Wingless Bird - стр. 3

The green eyes, shining with courage, met the cold blue ones.

– Aunt Beatrice! I am eternally grateful to you for allowing me to be a part of your beautiful family! – In a beautiful, rather high, but not at all harsh voice, the arriving niece said and made a charming curtsy. Then, with a glance at her cousin, she sat down again in a curtsy and said: – Good day, sir!

– 'Good day indeed,' Anthony replied casually, gazing at the girl with ill-concealed admiration.

"So this bird is my dearest beggar cousin? Well, mother must be pleased: no sober-minded single man can resist the green-eyed fairy!" – Mr. Cranford thought involuntarily.

– Welcome to Greenhall, my dear niece," said Lady Cranford coolly. But any intelligent person would easily have realised that it was merely a courtesy, for pauper relatives are the most unwelcome of guests. – I hope the long journey has not tired you?

Anthony felt a slight annoyance at his mother: the tone of her voice was so indifferent and cold that it might easily have frightened and distressed his young cousin, who must be expecting a warmer welcome.

– Oh, dear auntie, don't worry! I slept the whole journey and did not awake until the gates of London. Besides, Philip, our coachman, knows how to drive a carriage without tiring me. Can Philip and the horses spend the night in your stables? He will be travelling back to Casterbridge at dawn tomorrow," Vivian said with a smile, as if she had not noticed her aunt's coldness.

– I'm sure he will. I will see that your coachman and your horses are fed and sheltered," she said.

"God almighty! This girl must have come from Paradise itself!" – thought Jane, listening intently to the conversation between her masters and their guest.

Before meeting Vivian, neither Lady Cranford, nor her son, nor Jane's maid, had even suspected that on sinful Earth one might meet a very real angel: so dazzlingly beautiful was Vivian Cowell, the daughter of the Greenhall mistress's fallen sister, a poor relation and an unwelcome guest.

The first thing that caught her eye was her red, wavy hair, so bright as if it blazed with wild flames. And despite the fact that this hair was tucked into a high modest hairstyle, a couple of locks came out from under the hairpin and fell on the snow-white, thin, surprisingly beautiful face of the girl, as if giving her interlocutors a hint of what fiery splendour awaited them when Vivian got rid of the hairstyle holding it back. Surprisingly, there were almost no freckles on her face, only a few red dots covering the delicate bridge of her nose and milky white cheeks with rather sharp cheekbones. Her plump red lips smiled the most charming smile imaginable. Small round gold clips shone softly in her beautifully shaped ears. But Vivian's most magnificent jewel were her eyes: green as emeralds, framed by long red lashes, they captivated the gaze, and the gently arched thick red eyebrows gave them mystery. Despite her dusty, outdated green cotton dress, her rather shabby white silk gloves, and her shoes, with their obvious bunched-up toes, Vivian Cowell was a delight to everyone in the mansion. Everyone except Lady Cranford.

Anthony never took his eyes off his cousin, and it worried and even frightened his mother. What if her niece turned her son's head? What if he wanted to make Vivian his wife? It must not happen! He is to be matched with one of the wealthy heiresses of London nobility!