The Bird has got wings

– 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.