– I hope she'll give our daughters a few tips on how to catch a rich husband in her arms… She's been doing just fine!
– But Mr. Wington married her so hastily, and his father is still in mourning," said one of the gossips. – There's a rumour that she seduced him.
– And I heard that he seduced her… But look at the two of them: they have eyes for each other! I think they're in hot love! – objected the gossipy friend.
– Oh, my dear, love comes and goes… Let's see if he regrets this marriage! He could have married anyone, even an earl's daughter, but for some reason he chose Miss Cowell… No, no, something made them marry, and I am more than sure that the maiden made him compromise himself, and he, as a man of honour, hastened to correct his fatal mistake. Ah, that cunning fox! Shining like gold in the sun!
And the two friends went towards their daughters, who in their turn were gossiping about the same thing as their mothers.
How true were the words of one of these gossipers! Vivian, who was envied, called a "witch" and regarded as a "tenacious maiden," was becoming more popular by the minute, even though most of the guests had not changed their opinion of her. But so beautiful, graceful, and above all, rich, young Miss Wington could not help but become a new star, so suddenly shone in the sky of London. All those who had been strangers to Miss Cowell were now drawn to the brilliant, high-society beauty of Mrs. Wington, and desired her friendship or even a pinch of her attention. If the girls and their mothers hoped to receive Vivian's tutelage, the single and even married men could henceforth admire this fiery swan and sigh furtively when she passed by or bestowed upon them her incomparable smile. After all, it was much easier to admire a young, rich, married beauty than a poor, looking for a spouse as a homeless woman.
When at last the hosts of the ball were able to move away from the doors, for all who had answered the invitations had already appeared, Vivian made her way to Charlotte.
Miss Salton, dressed in one of her new dresses, which favourably emphasised her high firm breasts and transformed her full figure into a rather graceful one, was not propped up against a wall this evening, nor did she stand alone at the window, nor was her gaze full of sadness. On the contrary: the girl was invited to every dance, and her eyes sparkled with merriment, for the other guests, seeing her in a new outfit, with a new hairdo and new shoes, realised that Miss Salton, it turned out, was quite nice, and some even said, beautiful. Danish fashion was not to Charlotte's liking, but London fashion, and the advice of her dear friend Vivian, made the girl an attractive bride, though she kept silent about the thirty thousands of dowry. Several young gentlemen hovered round her and joked desperately, eager to hear her ringing laughter. They told her funny stories, shared the latest gossip, and looked at the girl with interest. What attracted them to her? Her father's wealth? Her wide, genuine smile? Her proud posture and majestic figure? Charlotte asked herself these questions, but did not try to find out the truth, for she was in no hurry to marry, and consequently all these gentlemen were no success to her, though she laughed at their jokes and danced with them. Charlotte had made up her mind to live as she pleased and was no longer tormented by the fact that her person was not interesting to others, so such attention from rather handsome and stately men did not make her blush and flirt desperately with them. She just danced, laughed and was happy.
– I beg your pardon, gentlemen, let me steal Miss Salton for a little while," said Vivian with a smile to her friend's suitors, and, in spite of their feeble protests, led Charlotte away to a remote corner where the girls could have a more intimate conversation. – My dear, I can see you have no rest from the attentions of these gentlemen! – giggled Vivian.
– Oh, I'm sick of them," Charlotte said, and then added, "I'm so glad for you! – I'm so happy for you! Of course, I've said it for the thousandth time, but I never seem to tire of it! Viviane, perhaps you don't notice that everyone around you is talking only about you… .
– I know what they say! – laughed Viviane. – 'Viscountess Russell has called me "a thorn that's wrapped round a tulip," but of course that was said behind my back. But you know me, my dear: I don't care at all for the opinions of strangers!
– That old woman is like a bag of bones… But you are not the only one who has been honoured by her attention: poor Mr. Hilloby has caused her a storm of remarks about his toilet water… "He's wearing worse perfume than a woman!" she grumbled. Such an unpleasant person! – Charlotte wrinkled her nose. – The Duke of Nightingale never arrived?
– Not only did he not come, but he did not deign to answer the invitation. They say he has been very seldom seen in society since his engagement to Miss Beckley," she shrugged her shoulders. – Fortunately, I did not have to grieve long. My Jeremy loves me terribly. So much so that sometimes I am even afraid of his love," she added quietly, and Charlotte saw a shadow creep across Vivian's face.
– If you have something on your mind, please share it with me," Charlotte said affectionately. – I'll always be there for you. And it is easier on the soul when another soul takes some of the burden.
Vivian hesitated: should she share the details of her marriage with her friend? Marriage was a matter between two people, and what went on behind closed doors should remain between spouses, as society said. But she desperately wanted Charlotte to embrace her, to dry her tears and tell her that eventually this suffering, mental and physical, would end. But Vivian could not confess to her friend that by marrying a man she had seen only twice in her life, she had willingly surrendered herself to his fierce, burning love for her.
When Jeremy proposed to her… Jeremy Wington! The one who had just lost his father and inherited his fortune (The Times wrote about it)! The rich as Croesus handsome young man, who threw his love and his money at her feet, first astonished Vivian with his proposal, and then, after listening to her doubts that she, a waif, was not worthy to be his spouse, firmly assured her that all he needed was herself, and he would never reproach her for not bringing him a pound sterling. "You, dear Miss Cowell, are the greatest treasure, the greatest jewel to me. And if you become my wife, I promise you will never hear a word from me that I once took you as a penniless girl. I love you. Desperately and sincerely," said Jeremy at that moment, and his voice was so firm and his look so resolute that Vivian realised what an unexpected, wonderful surprise Fate had given her. And the girl said: "yes," and a week and a half later Jeremy put a beautiful ring with a large emerald on her finger and ushered her into his London home as his lawful wedded wife, life partner, and mistress of all that he owned. "I've got my luck by the tail!" – thought Vivian, looking round the huge, beautiful mansion, standing almost in the heart of London. The heavy ring on her ring finger and the emerald, as green as Mrs. Wington's eyes, reminded her that this was no dream, that Lady Cranford's poor relative was now the wife of a rich, handsome young gentleman. But her first wedding night, when Jeremy threw her innocent wife into the maelstrom of his passion, made her cry with fear of him and his burning love to her…
– Vivian? Darling, are you all right? – Vivian heard Charlotte's concerned voice as if through a fog.
Blinking, Vivian returned her thoughts from the master bedroom to the ballroom and, looking around, replied with a smile:
– I'm perfectly fine! It's just… I was just trying to remember about whether we had sent an invitation to the de Croix family," she found herself.
