– Jane! My sweet, kind Jane! – Vivian exclaimed quietly, and squeezed her friend's palms with force. – What are you saying?
– I know how to rid you of that dreadful man! Just put a little poison in his brandy! – Jane went on whispering unperturbedly. – Don't think I've poisoned anyone before, no! Only rats.
– My dear, wait! – Vivian interrupted gently but firmly. – I am very grateful to you for such loyalty and for wanting to protect me from him, but, believe me, this is not the way. I don't want you or I to take on such a sin. And it would be easy to find poison in his blood. And then we'd both be imprisoned, maybe even executed. No, Jeremy's not worth it!
– Miss Vivian, if it's discovered, I'll confess that I did it and that I wanted to do it. So what if I go to prison? But you'll be free of that monster! – exhaled the maid with emotion.
– You think only of me, my dear, but you forget your poor mother," Mrs. Wington reminded her friend. – What will she do without you? What will she do if she finds out that her daughter has become a murderer?
– My sister will take care of her," Jane whispered quietly, but the determination on her face was replaced by a shadow of worry. – Miss Vivian, all I need from you is a little 'yes,' and then your life… yours and Richard's… will be a Paradise on earth!
– Listen to me carefully: I forbid you even to think about it! – Vivian said in a stern tone, looking into her friend's eyes. – Get these absurd thoughts out of your head! Now! Jeremy is terrible, yes! He is a monster, and I hate him! But he doesn't deserve to die… Although, who am I trying to fool? – she suddenly grinned.
– You see! A few drops of poison in his evening brandy, and…
– No. I'll say it again, "No." He'll die one day without our help. From alcohol, from an accident, from illness… A year from now, two years from now, five years from now, ten years from now… But he will die. And I'll outlive him. I will. – Vivian put her arms round Jane, and she clung to her as if she were her own sister. – We'll get through this, my dear. We'll get through it all.
– As you say, Miss Vivian," said the maid, in a slightly displeased tone. – As you say! But if you should change your mind…
– 'That won't happen,' she said firmly.
'Who knows! – Jane thought to herself. – I'll never let him whip you again, my dear Miss Vivian!"
– Did my consort say you were in love? – Jeremy asked after the young hunters had eaten a hearty lunch, hiding from the rain in a small wooden hut built in the thick of the forest for stranded travellers.
– In love," Anthony confirmed, and drew the smoke of a large, expensive cigar into his lungs.
– In love with whom? – Jeremy clarified and took a puff.
– Let it be a secret.
– Why the overtures?
– I want my engagement to this girl to be as big a surprise to you as your wedding to my cousin was to me," Anthony smiled good-naturedly. – But, my friend, confess: has it made you happy?
– Oh, I am happier than anyone else. – Jeremy looked at his friend carefully and, squinting his eyes, asked: – Why the curiosity? Was it a conversation with Vivian that prompted you to ask?
– Vivian? Of course not. She is content and happy," Anthony waved him away.
– Did she say so herself? – Mr. Wington asked again.
– 'Yes.
– Do you think she loves me?
– We didn't talk about that," Anthony lied lightly, twirling his cigar in his fingers. Jeremy's strange, inappropriate questions made him uncomfortable, but he was not going to give away Vivian and her true attitude to her husband, so he hurried to change the subject unobtrusively. – But what are you? "Has the The House become a thing of the past? Or are you still enjoying?
– I'm a family man now, and hopefully I'll be a father soon," Jeremy said instead. – To hell with old troubles. To hell with prostitutes when I have such a gorgeous wife. And you, brother monk, I take it you haven't been to our pleasure house in almost six months.
– That's right. You're right: we've wised up, so to speak, and realised that reputations are hard to earn but so easy to lose. And I need my good reputation so that my bride-to-be won't feel uncomfortable knowing what kind of life I led before I met her. – Anthony thought for a moment, puffed on his cigar, and then, exhaling a thick white smoke, added quietly: "Yes, and, I should say, our behaviour at the Den could be called boyish. By the way, did I tell you that I've found a small but cosy home?
– You didn't, but I congratulate you on it," Jeremy said with a smile. – But who encouraged you to take this step? Your caring, perhaps even overprotective mother?
– She did, too. And Vivian," Anthony admitted, and grinned derisively, remembering how he had deceived himself about the love and passion he had felt for his cousin. But he did not wish to tell his friend of this shameful love: what would Jeremy think if he learnt that his best friend was in love with his present wife? – But more to the point, Viscount Willoughby. He had seen me not quite sober after the night at the Den, and his reaction, or rather warning, had greatly influenced my judgement.
– Old man Willoughby! The cunning fox! My father once told me that in his youth this ascetic had been involved in adventures and scandals more than once. But he's taken care of your reputation! Bravo! – Jeremy laughed loudly. – Well, who became the lady of your heart, you will not tell me, so I propose to continue the hunt!
