The Bird has got wings

– Put some wood in the fire, Jane," said Vivian quietly, crumpling up the letter.

– As you say, Miss Vivian," she said, but was surprised at the sudden change in her friend's mood. She did not ask any more questions, but simply lighted the fire in the fireplace.

When the flames were dancing their merry dance again, Vivian went to the fireplace and threw a crumpled ball of paper into its hot heart.

– Miss Vivian? Is something wrong? – A worried Jane asked quietly. – Has your cousin written you something hurtful?

– No, Jane… He's happy for me. But my husband mustn't find out about Richard. He will. Later. Not today. – Vivian sighed heavily and hid her face in her hands. – 'But we must go… Jeremy is expecting me for breakfast… .

– We have to get you cleaned up first! – Jane said firmly. – I promise I'll have you dressed and combed in half an hour. You know I can work miracles, don't you?

– I know, darling, I know. – Vivian took her palms away from her face and looked at her maid friend and smiled broadly.

How good it was to have Jane by her side again! Fortunately, Jeremy had not refused his wife's request to take this girl into the house and even pay her double what Lady Cranford paid her.

– How is your mother? I hope she is better? – Vivian asked as the girls walked slowly down the corridor, now brightly lit by the sunlight.

– Much better! Thank you for that! – Shining like a polished coin, Jane replied. – What about your jewellery? Have you bought them back yet?

– My goodness, Jane, how good of you to remind me of that! I had forgotten all about them! – Vivian exclaimed with the palm pressed to her heart. – I shall go for them today!

Half an hour later, as faithful Jane had promised, Vivian was dressed in one of her beautiful morning dresses, and her hair was arranged in a high style. There was no trace left of the girl who barefooted, with her hair loose, and wearing a dressing-gown over her night-dress, had been hiding from her own husband in the darkness of the library. Mrs. Wington, who had taken her place at the table in the bright, large dining-room, looked like a goddess descending from the heights of Olympus to the world of mortals. And Mr. Wington, her husband, dressed in an elegant morning suit, kept his eyes on her, while she smiled at him and kept up their uncomplicated and intimate conversation in an affectionate tone.

– We have been sent invitations again. Three to be exact," said the landlord. – But I have no desire to attend another ball. I'm tired of them.

– Very well, my dear. Let's stay at home and make the most of our time," said his wife, who had also had enough of balls and soirees.

– What post have you received, my love? – Jeremy asked, kissing his wife's white, graceful neck with a possessive look.

– A letter from Anthony. He congratulated us on our marriage and wished us well," Vivian replied briefly, carefully spreading a tiny amount of butter on half a small bun.

– Did he write when he would return to London?

– 'I can't remember, my dear. His niece is still bedridden.

– And the second letter?

"Is he checking my post?" – Vivian was unpleasantly surprised, but dared not say it aloud.

– It's from Casterbridge," she answered in an even tone. – But I haven't opened it yet.

– I want to read it," Jeremy said with a smile.

– I'm sorry, my dear, but I'm not going to let you read my private correspondence," Mrs. Wington said calmly.

– What are you afraid of? – Jeremy narrowed his eyes.

– 'I'm not afraid of anything, my dear. It's just a letter from my father. I think he's asking you for money again.

– If it's a letter from your father, why won't you show it to me? – Mr. Wington insisted again with a smile, but with a cold glint in his eyes.

– 'Because this letter is meant for me and not for you, my love. – Fortunately, Vivian was perfectly in control of herself and did not let her emotions take over. – But, my dear, do you suspect me of something?

– Not at all, my angel. Well, tell your father he won't get more than a thousand pounds this time. What's he already spent what you sent him a little while ago?

– He's trying to rebuild his print shop and needs to buy new equipment. – Vivian nonchalantly continued to butter her bun. – But, my dear, you must not send him money. Not yet. I think he realises he's asking for too much.

– When is he going to visit you and meet your husband? – Jeremy wiped his lips with his napkin and threw it on the empty plate.

– I don't know, he's so busy with his printing business," Vivian smiled back. She brought the bun to her mouth, but stopped suddenly and dropped it on the plate. – 'After breakfast I want to go to Charlotte's. We're going to entertain ourselves by singing.

– 'Not today.

"Stubborn fool. I need to buy back my jewellery!" – screamed the girl inside her, but not a muscle in her face trembled.

– 'Not today, my dear?

– We are going hunting.

Vivian looked at her husband's face with misunderstanding.

He answered her with a shining smile.

– Jeremy, you know how I feel about hunting," Vivian said quietly. There was a deep wrinkle between her eyebrows.

– I'll do the shooting, and all you have to do is enjoy the running of the horse.

– But I don't want to watch you kill innocent animals," she said grimly.

– No one is forcing you to watch it. You can always close your eyes or turn your face away," Jeremy said in a noncommittal tone.

– Please don't insist. Besides, I've already made Charlotte a promise…

– I'm sorry you're going to have to break it.

Jeremy's face was so unruffled and his gaze so intense and burning that Vivian knew she would not be able to buy back her jewellery today. Instead, she would have to fulfil the wish of her hard-hearted husband.

A wish?

No, it was an order.

– Whatever you say, my dear. I'll write her a note.

– Good girl.

Vivian smiled falsely, but her soul was filled with a grave coldness.

If Jeremy was a fine rider, and his fast as the wind, thin-legged Arabian horse obeyed him like a faithful dog, his wife was hardly an able horsewoman.