Читать книгу The Bird has got wings - Анна Морион - Страница 2

Darkness was falling on London, and the revelry was in full swing in the magnificent, huge Wingtons' mansion, and it seemed that the best-dressed ladies and gentlemen had no intention of sleeping that night. Musicians played tune after tune, the waxed parquet clattered under a hundred heels, and the air shook with the clinking of crystal glasses and plates. The house, lit by hundreds of candles, was stuffy, and all the windows were open wide. Servants dressed in beautiful livery swept through the corridors and between the dancers, bringing expensive golden champagne, wine as scarlet as blood, aged wine, and whiskey and brandy to the many guests invited to the ball. A ball given by the young Wington couple in honour of the consummation of their marriage.

In spite of the sudden and overwhelming news that Jeremy Wington, now the owner of a vast fortune, the desired groom even for the daughters of noble titled families, was married to the Countess of Cranford's well-known niece, that beautiful girl with hair the colour of flame, the rich ladies and gentlemen did not hesitate to send congratulations and presents to the young couple. All wished to show their attention and honour to young Wington and his lovely wife, for they remembered that not long ago they had treated the waif Vivian Cowell with disdain and even contempt, but hoped to erase this fact from her memory by expensive presents, flattering phrases, and false smiles. And when from the Wingtons came the elegant, gilded invitations to a ball (the very first that was organised in their rich house, because the late old man Wington, that miser, did not want to spend money on balls and preferred to go to balls and evenings arranged by others), the upper class could not refuse. The reasons were several: to establish good relations with the young rich man Wington, to see his huge, luxurious house, and, of course, to gaze at the red-haired upstart who had managed to twist the poor young man round her finger, who must not have noticed that he had fallen under her spell.

That Jeremy Wington was crazy about his beautiful wife was as evident as the fact that she was already well into her role as the life partner of an untold rich man, and was enjoying it: the dress in which she had given the ball was magnificent, embroidered with patterns, and sat on her beautiful figure as if it were a perfect fit. The young Mrs. Wington looked like a real model of modern fashion: her hair was braided into a beautiful plait, which in turn was fastened at the back of her head with an antique comb, and her beautiful white forehead was framed by fiery twisted strands, which gave her the appearance of a Greek goddess, and her emerald eyes shone proudly, as if to say, "Now I am one of you, and you dare not refuse to accept it!". And she was right: the recent waif had become too rich for high society not to accept her and treat her favourably, but still with some apprehension.

Vivian had received so many compliments when she met her guests that she was disgusted by the overt flattery, but her husband quietly reminded her that this was the real face of London's upper class-it was full of poison and sweetness at the same time. Jeremy squeezed the palm of his wife's hand, clad in a white glove above the elbow, and encouraged her with smiles and quietly mocking jokes at the arriving guests.

Until a month ago, Jeremy's thoughts had been free of Vivian and her beauty, and he had no intention of marrying her. Yes, he was dazzled by the fire of her hair, her white skin, her witchy green eyes, and her bright, most beautiful smile, but his mind wouldn't let him think about her. Besides, content with his bachelor life and his amusements in the Lair, the young man didn't even think of marrying at all. "Why should I marry so young, if I am soon to inherit all my sullen father's fortune?" – he thought, and preferred to give his younger years to alcohol, friends and girls who he knew were not trying to pull him into the bondage of marriage, namely prostitutes and residents of London's brothels. But the morning he had picked up Miss Cowell in one of the noisy squares, sick and tired, and the day he had spent with her, so pale, haggard, but still angelic, had made his heart and soul inflame with passion and love for her. He brought Vivian to his father's house, even though the latter was clearly displeased and even against it. Jeremy was ready to tear his strong heart out of his chest and offer it to the poor girl in place of her weak one. She charmed him with her illness, with her helplessness, as a fragile flower suddenly charms a knight long since calloused in body and soul. He fell at her feet. He desired her. When she asked him to take her to the Saltons', Jeremy was surprised at her request, for he thought it his duty to notify the Cranfords that Vivian was in his house, but she insisted, and Jeremy had no choice but to fulfil her wish…

– Smile, my dear," Vivian whispered in her husband's ear, breaking him out of his memories. – And what made you think so much?

