The Bird has got wings
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– Oh, well, divorce me, if you don't like such a naughty wife! – Vivian sarcastically exclaimed, as if she didn't mind the iron grip of his fingers.
– That will never happen. You are mine. Only mine. And I will never, you hear me, never give you a divorce!
– Then stop it! Stop commanding me like some maid! You're supposed to respect my choices and my wishes, not suppress them!
– We'll talk at home," Jeremy suddenly said in a completely calm tone and let go of Vivian's hand.
– Fine! – She said coldly and turned her face away from the window. – Tell me, did you come here on purpose to keep me away from Charlotte? Or perhaps you are jealous of my cousin too?
– And if I am? – her husband grinned unpleasantly.
– If so, I'll tell you that this idea of yours is ridiculous: there never was and never will be anything between him and me. We're brother and sister. Besides, if it makes you feel any better, Anthony is in love with another girl and wants to marry her," Vivian said quietly.
Her whole being burned with disgust at her husband and the fact that he had deliberately taken her away from her dear friend. He had spoilt her day. But she did not ask why her husband had returned so early from hunting.
– What luck! – Jeremy replied mockingly.
Vivian remained silent.
After that brief conversation, neither spouse said a word all the way to Wington Hall.
When the carriage pulled up to the front door, Vivian left it in a hurry and went into the house and went up to her and Jeremy's bedroom with quick steps, and did not leave it, not even for dinner. The girl had lost all appetite, and only waited impatiently for her husband to come into the bedroom to discuss with her again the accusations she had thrown in his face.
"I will not raise my voice and I will be calm. We will talk like rational beings, not like animals living only on instinct. He loves me and I'm sure I can convey to him what he makes me suffer" decided Mrs. Wington.
After Jane had changed her into her nightdress and unbraided her high hair, Vivian sent the maid to rest, and sitting down at the dressing-table, began to comb her long fiery hair with a thick brush. Her body and soul were tense, and her mind tried to catch the sound of footsteps approaching the bedroom.
And soon she heard them.
– You did not wish to dine with me," was the first thing her husband said as he entered the bedroom and approached her.
– I don't feel well. You were right: it seems that this evil wind has brought me a cold after all," Vivian replied in an even tone.
– That's a pity. But let's continue our conversation, my love," Jeremy said in a quiet, ingratiating tone.
Vivian shifted her gaze from her reflection in the mirror to her husband's. Her emerald eyes opened wide. Her breathing quickened.
Jeremy stood behind her, a few feet away from her, a long, thin whip resting on his open palms.
Chapter 7
– Are you going out again? This late? – Praying in her heart that he would answer yes, Vivian asked. She wanted her voice to be calm, but she couldn't contain the fear coursing through her soul.
"Lord, almighty, good, just! Save me from his wrath! He will beat me to death!" – The thought sent icy goosebumps running down the girl's body.
– Oh, is that what you mean? – Jeremy tinkled the whip against his palm as if demonstrating his abilities.
– Why did you bring the whip with you, my love? – Vivian put the brush in the top drawer of the dressing table and wanted to get to her feet, but the stern "Sidi" thrown by her husband made her stay in her seat and continue to stare at Jeremy's reflection in the mirror.
Instead of answering, the young man came close to his spouse, placed the whip on her lap and began to gently stroke her neck with his fingers.
– I'll tell you a funny story," he said quietly after a moment of silence, and Vivian shuddered at the sound of his voice. – When I was ten years old, my father threw a dinner party and invited the few friends he had-" Jeremy grinned. – Three married couples came. Alone, without children. Their children were asleep at home because it was late: my father's whim had set dinner for ten o'clock at night. I, too, was forbidden to leave my room. Strictly forbidden. But I was eager to see the guests, so I quietly crept into the dining room and hid behind a large heavy curtain. But I didn't realise that the curtain didn't hide the toes of my house shoes, and I was soon discovered.
Jeremy stopped talking and wrinkled his nose slightly, as if the memory hurt him. But his fingers continued to stroke the neck of his wife, who sat in front of him, pale and tense as an overly taut string.
– My father was angry with me. His anger was so great that he began to berate and insult me in front of his own guests. He was drunk. He smelled of alcohol so badly that I almost fainted from the odour, which was disgusting to me at the time. I was only a curious child who had recently lost his mother. – Mr. Wington took a deep breath, his dark eyes fixed on the reflection of Vivian's face. – I remembered his face forever: red as an apple, so red I thought his head would explode.
– I'm sorry you had to suffer such a horror, and as an innocent little boy," she said quietly.
– So am I. But that's not the end of the story. – Jeremy leaned down and picked up the whip again. – My father sent me back to my room, and I lay awake, crying. And when the guests left late that night, he burst into my room, dragged me out of bed, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me to the stables. There he ripped off my night shirt, tied my hands to a stall and whipped my back. Thirteen times. I counted every stroke.