can we expect to see? Are they dangerous?"
"For the most part it is going to be cold and windy; the trek there will likely be the warmest part! There are a few animals - snow leopards, red pandas, black bears, and wild yaks - but they seem to inhabit the regions of the mountain that are 6700 meters or less."
And so it went. George answered each and every one of William's questions to the best of his ability. He explained how tall the mountain is, how long it would take to climb it approximately, how long it would take to get to Tibet - about a month - when would they leave - the end of February - the supplies they would need, and who would be joining them if they decided to go. Through it all, Lizzy sat silently on the sofa, sipping her drink, listening. It was reassuring to see William's concerns dissuaded as the conversation went on. She knew that it would go a long way in making him feel comfortable about whatever decision he made. And, if she was being honest, it was comforting to her too. William was asking questions that she hadn't even considered, and it was comforting to know that his hesitance was there to balance her impulsiveness. Keeping her from making truly terrible decisions.
It also gave her the chance to examine their guest more.
He was boyish and a bit plain.
His clothes weren't extravagant like he had chosen them for their function not their looks.
Lizzy liked him.
He seemed like a bright, enthusiastic young man; and he seemed to exude an air of the utmost love and pride and skill in his profession.
She startled when Darcy suddenly straightened up, nearing falling over before catching herself.
"You've explained everything but the point," Darcy set down his glass with unnecessary force, hard eyes fixed on his old friend, "Why do you want to climb Mount Everest? And why should we," He gestured between himself and Lizzy, "Want to go with you? It does not sound like a relaxing vacation so why? Why should we go? What would it achieve?"
Mallory smiled, "Because it's there. Listen, William, you're not the first person to ask why. Lots of people have asked why I want to climb Mount Everest; what use would it be? And my answer is that it is of no use.'There is not the slightest prospect of any gain whatsoever. Oh, we may learn a little about the behavior of the human body at high altitudes, and possibly medical men may turn our observation to some account for the purposes of aviation. But otherwise, nothing will come of it. We shall not bring back a single bit of gold or silver, not a gem, nor any coal or iron... If you cannot understand that there is something in man which responds to the challenge of this mountain and goes out to meet it, that the struggle is the struggle of life itself upward and forever upward, then you won't see why we go. What we'll get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life. We do not live to eat and make money. We eat and make money to be able to live. That is what life means and what life is for."
Darcy looked taken aback; he had obviously been prepared for the standard reasons why people did things - because it will advance science! It'll advance medicine! Further the cause of mankind! - and to be presented with such an emotional, passionate explanation had shaken him. Lizzy held her breath as he seemed to contemplate this answer. Weighing it against the pros and cons, considering every possible scenario and outcome and his own feelings. She knew what she wanted to do. She'd known from the start; she was anxious to hear what his final answer would be.
He sighed, folded his hands in his lap, and then looked at her. "Is your answer unchanged?"
"Yes," She could hardly believe it. Her hands shook with anticipation. Was he really going to….
"Alright then," He looked at George, who was watching the proceedings with great interest, his face was calm yet his eyes glittered with excitement. "When do we leave?"