– Are you going out again? This late? – Praying in her heart that he would answer yes, Vivian asked. She wanted her voice to be calm, but she couldn't contain the fear coursing through her soul.
"Lord, almighty, good, just! Save me from his wrath! He will beat me to death!" – The thought sent icy goosebumps running down the girl's body.
– Oh, is that what you mean? – Jeremy tinkled the whip against his palm as if demonstrating his abilities.
– Why did you bring the whip with you, my love? – Vivian put the brush in the top drawer of the dressing table and wanted to get to her feet, but the stern "Sidi" thrown by her husband made her stay in her seat and continue to stare at Jeremy's reflection in the mirror.
Instead of answering, the young man came close to his spouse, placed the whip on her lap and began to gently stroke her neck with his fingers.
– I'll tell you a funny story," he said quietly after a moment of silence, and Vivian shuddered at the sound of his voice. – When I was ten years old, my father threw a dinner party and invited the few friends he had-" Jeremy grinned. – Three married couples came. Alone, without children. Their children were asleep at home because it was late: my father's whim had set dinner for ten o'clock at night. I, too, was forbidden to leave my room. Strictly forbidden. But I was eager to see the guests, so I quietly crept into the dining room and hid behind a large heavy curtain. But I didn't realise that the curtain didn't hide the toes of my house shoes, and I was soon discovered.
Jeremy stopped talking and wrinkled his nose slightly, as if the memory hurt him. But his fingers continued to stroke the neck of his wife, who sat in front of him, pale and tense as an overly taut string.
– My father was angry with me. His anger was so great that he began to berate and insult me in front of his own guests. He was drunk. He smelled of alcohol so badly that I almost fainted from the odour, which was disgusting to me at the time. I was only a curious child who had recently lost his mother. – Mr. Wington took a deep breath, his dark eyes fixed on the reflection of Vivian's face. – I remembered his face forever: red as an apple, so red I thought his head would explode.
– I'm sorry you had to suffer such a horror, and as an innocent little boy," she said quietly.
– So am I. But that's not the end of the story. – Jeremy leaned down and picked up the whip again. – My father sent me back to my room, and I lay awake, crying. And when the guests left late that night, he burst into my room, dragged me out of bed, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me to the stables. There he ripped off my night shirt, tied my hands to a stall and whipped my back. Thirteen times. I counted every stroke.
– Your father obviously had some serious mental illness… To do that to his own child! – Vivian said, feeling sincere pity for her husband, and took the palm of his hand, which he was stroking her neck, in her own.
– No, he was just teaching me a lesson," he said nonchalantly. – A lesson I've learnt for the rest of my life: never question someone you depend on. Never fight someone who is stronger than you. You disappointed me today, my love, and as a good husband, I must teach you obedience. But, since you are but a fragile woman, I will only give you five strokes.
Vivian sighed loudly and frantically pressed her spouse's palm. She didn't want to believe Jeremy's words, but she knew his character and realised that he would carry out his threat.
– Jeremy, my beloved husband, I think you're getting too emotional," Vivian said in as calm a tone as she could manage. – I was too hasty myself when I said those awful things to you on the way home. But, darling, I have had plenty of time to reflect, and I have found that I have behaved unworthily. You are my husband, and I love you. I'm sorry if my bad words have hurt you.
She wasn't going to humiliate herself in front of him, wasn't going to give in to his madness, but the instinct of self-preservation took over reason, and those words full of humiliation came out of her mouth.
Vivian knew the pain of the whip on human skin: when she was a girl of seven, her father's governess had whipped her for the smallest fault or mistake in her writing. The girl still remembered how her skin burned, and the humiliation of the thin whip the governess had borrowed from her employer. And Vivian's father knew how the old woman used her formidable weapon. He knew, but pretended not to notice.
– Apology accepted. But, my angel, I can't just forget what happened. I promise I'll try not to hit you too hard," Jeremy replied curtly. – Get up off the pouffe and turn to me.
