The Bird has got wings - стр. 30

Charlotte glanced at her friend and silently handed her the card.

But Vivian did not need to read the name written on that neat gold-patterned rectangle. She knew him.

– He's here… He's come for me," the girl smiled bitterly, and her fingers clutched convulsively at Charlotte's delicate palm.

– Jeremy! I didn't expect to see you here! – Anthony exclaimed in surprise when he saw his best friend enter the lobby of Lillehus.

Mr. Wington gave the servant his hat and cloak, and the friends hugged each other tightly.

– You have come straight from the hunt! – young Cranford said cheerfully, only now noticing that Jeremy was dressed in a dark hunting suit, stained in places with brown mud. His boots were covered with dried forest soil.

– You wrote that you were back, so I thought I'd take my time and meet you," Jeremy said cheerfully. – But where are our beauties?

– Miss Salton is choosing a hat for her walk, and your husband is helping her. We're going for a walk in the garden, you see.

– Oh, splendid. Then my unexpected arrival is not so out of place… Are you the butler? – Jeremy turned to Mr. Anderson, who had come out of the next room. – Would you give your lady my card?

– If you say so, sir. – Mr. Anderson took the card from his new guest and headed for the stairs.

– 'Ah, yes, my sincere condolences: I learnt of your father's death in this morning's paper, a fortnight late,' Anthony hastened to say to his friend.

– Thank you, my friend. But I must confess that I feel no loss at all. He didn't exist for me, and I didn't exist for him," Jeremy said in an indifferent tone, smoothing his beautiful, slightly dishevelled hair. – My old man left this world at a very convenient moment for me, and I'm grateful for that.

– What cynicism," Anthony grumbled. – I know he wasn't a good father, but you have no right to speak of him that way.

– Even if you know that he got me addicted to alcohol when I was thirteen? – Jeremy grinned: his friend's words had hurt his pride, and he felt a little irritated with him.

– Thirteen? – Anthony asked incredulously.

– Thirteen. It was Christmas, and he made me drink a bottle of whisky with him at the party table. I'd never had a drink before. But my old man thought I was too reserved and he wanted to see me smile, he told me that night. – Jeremy lifted his chin and squinted at his friend. – I don't think they made you drink whiskey when you were thirteen.

– No, I wasn't. The first time I touched alcohol was when I was fifteen, and it was a small shot of sweet liquor," Anthony agreed, and suddenly realised what a bright, full of comfort and care he had had during the years when Jeremy had been a mere shadow to his father, a shadow he had tried to ignore.

– From that evening I drank every day. It was a glass of wine at lunch, a little brandy before bed… And whisky. Yes, my father's favourite whisky. He got me addicted to it," Jeremy said thoughtfully. – And when I became addicted, he said I was a disgrace to his name. Damn…" He stopped himself just in time to avoid swearing in front of his friend. – So I'm glad he's dead. Call me whatever you want. It's your right.

– I'm sorry… I'm sorry your father was so selfish," Anthony said quietly, but then smiled broadly. – But enough about him. Tell me, my friend, how did you decide to marry my cousin? I remember you said that even her beauty did not outshine her poverty!