– Oh, my love, I am only remembering the day when my heart was set on fire with love for you," he whispered to her, and his eyes, shining with happiness, confirmed his words. – Do you remember that misty cold morning when you were lost and I found you and took you to my home?

– That morning… My dear, I couldn't forget it even if I wanted to," Vivian answered quietly with some irony in her voice, remembering how her aunt had thrown her out on the street.

But she had only learnt that it was Jeremy who had found her on the street, taken her in and taken care of her, when three weeks ago he had come so unexpectedly to the Salton house and, after spending a couple of hours with her and Charlotte in the garden, had suddenly asked Charlotte to leave him and her friend alone. When Miss Salton left the drawing-room with a broad but uncomprehending smile, Jeremy got down on one knee before Vivian and, without wasting time on a long monologue, confessed his love for her and asked her to be his wife.

– That morning I didn't know that my life would change so drastically! – Jeremy laughed softly. – I wish your cousin had been at our wedding. He's my best friend, you know.

– You're the one who insisted on the wedding happening so soon! – Vivian reminded him with a laugh. – So soon that my family could not have travelled from Casterbridge in time to attend!

– Forgive me, my love, I was so eager to possess you that I could not wait. But, as you asked, I have sent your family five thousand pounds sterling, and I think they should be pleased with it," Jeremy whispered, running his fingers along his wife's neck.

– 'Darling, you're forgetting yourself! We're not in our bedroom now, we're in the middle of guests! – Vivian frowned and gently pulled her husband's fingers away from her skin.

– To hell with these puffed-up hens and turkeys! You know I want you with every fibre of my being! – Jeremy whispered assertively, touching his lips to his beautiful young wife's cheek. – And, my love, when this damned ball is over, I will not let you sleep before I give you my caresses.

– Jeremy, darling, I promise you I will," Vivian replied patiently. – But at the moment, we are hosts to a ball and we have to entertain the guests whether we want to or not.

– You are simply irresistible, my love. No woman can match you in beauty or grace. But you're right, and I'll save my desires for later," Jeremy agreed with a predatory smile. His eyes followed every emotion on his wife's face, every movement. He needed to know that she belonged to him alone and thought of him alone. He loved her. Hotly and fiercely. Vivian had become the centre of his universe.

Instead of answering, Vivian gently ran her palm over Jeremy's cheek and looked into his eyes, as if confirming that he was the master of both her heart and her body.

"My body belongs to you, but you will never command my heart or my soul," the girl thought smiling sweetly at her spouse. She had no feelings for her spouse except gratitude that he had descended from the height of his golden mountain to her and made her his lawful wedded wife.

Mrs. Wington. Mistress of the huge Wington Hall, a mansion built of light-coloured stones, more like one of the royal palaces than the residence of persons who do not possess even the most trifling of titles. But who needs a title when all that London high society values is money? And the Wingtons had plenty of money. That's why that evening those who held titles, with smiles of envy at the new position of the former streetwalker and admiration for her beauty and majesty, came to this mansion to drink expensive wines and champagne, eat expensive food and desserts, dance and gossip.

– And what a gossipy girl that Miss Cowell is! – standing in a corner of the ballroom, with a glass of champagne in her hand, whispered in her friend's ear one of the mothers of this year's young debutantes. – They say her aunt has not given a cent of dowry for her! Lady Cranford had left London in such a hurry… was it not for that reason?

– Beatrice is a decent lady. I'm sure if she hadn't helped her niece with the dowry, Mr. Wington would never have married her. He cannot be so foolish! – replied the second lady, and, hiding her face behind her lace fan, glanced at the owners of the house, who were still standing at the door, talking to Lady Marlborough. – Look how beautiful Vivian is! Lily confessed to me that she was afraid to appear in the same hall as her… But, thank goodness, now this red-haired angel is married, and our girls just need to make her acquaintance!

– Yes, such a fiancé is missing… We must find our girls now, and order them to try to become Mrs. Wington's friends… Here they are! Come along, my dear, let's not delay! I'm sure everyone wants to be friends with the newly married wife of such a rich man!

– I hope she'll give our daughters a few tips on how to catch a rich husband in her arms… She's been doing just fine!

– But Mr. Wington married her so hastily, and his father is still in mourning," said one of the gossips. – There's a rumour that she seduced him.

– And I heard that he seduced her… But look at the two of them: they have eyes for each other! I think they're in hot love! – objected the gossipy friend.