– No, I'm begging you! – She exclaimed desperately, barely audible, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, as if she were already trying to protect her body from the blows.
– Darling, don't be afraid, I want your arms, not your back," said Mr. Wington, as if to comfort her. – But if you continue to be stubborn, I'm afraid I'll have to use force, but that will hurt your beautiful buttocks.
With hatred burning in her heart, the girl hastily complied with her husband's order, and soon the first ringing blow of the whip descended upon her uplifted naked tender palms. Vivian was able to withstand it without even crying out, but the subsequent blows made her cry, especially the last one: it seemed that Jeremy had deliberately struck as hard as he could to cause her as much pain as possible.
After the fifth stroke of the whip, the girl's palms, flushed and slightly swollen, trembled with pain, and she brought them up to her eyes, full of tears and fear.
– Please don't fight me again, my love, or I'll have to punish you again," Jeremy said quietly and kissed her lips.
– I promise you will never have to hit me again! – Through tears, Vivian said, humiliating herself again and submitting to his will. "Monster! Monster!" cried the girl within herself. – 'But I beg you: let me see Charlotte and Anthony! They are the only friends I have in this city that is foreign to me!
– All right. But you must be home every night. No sleepovers at Miss Salton's," Jeremy smiled and kissed her again. – But go to bed. I have some paperwork to take care of. I'll wake you when I get back, and you'll have to prove to me that you remembered my lesson.
– Whatever you say, darling," Vivian answered machine-like.
"And even now he won't let me rest! After he has mutilated my poor palms! – Mrs. Wington thought with despair mingled with disgust, and as her husband left the bedroom, she lay down in bed, folded her arms across her chest, and, shutting her eyes tightly to keep back the tears, mentally pleaded: "Heavenly Father, Saviour and Comforter! Comfort me! Give me strength to endure all this for the sake of him whom I love more than myself!"
The next morning Jane frowned at the bruises on her friend's body and her swollen, trembling palms, and this time she could not contain her emotion.
– 'What are those spots on you, Miss Vivian? – she asked directly.
– Nothing," she answered quietly. – Nothing, Jane.
– What about your hands? They're so red!
– Forget it.
– But, Miss Vivian," protested the maid, who wished to discuss this delicate but frightening subject.
– We will not discuss it. And keep your tongue behind your teeth," Vivian interrupted her, somewhat rudely.
Jane could tell from her friend's icy voice that she was not in the best mood for questioning and waited patiently for Miss Vivian to tell her what had happened to her. The maid was not silly, however, and realised who had left the marks of his greedy, strong fingers on Miss Vivian's neck and wrists, but she did not insist.
"Couldn't be more perfect! A house near Charlotte! And just within my means!" thought Anthony, when after an early breakfast he was paid a visit by Mr. William Brown, brother of the Cranford butler.
Having spent the entire day at Lillehus, Anthony had to leave it after dinner, for he himself had made an appointment to see Mr. Brown. When the guest, an elderly, smooth-shaven gentleman in an expensive suit, appeared, young Cranford told him of his desire to have his own place, and the maximum amount of rent he could pay. After listening carefully to the new client, Mr. Brown, who earned good money for his services, smiled and said that he would find something for the young aristocrat worthy of his status. But Anthony did not have to wait long: the very next day Mr. Brown brought him the news that at such and such an address there was a small but elegant two-storey mansion, which had previously been rented by one of Viscount Tanlis's sons. Young Tanlis had only moved out because he had recently married and moved into the house, which was part of his wife's dowry.
– The house is surrounded by a small garden with a few statues and comfortable benches," added Mr. William Brown. – If you think of renting the house, you need not worry about buying furniture; Mr. Tanlis left his own there, and I must say it is quite expensive and still in good condition.
– But where shall I keep my horse? – Anthony inquired.
– There is a small stable on the grounds, sir, but I'm afraid it can't hold more than three horses.
