Читать книгу Wingless Bird - Анна Морион - Страница 8

– I wish it were a masquerade ball," Vivian sighed when, at an early breakfast, Lady Cranford handed her an official invitation from the Duchess of Marlborough herself to what was to be the debut of "my dear niece," as the mistress of Greenhall had written in a letter to the Duchess. – I would be a forest nymph and carry a little flute! And you, cousin? What would you dress up as?

Anthony immediately pictured Vivian in the garb of a forest nymph, namely a short green dress, with a brightly coloured floral wreath on her head and her long red hair loose, and the image captivated his mind. And then this nymph would sit on his lap and play a beautiful quiet melody on her flute. And then he would gently take the flute from the nymph Vivian, run his fingers through her luxurious hair and kiss her soft lips. Yes, they must be very soft, her lips....

– Anthony? – suddenly, as through a mist, he heard the voice of the one he had seen in his dreams. The young gentleman blinked, banishing the sweet picture from his imagination, and smiled. – Alas, my dear Vivian, I have no thoughts on the subject. But you would have my permission to order me to be what you please.

"What familiarity! Calling each other by their first names!" – frowned Lady Cranford, listening in amazement to the dialogue between son and niece. It was thanks to her that Vivian now held in her hands an elegant invitation from the Duchess of Marlborough, for it was in answer to a polite request from her old friend Lady Cranford.

– In that case, I would have you dressed as a faun! You would hold a golden goblet full of wine in your hand all evening, but you wouldn't be able to take a sip. Just think what a merry couple we'd make! – Vivian, full of delight at her idea, clapped her hands and laughed a beautiful melodious laugh.

"If I were a faun – I'd chase you everywhere, all eternity, my sweet cousin," ran through Anthony's mind, and he chuckled faintly at this embarrassing thought of his. – What does mythology say? What pleasures come when a faun captures a nymph in his embrace? If you only knew, red-haired lovely, how eager I am for your caresses, you would not tease me with images that make me burn with the flames of lust!"

But neither Vivian nor Lady Cranford noticed his sneer.

– And you, auntie? What would you dress up as? – The girl asked.

Lady Cranford smiled: now that she was sure that Anthony had no romantic feelings for her cousin, and that she had none for him, the shadow in her heart was gone, and her niece no longer seemed an ungrateful adventuress.

– What an interesting question! – replied the Countess readily. – I think I would order myself a costume of Artemis.

– Artemis? – Anthony interjected. – You wouldn't mind using a bow and arrow as well, would you?

– You may be surprised, my dear, but before I was married I was very fond of hunting, and often hunted in my father's grounds," his mother said, her blue eyes shining with a soft light. – I had my black Arabian horse, a gift from my father for my fifteenth birthday, saddled for me almost every day. Shadow was the name of my horse, and he was the fastest and quickest horse in all England.

– Why did you stop hunting? – The fact that his mother was a keen hunter was a revelation to young Cranford, for up to that moment he had been convinced that her heart was too soft to kill defenceless animals. He could not recall a single occasion when his mother wished to hunt, so he hunted at first with his elder brother, and when the latter married and left London, Anthony went out hunting alone or with friends.

– Your father forbade me. He thought hunting was unladylike," said Lady Cranford sullenly. The light in her eyes faded and her lips turned into a thin line.

– I didn't know father was so adamant," said Anthony thoughtfully. – I always thought there was peace and quiet and respect between you two.

– Marriage is not an easy thing, my son. When you are married to a pretty girl, you will realise that marriage and family are perpetual give-and-take. And even if you want something badly enough, you can't always get it. – Talking about the past was not to the Countess's liking, and she wished to interrupt the conversation on the subject. – But, Vivian, tell us about your impressions of London. I am anxious to hear how you found it.

– Oh, Auntie, London is wonderful! I am so glad and grateful to you for allowing me to come! I shall never forget your kindness," smiled the girl.

"I hope you won't forget it when we find you a suitable spouse" – thought her aunt, but said aloud:

– 'You are not to be thanked, my dear. You are my sister's daughter, and how could I refuse the help of my own blood?

– Mother, your kindness has no bounds," said Anthony earnestly.

– 'You flatter me, my son.

– Not at all. Do you agree with me, dear cousin?

– Your son is right, aunty: you have such a good heart! – Vivian replied, but the words were false, for in her heart she thought her aunt was a tyrant and a despot. But she could not tell the Cranfords, could she? Where it was necessary to lie for the sake of achieving a goal, Miss Cowell was prepared to lie and express feigned admiration.

But Lady Cranford did not let herself be deceived: her intuition told her that Vivian had said these beautiful words only under Anthony's pressure. Still, she was pleased with this beautiful flattery, and hoped she could build up a relationship of trust with her niece. Besides, the Countess had always dreamed of a daughter, but the Lord had given her two sons, whom she loved more than herself.

– My dear Vivian, you have given me a good idea," she said.

Vivian smiled incomprehensibly.

– A masquerade. We will definitely have a masquerade," the lady of the house explained.

The news pleased both her niece and her son: Vivian had never been to such a party before, and Anthony was pleased that the masquerade would relieve his boredom for one evening. After all, now that young Cranford had made up his mind not to attend the Den, and to guard his reputation carefully, he had not so much amusement to offer.

