Anna Morion "The Bird has got wings"

The Bird has got wings
Anna Morion

Wealth never comes without tears, and a noble but poor lady has no choice but to sell herself to whoever wishes to buy her. Having agreed to the marriage that made her rich, Vivian did not realise what secrets her husband was keeping, nor how dearly she would have to pay for that choice. The second part of the Wingless Bird dilogy.This translation is made with DeepL Translate.

Anna Morion

The Bird has got wings

Chapter 1

– Vivian has married Jeremy?! – Anthony exclaimed in disbelief, and, taking the newspaper from his brother, quickly found in it the rather lengthy news that the newlyweds had married before the mourning for the deceased Mr. Wington was over, and that their wedding in the beautiful Anglican church of All Saints was attended only by close friends.

– Anthony, is it true? – Lady Cranford asked her son in an amazed tone. She was so surprised at the news that she even spilt a few drops of tea on her beautiful black dress.

– The truth, mother," Anthony replied with a chuckle, but did not bother to hand his mother the paper so that she could be sure of the truth of his words.

– Vivian and Jeremy Wington! – The Countess smiled contemptuously; her surprise replaced by mockery. – And yet she had achieved her purpose for which she had come to Greenhall! She had married a rich man! And what a man! Your drunken friend!

– Perhaps you've forgotten that not so long ago I was that drunken mate? – threw the paper on the table, and parried Anthony. – But somehow you still think I'm a proper gentleman, while Jeremy has long since been labelled as such a drunken fellow. And not only him, but your own niece!

– I have not branded him or her at all," said Lady Cranford coldly. – That your friend Mr. Wington is a drunkard and a libertine is known all over London, but the upper classes accept it because he is the heir to a great fortune… Oh, yes, not heir, but owner!

– And Vivian, in your opinion, is a schemer and a seductress! – Anthony could not help laughing wickedly. – Mother, you are right! She and Jeremy make a lovely couple! And I shall be happy to congratulate them on this happy event! I will not hesitate to write them a letter right away! – He got up from the table and, wishing everyone a good morning, retired to his chambers. His soul was filled with anger at his mother's poisonous speech, but also with sincere joy for Vivian, who had found what she dreamed of: a rich husband. And, even knowing the character and addiction of his friend, and now the spouse of his cousin, to alcohol and brothels, Anthony was sure that the will of his wife, this beautiful and strong-spirited girl, will change Jeremy for the better.

Vivian, whom Anthony himself had dreamed of whom he had asked to be his wife, was now the wife of another man, but young Cranford took it for granted.

– So, who was this girl Vivian? – Richard asked his mother as his younger brother left the dining room. He had been watching the quarrel between his mother and brother, which did not embarrass him, but amused him and kindled a fire of curiosity: who was his mysterious cousin that she could marry a rich gentleman without bringing him a cent in dowry?

"There must be something special about her," Richard decided. – It is not without reason that she is so disdained by my mother. And what has she done to make my mother hate her so much?"

Despite their frequent correspondence, Lady Cranford and her eldest son were not in a hurry to share with each other news of misunderstandings with other members of their family, so Richard had no information about the confrontation between Miss Cowell and his mother. And Lady Cranford did not wish the scandal at Greenhall to be known to her son: she knew that, like Anthony, Richard would reproach her for her shortsightedness and perhaps also be angry that she had nearly ruined the excellent reputation of the Cranfords. So, the Countess kept silent, and asked Anthony to keep silent too, who agreed only because he did not wish to cause his brother any more trouble.

– I wrote to you about her: she is the daughter of my late elder sister Catherine," Lady Cranford reminded her son in a calm tone. – She came to Greenhall with only a suitcase and great ambition to marry well.

– And she had succeeded," Richard remarked. – The wealth of her husband's family is still gossiped about. They say the late Wington not only had huge bank accounts and chests of gold, but also large estates, both in England and abroad.

– I have heard of that family too," Agnes Cranford put in. – My father knew the late man, and told me that he was stingy and intractable…

– All right, you'll have ride your pony, but only when I am with you! – His father told him sternly and took the spoon away from him. – If you're sure you're done with breakfast, you can go to the nursery!

– Do you promise me, Daddy? Promise? – Albert's eyes lit up and he clapped his hands together. – When? How about now?

– Buddy, can't you see that Daddy is still eating breakfast? – his mother gently reprimanded the boy. – Go and play in the nursery.

– No, I'm going to Kitty's! I promised to tell her a story! – Albert said and jumped up from the table and looked at his father sternly: "Papa, when you have breakfast, come to Kitty's for me! Do you promise?