– Jeremy, tell me…" Anthony began, but remembering that his cousin had asked him not to reveal to her husband what he had learnt about the bruises on her neck and wrists, he immediately found another question. – Are you aware of the fact that the high society of London is surprised that you and your wife have not appeared at balls and soirees for a long time?
– Really? – The man replied indifferently.
– Yes, Miss Salton informed me of it yesterday," the young Cranford confirmed his words. – Everyone's been asking what's happened to dear Mrs. Wington. Where has she gone? After all, Vivian is quite popular in the community.
– Hm, we just don't want to go to balls," Jeremy shrugged. – But now I understand that we must make a public appearance, so that ladies and gentlemen may be assured that Mrs. Wington is alive and well, and that her husband is blowing carefully the dust off her.
"So carefully that he leaves bruises on her skin," thought Anthony grudgingly, but remembering his cousin's words that it was the result of her and her husband's bed-play, he decided that the Wingtons were free to do as they pleased in their bedroom.
Putting out their cigars, the hunters gave the remainder of their lunch to the dogs, put on their wet hats and cloaks, walked out of the shelter into the rain, and mounted their horses, which in a moment were tapping their hoofs on the muddy, viscous dark ground. The hunting dogs Aurelius and Mark kept pace and howled with joy as they enjoyed the fast run.
***
Despite the rain, the mistress of Wington Hall was full of life: dear Charlotte made her glow with joy. How long had it been since the friends had spent time together! Yesterday's meeting, which had lasted little more than an hour, did not count, for today they could spend a long day together, just the two of them, without Anthony, without Jeremy.
Vivian was again wearing a long-sleeved dress, and her neck was still adorned with a silk scarf.
– What an interesting style you have chosen for yourself! – Miss Salton admired. – I didn't know that such beautiful light scarves were in fashion in London! I think it is time I had one.
– I don't know whether it is fashionable to wear such a scarf, but I like it," said Vivian, with a smile on her face and bitterness in her heart. – But tell me, my dear, have your parents still not sent you a single letter?
– Oh, yes! How good of you to remind me of that! – Charlotte thought of it. – Just this morning I received a long-awaited letter from Denmark! The parents were so busy trying to keep their holdings in Norway that they had forgotten all about their daughter! – She laughed softly. – But I'm not offended with them, not in the least!
– And what do they write? – Vivian asked. – 'I hope they will soon return to London?
– Exactly! I think they are on their way! – Charlotte glowed. – And they even managed not to lose their Norwegian possessions! They have to pay double tax to Sweden… But it's better than nothing.
– I'm glad to hear that. It must be terrible for them, being so far away from their only daughter… More tea? – smiled the hostess of the house.
The girls were sitting in the huge, cosy drawing room, in front of the late Mr. Wington's favourite fireplace, drinking tea and sweets.
– Yes, I suppose so. Your father must miss you very much too," Charlotte said softly. – But when shall I get to meet him? He must be a very honourable man.
– When is he coming? – Vivian raised an eyebrow and handed her friend a cup full of fresh tea. – Alas, he doesn't know that himself. In every letter he writes only about his print shop. That print shop is his life, you know. It was that damned print shop that ruined us. But now that I'm a rich lady, the Cowell family business will be revived. Fortunately, Jeremy lets me send quite a lot of money to Casterbridge.
– That's truly kind of him… – Miss Salton tasted her tea and then, looked round and said quietly: – Please tell me your husband didn't scold you yesterday. I can't bear the thought of it.
– Don't worry, my dear, he didn't," Vivian replied calmly, thinking she had been wise to hide her swollen palms under her lace gloves.
And she was telling the truth: Jeremy hadn't raised his voice at her. He raised his whip at her. But Charlotte will never know that, of course.
– He's so strange, your husband," Charlotte grumbled. – Honestly, I'm afraid of him! He's got you locked up in a golden cage, the very best kind of pretender. I can't even find the right words to express my displeasure!
– You are right about that, my dear Charlotte," said Vivian quietly. She held her cup of tea in the palms of her hands, as if trying to warm them. – But let's not talk about him. He is not worthy of us spending even a minute of our time together on him. My husband is out hunting now, and I hope he will not return until late at night. – 'And so tired that he will leave me alone,' mentally added the girl.
– That's even better! – Charlotte said confidently. – They say the Duke of Nightingale and Miss Beckley's engagement ball is in the very midst of preparations, and some say that London has never seen such a splendid ball! That the Prince Regent himself will be there! – she chattered, forgetting Mr. Wington's unfortunate presence. – But poor Miss Beckley! You will outshine her with your beauty on such an important evening!
– I'm not sure I'll be able to go to the ball," Vivian confessed frankly. – Do you remember when I said I wouldn't be disappointed to see the Duke lead his bride to dance? I lied.
– Oh, no, poor thing… You still love him! – Charlotte gasped.