– Well, that's just as well!" said the young man cheerfully, thinking that he had only one horse in his personal possession, which he had bought at his own expense.
Anthony had no desire to take with him what did not belong to him. Nothing, not even sheets and blankets. No, he would buy everything himself. He would never again be dependent on his mother and her favours.
– If you wish, sir, I will take charge of procuring the necessary household items, bedding, curtains, and other furnishings. I can also find you a couple of servants," Mr. Brown said, as if he had read his client's mind.
– I would be incredibly grateful for your help. Of course, I'll pay all the expenses. Make this house cosy, but please don't go overboard: my budget is very tight. I think a cook and a maid will be enough… Oh, yes, and a stable boy, but tell him that in addition to looking after my horse he will also have to help in the house," Anthony said firmly, already looking forward to the moment when he would enter his own house, where he would have his own rules, and where breakfast would be served when he woke up. – How many days will it take you to decorate the house?
– I'll try to get it done in the next few days, sir," said Mr. Brown. – Small houses are much easier and quicker to furnish than large villas. But I'll need an exact figure for the budget, sir.
Anthony gave him a sum, quite generous.
– Excellent, sir. Then, if you'll allow me, I'll get on it now,' he received in reply. – As soon as the house is ready for you, you can check it out for yourself, and if you're satisfied, it's yours.
A formal contract was then signed between the parties, including Mr. Brown's fees, and both client and guest, satisfied with what had been achieved, left the house.
Remembering the unhappy expression on Vivian's face as she left Lillehus yesterday, young Cranford decided to have a chat with her before he and Jeremy went hunting. Knowing that on every hunt of his friend, the one always accompanied by Aurelius and Mark, the clever hunting dogs, Anthony did not take his dogs. Soon, dressed in a comfortable hunting suit, a warm fur-lined cloak, high leather boots with fur inside, gloves and hat, the young man galloped over to Wington Hall.
"'Hell, what a thing to be done! On the joy of acquiring my own place near the lovely Miss Salton, I forgot my gun at home! – suddenly flashed through Anthony's mind, and the thought made him laugh quietly at his absent-mindedness. – But small grief! Jeremy has a dozen guns in his collection, and he will be glad to lend me one of them.
– There you are, Cranford! A quarter of an hour late! – Anthony heard the cheerful voice of his friend waiting for him in the courtyard of the mansion.
Mr. Wington was as well dressed as Anthony. Both gentlemen had been sensible in putting on warm clothes: the still dark, chilly morning had for the umpteenth time this November given London a nasty drizzle. Fortunately, there was no fog, and the hunters could rest assured that none of them would be killed on this hunt by mistaking a friend for a doe, a rare occurrence among hunters.
Vivian stood beside her husband, and wrapped herself in her woollen shawl and wished that the beast she had married would not come home this evening. She wished desperately that Anthony would come galloping in, upset, perhaps in tears, and inform her that he had inadvertently shot Jeremy. The girl dreamed of being a widow, and after her spouse had beaten her palms with a whip, thoughts of homicide began to invade her mind. Killing herself or her spouse. She dreaded these thoughts and hastily chased them away.
"No, I will live. I have someone to live for. But, if anything happens to me, Richard will get the amount Jeremy gave me for my expenses. It's a good thing I have all that five thousand in the bank in my Richard's name!" – Vivian consoled herself, and, watching her cousin dismount from his horse, cried out within herself: – Miss, Anthony! I beg you, miss!"
– I forgot my gun at home," young Cranford informed his friend. – I have no wish to return. Would you lend me one of yours?
– Of course. Would you prefer to choose one yourself? – Jeremy responded cheerfully.
– Anything you choose will satisfy me," Anthony said.
– Then wait for me. – Jeremy walked towards his wife, whispering in her ear: "Remember that what happens in our bedroom must remain our secret, my love," and then disappeared into the house.