– I promise. Go on, run to your sister," Richard smiled at his son, and he ran out of the dining-room with a loud shriek of joy.

– Mum, can I leave the table too? – Victoria, always obedient and quiet, asked in a pleading tone. – I'm going to Kitty's too.

– Let's go together, my dear," replied Agnes, who was not particularly interested in her husband's conversation with his mother. – And let's get some jam buns for our little one!

As Agnes and Victoria left the dining room, carrying with them delicious freshly baked scones, a jar of raspberry jam and a tall glass of milk, Richard and his mother had plenty of time to discuss Vivian's unwise choice. Gloating, they both agreed that despite Mr. Wington's terrible reputation, he was still incredibly rich, perhaps even richer than the Count of Cranford himself, and it was impossible not to reckon with that.

– But, mother, why do you dislike Miss Cowell so much? – Richard asked with a smile.

– What makes you think so? – Lady Cranford shrugged her shoulders and took a sip of her tea.

– It is obvious: you are so delighted that she has become the wife of a man of bad character that dislike and contempt for her slip into every word you say," Richard smirked.

– You exaggerate, my dear: I have no ill feelings for her… More tea! – The Countess said imperiously, and the maid, dressed in a clean, neat uniform, immediately filled her beautifully patterned porcelain mug with fragrant black tea.

– Would you like some milk, ma'am? – The maid asked.

– No, not this time," Lady Cranford replied, and the maid silently took her place close to the master's table. – No, Richard, I never wished Vivian any harm, but I confess that her character and her means of achieving her ends are not to my liking. I suppose Anthony didn't tell you that he was in love with her and that he had proposed to her?

– What news! No, mother, this is the first I have heard of it! – Richard sprang to life and laughed merrily. – Oh, Anthony! Hiding such a thing from his elder brother! So, he is in love with her, and she must be in love with him! But then why did Miss Cowell marry another man? Admit it, Mother: are these your deeds?

– My deeds? My boy, what do you take me for? – Lady Cranford wrinkled her nose. – Vivian is beautiful, even too beautiful… Though her red hair and green eyes make her look like a medieval witch…

– Green eyes and red hair! Interesting! – hummed her interlocutor. – But I can't remember any witches or sorcerers in our family.

– It was her father who spoilt our noble breed," the Countess said, her lips curling into a contemptuous grin. – My sister was never very clever and ran away with the first man who whispered pretty phrases and promises to her. And that plunged her into poverty. As she was dying, Catherine asked me to take in her daughter and help her with her debut, which I did. I have such a kind, soft heart…" She sighed heavily. – And do you know how my poor niece has repaid me for welcoming her into my home with open arms? Anthony denies it, but I am sure she flirted with him and made him give her his heart.

– She did! She wished to marry him? – Richard wondered: the conversation about his mysterious cousin was becoming more and more entertaining.

– And he fell into her trap and proposed to her," the Countess told her son in an affirmative tone. – Anthony was ready to sacrifice his rich future that another rich girl could give him… But Vivian trampled him. She was only playing with our poor boy. And now I realise who made her give up her original purpose! Anthony's friend! That girl decided that this drunkard could give her so much more, that she was no longer interested in our Anthony. And he suffers so much because of this unworthy woman… My heart weeps at the thought that my good-heartedness is to be blamed.

– And what happened after she had refused Anthony? – He was angry at the shameless woman who had dared to play with his younger brother's feelings, and now he understood his mother's dislike of her own niece. That girl had brought his family so much grief!

– Fortunately, she has gone to live with a friend of hers," Lady Cranford said in an even tone, and took another sip of her tea, deliberately omitting to mention that the reason for Vivian's move was none other than she herself, the mistress of Greenhall. – When you meet her… If you meet her… You may think her a sweet and kind girl, but always remember what she did to your brother. I will never forgive her for that. And neither should you, Richard. Remember that.

– I don't think that unpleasant person can make me feel anything other than contempt for her," Richard said with a cruel smile.

– Vivian is a beautiful girl. Very pretty," she said quietly, looking intently into her son's eyes. – And if she wishes to charm a man, he cannot resist her charms.

– I am a married man and the father of three children," Richard said in an indifferent tone, rising from the table. – Her charms will not work on me. But if you will excuse me, I intend to go to Kitty's and then fulfil my promise to my son. Albert is crazy about his pony. Sometimes I wish I'd never bought him. – He headed for the exit.