– Oh, auntie, I never dreamed of this! – gasped Vivian, and this time her surprise was genuine. – But when shall we expect the event?

– Perhaps in the autumn. I think September will be quite warm," replied the Countess.

– May I ask you one perhaps awkward question? – her niece suddenly asked.

Lady Cranford squinted her eyes slightly, but nodded gracefully.

– Will you send an invitation to the masquerade to the de Croix family?

– Of course, my dear, otherwise it would be bad manners. But how do you know of the de Croix family? – The niece's question took Lady Cranford by surprise: the girl had only recently arrived in the city, and already knew about the family of the first beauty of London!

– Yesterday, in one of the shops, I noticed that a dark-haired, beautiful girl was following me, and I asked Jane if she knew her," Viviane explained calmly, but not wanting to tell the whole truth, she added: – 'Do you think, auntie, that Mademoiselle de Croix could be my friend?

Anthony cast an interested glance at her cousin: would she wish to be the friend of one who was evidently not at all pleased at Vivian's appearance in London? The naive, good-hearted nymph! How could she not break her soft heart against the callousness and coldness of the French beauty!

– But, Viviane, why do you desire such a friend as Mademoiselle de Croix? – She is beautiful, but the only thing she wants is a favourable marriage.

– My dear cousin, you make it sound like a reproach," Vivian said softly. – I wish the same thing.

– I don't think you're trying to catch the wrong bird, dear cousin," Anthony retorted. – It is common knowledge in London that Mademoiselle de Croix wishes to marry the Duke of Nightingale, and flirts shamelessly with him every time she meets him.

– Are you comparing this girl to a bird? – his cousin replied with a laugh.

– Do you find such a comparison unworthy? – he grinned. – Girls like her are birds, but they are wingless. They cannot fly. Their destiny is to stay where they were born and walk on the ground.

– In your opinion, cousin, am I a wingless bird? – Vivian grinned coldly: What a cheeky fellow! He thinks that anyone who was not lucky enough to be born into a family of wealthy aristocrats has no moral right to dreams and aspirations!

Mademoiselle de Croix's motives and reputation were indifferent to Miss Cowell, but she was deeply offended: Anthony had unknowingly wounded her by openly saying that "wingless birds" like her could never escape their poverty, especially through marriage. "No self-respecting aristocrat of the Duke of Nightingale's rank would marry you, Vivian. Abandon your hopes and dreams: you are nothing," was how an angry Vivian interpreted her cousin's words. But she tried to keep calm, for she knew that emotion would betray her and give the Cranfords her plans, which they must never know.

– Alas, my dear Viviane, that is so. But what distinguishes you from Mademoiselle de Croix is your sober judgement: for you do not, I hope, allow imagination and pride to rob you of your grasp of reality. You are anxious to marry well, but you will not chase after the phantom hopes of a marriage with a man who is fortunate enough to have a high, high-profile title," Anthony smiled softly.

"How wrong you are, my cruel cousin!" – flashed through the girl's mind. Smiling sarcastically, Vivian brought the porcelain cup of fragrant freshly brewed coffee to her lips.

– And yet you are unfair to Mademoiselle de Croix," she finally said grimly. – And I will prove it to you. We shall become close friends, and I hope she will become the consort of the Duke of Nightingale himself.

– That will never happen. – Anthony could see clearly how his beautiful cousin's mood had suddenly fallen, but he was unwilling to back down. – Duke Nightingale will not marry even Aphrodite, if she is poorer than himself. Besides, there are rumours that he will soon marry Admiral Beckley's daughter, who has royal blood in her. So when you become Mademoiselle de Croix's friend, try to open her eyes to the bitter reality.

– You are cruel, cousin. Have you no heart? – Miss Cowell frowned and rose abruptly from her chair: her blood was boiling with anger, and she was determined to leave her cousin's and aunt's company before the volcano exploded in her. – Please forgive me, auntie: I have a headache. I always get a headache when the sky is covered with such dark, rainy clouds.

– Of course, my dear, go to your chambers and lie down," Lady Cranford said to her gently: she was glad that there had been a misunderstanding between her son and her niece, for it might have led to a cessation of communication between them. She had a hope of that.

– Could you send Jane to me with a wet towel? – Vivian asked.

– 'I will.

Vivian made a deep curtsy and retired to her chambers. Now that she was free from the scrutiny of her aunt's and her cousin's watchful eyes, her cheeks flamed with anger, and her heart was full of indignation and contempt for Anthony, who regarded her as a "wingless bird". Vivian put her fingers to her forehead and wrinkled her nose: she had a real headache and wished she could lie down.

The Cranfords went on with their breakfast, but a few minutes later there was a low rumble of thunder that made them hurriedly drink their morning coffee and go about their business.

– But, Miss Viviane, what do you want with this De Croix girl? You have me! – Jane asked quietly, sitting at the head of her friend's bed and wiping her forehead with a cold, wet towel. She knew of Vivian's plans and feared that her idol would forget about her, Jane, and trade her for the "French rat."

– Silly girl, I don't want her friendship at all! – Vivian laughed at this and took Jane's hand. – 'And there's no way I'm leaving you!

– But then why do you want it? – wondered the confused Jane.

Vivian smiled ironically and replied:

– 'Because, my dear Jane, a wise man once said: "Keep your friends close to you and your enemies even closer!".