The Bird has got wings - стр. 44
– 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.