The Bird has got wings - стр. 7

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…