– Oh, my dear, love comes and goes… Let's see if he regrets this marriage! He could have married anyone, even an earl's daughter, but for some reason he chose Miss Cowell… No, no, something made them marry, and I am more than sure that the maiden made him compromise himself, and he, as a man of honour, hastened to correct his fatal mistake. Ah, that cunning fox! Shining like gold in the sun!

And the two friends went towards their daughters, who in their turn were gossiping about the same thing as their mothers.

How true were the words of one of these gossipers! Vivian, who was envied, called a "witch" and regarded as a "tenacious maiden," was becoming more popular by the minute, even though most of the guests had not changed their opinion of her. But so beautiful, graceful, and above all, rich, young Miss Wington could not help but become a new star, so suddenly shone in the sky of London. All those who had been strangers to Miss Cowell were now drawn to the brilliant, high-society beauty of Mrs. Wington, and desired her friendship or even a pinch of her attention. If the girls and their mothers hoped to receive Vivian's tutelage, the single and even married men could henceforth admire this fiery swan and sigh furtively when she passed by or bestowed upon them her incomparable smile. After all, it was much easier to admire a young, rich, married beauty than a poor, looking for a spouse as a homeless woman.

When at last the hosts of the ball were able to move away from the doors, for all who had answered the invitations had already appeared, Vivian made her way to Charlotte.

Miss Salton, dressed in one of her new dresses, which favourably emphasised her high firm breasts and transformed her full figure into a rather graceful one, was not propped up against a wall this evening, nor did she stand alone at the window, nor was her gaze full of sadness. On the contrary: the girl was invited to every dance, and her eyes sparkled with merriment, for the other guests, seeing her in a new outfit, with a new hairdo and new shoes, realised that Miss Salton, it turned out, was quite nice, and some even said, beautiful. Danish fashion was not to Charlotte's liking, but London fashion, and the advice of her dear friend Vivian, made the girl an attractive bride, though she kept silent about the thirty thousands of dowry. Several young gentlemen hovered round her and joked desperately, eager to hear her ringing laughter. They told her funny stories, shared the latest gossip, and looked at the girl with interest. What attracted them to her? Her father's wealth? Her wide, genuine smile? Her proud posture and majestic figure? Charlotte asked herself these questions, but did not try to find out the truth, for she was in no hurry to marry, and consequently all these gentlemen were no success to her, though she laughed at their jokes and danced with them. Charlotte had made up her mind to live as she pleased and was no longer tormented by the fact that her person was not interesting to others, so such attention from rather handsome and stately men did not make her blush and flirt desperately with them. She just danced, laughed and was happy.

– I beg your pardon, gentlemen, let me steal Miss Salton for a little while," said Vivian with a smile to her friend's suitors, and, in spite of their feeble protests, led Charlotte away to a remote corner where the girls could have a more intimate conversation. – My dear, I can see you have no rest from the attentions of these gentlemen! – giggled Vivian.

– Oh, I'm sick of them," Charlotte said, and then added, "I'm so glad for you! – I'm so happy for you! Of course, I've said it for the thousandth time, but I never seem to tire of it! Viviane, perhaps you don't notice that everyone around you is talking only about you… .

– I know what they say! – laughed Viviane. – 'Viscountess Russell has called me "a thorn that's wrapped round a tulip," but of course that was said behind my back. But you know me, my dear: I don't care at all for the opinions of strangers!

– That old woman is like a bag of bones… But you are not the only one who has been honoured by her attention: poor Mr. Hilloby has caused her a storm of remarks about his toilet water… "He's wearing worse perfume than a woman!" she grumbled. Such an unpleasant person! – Charlotte wrinkled her nose. – The Duke of Nightingale never arrived?

– Not only did he not come, but he did not deign to answer the invitation. They say he has been very seldom seen in society since his engagement to Miss Beckley," she shrugged her shoulders. – Fortunately, I did not have to grieve long. My Jeremy loves me terribly. So much so that sometimes I am even afraid of his love," she added quietly, and Charlotte saw a shadow creep across Vivian's face.

– If you have something on your mind, please share it with me," Charlotte said affectionately. – I'll always be there for you. And it is easier on the soul when another soul takes some of the burden.

