Wingless Bird
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– You know, my dear, what a pitiful heart I have. I could not refuse my dying sister.
– Then why did this Vivian only turn up here today?
– I wrote to her father that I would not take her into my house and care until she was eighteen. I hope she's beautiful, and I'll find her a match quickly. Of course, with her background, she can't expect a rich, noble bridegroom. – Lady Cranford narrowed her eyes. – She will marry the first man who asks for her hand.
– Mother, you are a noble woman," said her son, and kissed his mother's cold white palm.
'A poor motherless relative, then! – With a mocking smile he thought. – The mother must have loved her fallen sister fiercely to put such a burden on her frail shoulders. Well, I'll be polite, but no more. I don't want to be seen with that beardless wench!"
But the sneer was gone from his lips as soon as his penniless cousin descended gracefully from the carriage and came into view of the Cranfords.
"What a horror!" – flashed through Lady Cranford's mind. She cast her niece from head to foot with an unceremonious glance, and her pretty mouth turned into a thin lifeless line.
– Almighty God! Look at that! Have you ever seen such a thing? – exclaimed one of the maids in the kitchen, as she stood on a chair and looked out of a small window high up on the wall. How convenient that from this window there was a view, though distant, of the courtyard of the house.
– What is it, Mary? What is it? – There was a rumble of voices from her friends.
– Oh, you wouldn't believe it! Oh, my God, is there such a thing? – Mary exclaimed again instead of answering. – I won't tell you! You'll see for yourself!
At the same time, the guilty party looked without fear or shyness into her aunt's face.
The green eyes, shining with courage, met the cold blue ones.
Chapter 2
– 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!
The heart of the one whom Vivian called "dear auntie" was filled with vexation and dislike for her "dear niece." How dare this person be so unheard ofly beautiful? What did she need this beauty for? What would she, Lady Cranford, do with all the suitors and admirers of this beauty with green, witch-like eyes?
"Not a bit like her mother! She must have inherited that awful red hair from her pauper father. Ah, Catherine, my foolish sister! If you had married the man our father chose to marry you, you and your children would have been close to me, but you chose to chase love and chose exile!" – This was the woman's thought, and she did not take her eyes off her beautiful niece.
But Lady Cranford was a lady for a reason: she hid her dislike and annoyance behind a false smile, and comforted herself with the thought that, no doubt, Vivian would be sold out of her hands on her first outing, as her aunt wished.