– Do I? – her friend asked thoughtfully. – I don't know if it's love… I don't know if I can love a man after all the horrors of marriage… But the thought that if he were my husband, my life would be full of colour… And there wouldn't be… How can I define it softer… There wouldn't be this hatred… At this thought I feel hurt and sad.. – But then Vivian smiled broadly, set her cup aside and threw two small logs into the fireplace. – The damp is getting to my bones. This house is so big that I can't keep warm, even in my warm dresses. Even my favourite shawl doesn't keep me warm. Jeremy reproaches me for not carrying our first-born child. He wants so much to be a father… I think I would like motherhood… Just think: a little ball of happiness, yours, dear, warm… But I'm afraid. I'm afraid that the baby will tie me to Jeremy so tightly that I'll never be able to leave him, even if I wanted to.
– Give up those thoughts, my dear," Charlotte said affectionately. – This child will bring you happiness.
– Either happiness or sorrow," Vivian replied sadly. – 'But I love children. I love them very much. And Jeremy is so anxious for an heir!
– My dear, God will give you a child when He sees fit. Then it's not time yet. – Charlotte finished her tea quickly and announced triumphantly: – "Now take me to the piano! I've learnt a new English ballad!
The girls spent the whole afternoon together. After a rather late dinner Charlotte went home, as she was tired and did not want to meet the master of the house, who, fortunately, had not yet arrived from hunting. It was hard to part, but Vivian promised to come to Lillehus tomorrow after lunch.
When Miss Salton had left Wington Hall, Vivian retired to the library, and hoping that her hated husband would not be home for at least another couple of hours, took one of the books, sat down in a chair by the fireplace, and, opening the first page, ran her fingers lovingly over the fine black letters on the snow-white paper.
– Please, Lord, let him not come back… Let Jane come in now and tell me that my husband was accidentally killed on a hunting trip! – She closed her eyes and whispered with emotion.
Suddenly loud footsteps were heard outside the door, as if the Lord had heard Vivian's prayer. The door to the library opened with a violent rush, but it was not Jane, but none other than her husband who stood before Mrs. Wington's eyes.
"Alive… Safe and sound!" – thought the girl with despair, but to hide her disappointment she forced herself to smile.
Mr. Wington was in a bad mood. In spite of his successful hunt, he was cold, hungry as a wolf, and cursing his hat, which he had lost in a swift, wide woodland stream.
– Are you here, my love? – he threw to his wife as he approached the fireplace.
The cheerful hot flames were so pleasantly warming in this cold rainy weather!
– My dear, you need to change into dry clothes," Vivian said softly, putting the book aside. She realised that her husband's return had put an end to all her plans for the day.
– That'll do. We'll go to the bedroom soon anyway," Jeremy replied and glanced at his wife. – How was your day, my dear?
– Oh, I spent it with Charlotte. We sang and gossiped a lot, as all girls do! – Vivian laughed falsely. – She's such a talented pianist that I even wanted to take piano lessons.
– That's a lovely idea. But the teacher should be a woman. – Jeremy sat down in a nearby chair and glanced at the book his wife was holding. – Byron? Do you like romance?
– This collection of poems brings me peace of mind," Vivian replied. – When I was younger, I dreamed of meeting my knight. Brave. Fearless. Faithful. – She smiled dreamily. – But such heroes are only in books.
– You're right. I'm glad to have such an inquisitive wife, but books about knights and their exploits for the ladies make me despise them," Jeremy said with a mocking smile.
Vivian wisely remained silent, smiled, and folded her palms in her lap.
– How was your hunt, my love? – She asked in an even tone, knowing that such questions flattered her husband's ego.
– It rained in my eyes, and my hat fell into the river, but I shot a full bag of game," Mr. Wington said, pleased with himself. – But, devil, I'm hungry as a stray dog!
– I'll have dinner laid out for you, my dear.
– Oh, don't. I haven't the strength for food.
"Fine! You're tired, you scoundrel! Then you won't touch me tonight!" – Viviane was relieved.
– My poor husband! You should go to bed now. I will read some more, if you please," she said with a soft smile.
– You will come with me. I've been dreaming about you all this damn wet day," Jeremy said. A lustful smile appeared on his face, and his gaze seemed to go under the muslin of his wife's dress and touch her body. – And you will give me your best caresses, my love.
At these words, nausea came to Vivian's throat.
No. Oh, no! Not that!
The "caresses" he had made her give him! "Caresses" that made her hate herself and feel disgusted with herself.
– Jeremy, I -" the girl burst out, and she turned her face away to the fireplace.
– What, darling? – he asked quietly, watching her like a cat watching a mouse.
– I can't do it any more! – Vivian said in one breath and looked at her husband's face, so ominous in the bright firelight. – I wanted to tell you that yesterday, but you wouldn't listen to me.
Jeremy chuckled wickedly.
– Why not, my love? – He asked creepily.
Vivian placed her hands on her stomach, looked at her husband again, and then smiled with a calm, joyful smile.
– Because I'm carrying our baby under my heart.