'Anthony used to say the same thing,' Lady Cranford thought with some mockery of her son's self-assured look. – 'But Richard's right: he's a mature man and can read people's souls… And after all, Vivian is married now. It's wonderful. It couldn't be better… But this Wington is young and handsome, and Vivian is now many times richer than I am… Damn her!" – suddenly flashed through her mind, and her soul was filled with discontent: Vivian did not deserve such a high position. But the girl's aunt was sure, that naive and foolish Jeremy could not resist her devilish beauty.

After drinking her tea, Lady Cranford made her way to her sick granddaughter.

– Mr. Cranford! There's mail for you! – Anthony's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a muffled female voice outside the door of his chambers.

– Come in! – Anthony said loudly, and having finished the last lines of the letter, leaned back in his chair and reread it.

– Your mail, sir! – The maid put the two letters on the table and hurried away.

Anthony glimpsed the letters brought to him and decided to read them later in the evening, for at that moment his thoughts were occupied with the unexpected news of Vivian's marriage to his best friend.

"They must have kept their affair hidden for a long time. I remember what that cunning man said, that my cousin, though good, was too poor for him. He was lying, that cunning man! – Anthony blew thoughtfully on the ink, and realising that he was in no condition to reread his letter to his cousin, he put the paper on the table, rose to his feet, and went to the window. – But then why had Vivian insisted all this time that she wished to be the Duke of Nightingale's consort? She was so assertive! Anthony, you fool, isn't it obvious? She was deceiving you into believing her! I think it was all old man Wington's fault, and the couple were afraid that if he found out about their affair, he would disinherit Jeremy… My friend couldn't do that, so he waited until his father died… Clever! And yet… Vivian was deceiving me. – He grinned bitterly. – And I believed her with all my heart. But did Charlotte know about her friend and Jeremy's affair? They're so close. No. I don't think so. Charlotte's too naive to keep such secrets," he pondered, looking out over the beautiful green Devry Park. – I need to get Vivian or Jeremy to tell me the truth. But not in a letter. In person. When I get back to London – the first thing I'll do will be to visit the newlyweds."

Having made up his mind, young Cranford returned to his desk, looked longingly at the fresh mail, and, without reading the address of the senders, hid the letters in his desk drawer.

"And what kind of a fool decides to tie his letter with yarn? – He thought grudgingly as he headed for Kitty's room to visit her and play one of the children's board games with her. – It must be Jeremy who decided to play a joke on me, as if his sudden marriage to my cousin wasn't enough!"

After spending time with Kitty until noon, Anthony insisted that she try to get at least a little sleep and, at Victoria's request, went with her to the children's studio to draw pictures. Victoria, the middle daughter of the Count of Cranford, a girl of ten, looked like her father: she was dark-haired and blue-eyed. She was of a calm, mild temperament, and she hardly ever gave her parents any trouble or hurt either by her actions or her speech. This girl knew that all the inheritance would go to her elder brother, for her mother reminded her of this every day, so Victoria worked hard to become a real lady. Cranford forced her daughter to spend hours playing the piano and harp, as well as learn Spanish, German and French languages, which were fluent in the parents themselves. In the future Victoria had to make a worthy match – so said her mother, and her father added that her future spouse will have to have a title not lower than viscount. Victoria tried with all her childish strength to meet the expectations of her beloved parents, but when Uncle Anthony and Grandmother Beatrice came to visit, the girl could distract herself from her daily activities and become a child again. In turn, the uncle and grandmother did everything so that this little lady could enjoy her childhood and fill her heart with warm memories.

– Uncle Anthony, when are you going to get married? – Victoria asked thoughtfully, diligently tracing a pencil on the expensive snow-white paper.

– What an interesting question, my little lady," Anthony smiled at her. He, too, was drawing, but, absorbed in thoughts of Vivian and Jeremy, was not watching his sharply sharpened pencil. – Are you curious to know? Alas, I have no answer to that question myself. But I hope I shall soon be taking a kind and nightingale-voiced girl to the wedding.

– The girl you drew? – The girl asked, and stretched out her neck to get a better view of her uncle's drawing.

Surprised by her niece's question, Anthony looked closely at his drawing and saw that the girl was right: a female figure was clearly drawn on the white paper. And it was not the figure of the fragile Vivian, whom Anthony was sure he was madly in love with. The girl in the drawing looked like Miss Charlotte Salton: high voluminous breasts, strong arms, a beautiful, somewhat puffy face, and broad dark eyebrows. On the girl's outstretched arm sat a small, graceful nightingale.

And then Anthony realised: he loved. But not Vivian, no. Not so long ago he had been ready to sacrifice his future for her, but suddenly he realised that now his heart belonged to Charlotte. The same "good fat girl", the same rich bride. The very girl whose singing made his heart sink sweetly, and whose soul was filled with sincere admiration and adoration for her talent.

