Wingless Bird - стр. 15
When she reached her chambers, Vivian slammed the door quite loudly, and then threw her white gloves on the red carpet and exclaimed quietly:
– That woman! That wicked prim old woman! I hate her! How long will I have to endure her orders? I wish I could get married soon!
The girl went to the large window and looked out on the stone courtyard where the windows of her chambers actually faced.
"I must write to them. They need to know that I will do everything in my power to make our plan a reality. I won't let them down! – She thought, frowning her eyebrows and playing with her chain with her fingers. – So I must not let on that every word and deed of my heartless aunt hits me like a slap in the face. That woman is the Devil himself in a dress! I'll bear it all, and Lord knows I won't give her the pleasure of seeing me cry!"
Suddenly Miss Cowell's sharp green eyes caught sight of Anthony Cranford in the courtyard: he was striding towards a waiting, new-looking open carriage with a pair of snow-white horses. As if sensing someone's eyes on him, the young aristocrat stopped, turned round and looked up at the window at which his cousin was standing. Not expecting this act of his, Vivian did not immediately find what to do, but smiled and lightly waved at him. Anthony smiled in return, and touched his tall black hat with his fingers, and then deftly jumped into the carriage, which immediately drove him to the great iron gates leading from Greenhall to the centre of the town.
"My cousin is so gallant… And just how did my cruel aunt have such a marvellous son?" – Vivian thought as she looked at the carriage.
There was a knock at the door.
The girl took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure, and once again hid her true feelings behind a dazzling smile.
– Come in! – she said.
Jane entered the chambers.
– I apologise, Miss Vivian, for disturbing you. I only wanted to know if you needed anything.
– How good of you to be here! – Vivian said sincerely: in this big, dead house Jane's maid was almost the only flame of warmth that warmed her soul. – I wouldn't mind a hot bath. Oh, and bring me a couple of blank sheets of paper, ink and a quill: I must write home.
– As you say, Miss Vivian! – Jane brightened up and ran out of the door.
In the time it took Jane and Emily, whom she had summoned to help her, to carry buckets of hot water into the spacious bathroom in Vivian's chamber behind a beautiful portable screen, the guest had written a lengthy letter, which Jane handed to Philip, the coachman. Soon Vivian was lying in hot water mixed with rose oil, and trying not to think of the heavy tete-a-tete with Aunt Beatrice that awaited her in the evening.
But the tea party in the gazebo by the lake was much friendlier than both ladies had expected, and within an hour they had arranged all the details of the future debut of the "dear" niece, as well as a sumptuous reception in her honour at Greenhall. It was decided that Vivian's first appearance should be a real furore, and this furore was scheduled for Friday: that was the day of the ball at the Duchess of Marlborough's – the most popular woman in London and the kingdom after the wife of His Royal Majesty the Prince Regent.