"Silly goose! As if I were going to expose my own shame!" – thought Vivian scornfully, but smiled broadly when her cousin came up to her and wished her good morning.
– Another nasty day… I wish winter and its snows would come sooner! – The girl said in lieu of greeting. She looked at Anthony's outfit with an appraising glance and added: – I hope you won't freeze on your nasty unnecessary hunt, dear cousin.
– Don't worry, my dear grumpy Vivian," he grinned. – Such outfits have saved me more than once, even in the cold of winter. But how was your day yesterday? You left in such a hurry.
– Jeremy worries about me too much. We came home and spent the day in peace and quiet," Mrs. Wington lied without hesitation. – But how did Charlotte react to our departure? And what's going on between you two now? – she asked with a sly smile.
– I am madly in love with her, but her feelings are unknown to me. She is polite and friendly. You delicate creatures are so difficult to unravel," Anthony replied in an even tone. – Miss Salton was upset by your departure, but I managed to cheer her up with my unflattering singing… But I have great news: I am moving from Greenhall to my own house in a few days, and I expect to be visited by my dear guests on the first day of my move: you, your husband, and Miss Salton, of course.
– I am proud of you, dear cousin! – The girl glowed. – It is high time you lived apart from your mother. But I have good news to share with you, too! Jeremy has allowed me to see Charlotte. And you.
– Me? Did he object to you and me seeing each other? – Mr. Cranford was unpleasantly surprised.
– No, you misunderstood… It's funny, but Jeremy is jealous of you," Vivian explained in a whisper. – But don't tell him that I told you about it.
– I won't, I promise. But, God, he's so funny! – Anthony laughed.
– He is. Terribly funny," said Vivian, smiling. – But I'm going inside: I hate drizzle. And you've heard that Charlotte's coming to see me today. So I certainly mustn't get ill again. I'd ask you to spare the animals, but I know you'd never do it-so I'll say, 'Good luck with your hunting, dear cousin. – "And please make me a widow," muttered the girl.
At this they said good-bye.
When they entered the house, on the stairs Vivian met her husband, who, carrying a large hunting rifle, was smiling so happily that she was sickened by his bloodthirsty smile, but she wished him a happy hunt and answered his passionate kiss. Having fulfilled her role as an obedient wife, she made her way to the bedroom.
She took off her damp shawl, hung it on the back of a chair by the blazing fireplace, pulled the cord to call Jane to her chamber, and sat down at the dressing table to make sure once again that the high collar of her morning dress concealed the bruises on her neck.
Jane appeared a few minutes later.
– You wanted to see me, Miss Vivian? – She asked readily.
– Sit beside me, my dear," Vivian smiled at her reflection.
The maid moved a soft chair to the dressing-table and complied with her friend's request.
The girls chatted quietly on diverse topics. Jane also happily informed her friend that her mother was now able to pick up objects and attend to herself again, but was still struggling with the effects of her burns.
– Miss Vivian, you forbid me to talk about this… But you are so unhappy. You don't want to tell me, but I understand, I understand everything. He beats you. And yesterday I saw him coming into your bedroom with a whip. And then I saw your hands, but only today I realised that he had beaten you with that damned whip! – Jane said in a quietly determined tone, and gently took her friend's red, swollen hands in her own.
– I knew you wouldn't get away with it," said Vivian, smiling sadly. – I think I was wrong, Jane. I was wrong to marry him. But I-I don't so much regret it. It was all for Richard. When you meet him, you'll realise I made the right choice. But when exactly you'll see him, I don't know. Soon, I hope.
– Miss Vivian, I am so sorry for you… Tell me, is there anything I can do for you? – Jane asked quietly.
– 'What can you do for me in my position, my dear? – Vivian grinned, touched by the devotion of her faithful Jane. – Make me a widow?
– It is a great sin, Miss Vivian! – The maid said firmly, furrowing her brow, and leaning down to her friend's face, whispered: – 'You have only to ask… Only to give me permission and I will free you from him!