Vivian hesitated: should she share the details of her marriage with her friend? Marriage was a matter between two people, and what went on behind closed doors should remain between spouses, as society said. But she desperately wanted Charlotte to embrace her, to dry her tears and tell her that eventually this suffering, mental and physical, would end. But Vivian could not confess to her friend that by marrying a man she had seen only twice in her life, she had willingly surrendered herself to his fierce, burning love for her.

When Jeremy proposed to her… Jeremy Wington! The one who had just lost his father and inherited his fortune (The Times wrote about it)! The rich as Croesus handsome young man, who threw his love and his money at her feet, first astonished Vivian with his proposal, and then, after listening to her doubts that she, a waif, was not worthy to be his spouse, firmly assured her that all he needed was herself, and he would never reproach her for not bringing him a pound sterling. "You, dear Miss Cowell, are the greatest treasure, the greatest jewel to me. And if you become my wife, I promise you will never hear a word from me that I once took you as a penniless girl. I love you. Desperately and sincerely," said Jeremy at that moment, and his voice was so firm and his look so resolute that Vivian realised what an unexpected, wonderful surprise Fate had given her. And the girl said: "yes," and a week and a half later Jeremy put a beautiful ring with a large emerald on her finger and ushered her into his London home as his lawful wedded wife, life partner, and mistress of all that he owned. "I've got my luck by the tail!" – thought Vivian, looking round the huge, beautiful mansion, standing almost in the heart of London. The heavy ring on her ring finger and the emerald, as green as Mrs. Wington's eyes, reminded her that this was no dream, that Lady Cranford's poor relative was now the wife of a rich, handsome young gentleman. But her first wedding night, when Jeremy threw her innocent wife into the maelstrom of his passion, made her cry with fear of him and his burning love to her…

– Vivian? Darling, are you all right? – Vivian heard Charlotte's concerned voice as if through a fog.

Blinking, Vivian returned her thoughts from the master bedroom to the ballroom and, looking around, replied with a smile:

– I'm perfectly fine! It's just… I was just trying to remember about whether we had sent an invitation to the de Croix family," she found herself.

"No, Charlotte won't know about anything. Let her think me happy," decided the girl. She knew that her husband was watching her. Watching her like an inquisitor watches his victim.

– Ah, yes, I don't think I've seen a single de Croix all evening! – Charlotte giggled. – But I wish I could have seen Mademoiselle de Croix's face! Just think of it: the Duke of Nightingale marrying Miss Beckley, and you, too, did not hesitate and married very well! Poor Lucy! I think, with her father's reputation, she'll be an old maid for life!

– I couldn't agree more. God be with her, that Frenchwoman… But she'll never set foot in my house! – Vivian winked at her friend. – But it seems that a new dance is about to begin, and I promised it to my husband.

– He loves you so much," Charlotte smiled. – He keeps his eyes on you.

– Well, it's wonderful to be loved by your husband, isn't it? – Vivian said with irony in her voice, but with a sudden coldness in her bosom.

When the music died down, the guests, satisfied and tired, went home, the candlelight, which had recently brightened the whole house, was extinguished, and the servants began to clean up after the merry and noisy ball.

Walking towards their matrimonial bedroom, hand in hand, the newlyweds Wingtons were silent. The light of the three candles sitting securely in the silver candlestick Jeremy carried in his hand danced and made the shadows of those walking shiver. But it was not only the shadows that trembled – it was Vivian's soul that trembled.

– Darling, this ball has made me so tired," Vivian said with a shy smile. – Please let me spend the night alone in one of the guest rooms.

– No," Jeremy said and turned his face to her face and smiled crookedly. – Are you afraid of me, my love?

– Not at all," Vivian answered him calmly, but his beautiful, predatory smile made her swallow. – I'm just very tired and would like to sleep alone tonight. And you've had too much to drink tonight, haven't you?

– No," Jeremy said firmly. – You are my wife, and I want you.

They stopped in front of the tall doors leading to their bedroom.

Jeremy opened the door and stared into Vivian's face. The fire of lust and unbridled passion burned in his eyes.

– Remember, my love, you will sleep only with me. Only in my arms. Always," he said quietly, leaning down to her ear. Then, pulling away, he gripped his wife's elbow firmly and pushed her towards the open door.

Vivian forced herself to smile and, praying that this night would soon turn into morning, walked into the bedroom.