"And this siren, this Danish elf, was in love with me! But I ruined everything, and now I am ready to do anything to win her heart again, so that when I asked for her hand, she would answer me with consent… And the reason for this is not her rich dowry. I don't want it. I want Charlotte and her warm, soft hands resting bashfully in mine," went through the young man's mind. The pencil froze in his hands. – But how do I win her heart? She is in love with the Duke of Nightingale! And, if she recognised my position and desire for a rich bride, Charlotte might decide that all I need is her dowry…"

– Uncle Anthony? Why are you silent? – Anthony's thoughts were interrupted by Victoria's somewhat offended voice.

– I'm sorry, my dear, I think I was thinking too deeply. – He ruffled the girl's hair. – 'Would you like me to tell you a secret?

– What secret, uncle? – The girl giggled softly.

– You're right, Victoria: the girl I drew has stolen my heart, and I hope to steal hers. But remember: it's a big secret, and I know you can keep secrets better than anyone else.

– So you're getting married soon? – Victoria jumped up and down in anticipation of her uncle's marriage to the mysterious girl from his drawing.

– I'll do my best to make sure it happens," Anthony smiled. – And I promise you'll be the only one allowed to sit in the front pew of the church, next to your grandmother Beatrice.

– Yes, yes!" Victoria laughed merrily. – And I promise to wear my prettiest dress to your wedding!

– But, my dear, remember that you will not be allowed to outshine my bride with your beauty! – Anthony winked at his niece, and the girl's gleeful laughter once again filled the spacious workshop.

Later, as he left the workshop, Anthony was eager to return to his chambers, sit at his desk and write a letter. A letter to Charlotte. But as he picked up the quill and dipped it into the ink, his mind failed to tell him the words with which it would be appropriate to begin the letter, so only a black blot fell on the clean white paper. Frowning, Anthony crumpled up the ruined paper, threw it on the floor, picked up a clean one, and stepped back to the window, thinking deeply.

It was not difficult for him to confess his love for Vivian: the words just jumped out of his throat. Anthony remembered that at that important and emotional moment his mind had betrayed him. But now, as he wished he could write to Charlotte to confess his feelings to her and beg her not to mock them, the young man's mind seemed to deny him that favour.

"What if I frighten her away? No, no, I must not disturb her peace so suddenly… Vivian. She will help me. She knows her friend, and, besides, she and I have a pact… which, however, she herself has broken. Now Vivian is rich, she doesn't have to honour her word. Still, I'm sure she won't be cruel to me and will help me win Charlotte. I must go to her… but Kitty… My poor little Kitty! My leaving so soon would break her heart… But I must ask her if she can let me go: my mother will stay here. But not today. In a couple of days. No, a week. It would be cruel of me to leave so soon," decided Mr. Cranford, and returning to his desk, he put the paper away, took the letters he had received today out of the drawer, and opened the letter from Vivian, sealed with the Salton family crest. He quickly read the two pages, which were covered with his cousin's beautiful, somewhat sharp handwriting, but he found no hint of her decision to marry Jeremy Wington, which again led him to think that Vivian was hiding her affair with his friend from him. And once again a shadow of displeasure and disappointment slipped across Anthony's face.

Putting the letter aside, Anthony picked up the second, tied with a thick thread, and cut the thread with a letter opener. But as his fingers unfolded the letter and the unfamiliar handwriting caught his eye, there was a loud knock.

– Anthony, are you busy? – came Lady Cranford's voice from behind the door.

– No, mother, come in," Anthony answered reluctantly, and laid the letter on the table.

His mother entered the room unheard. She walked with a smile to the table and stood beside it, for her son had been slow to offer her a chair far enough away for Lady Cranford to move it herself. The rudeness hurt her, but the woman decided not to give away her true feelings and hid the offence behind a calm smile.

– I have just had a conversation with Agnes," the Countess began, looking intently into her son's face. – She said that her younger sister Alexandra had recently made her debut. I hope you remember that girl? As beautiful as her sister. And she's young: she's seventeen years old… .

– Have you come to ask her to marry me? – Anthony interrupted his mother in a bored tone and, rising from the table, went to the window and stood with his back to her to let her know that he was not in the least interested in the conversation about Alexandra.

– Her father is giving her an eighteen thousand dowry…" Taking advantage of the fact that her son was not looking in her direction, Lady Cranford glanced furtively at the letter Anthony had printed but never read and ran her eyes over it. The brevity of what was written told her that it was only a note. – This girl would be beautiful…" When she had read the note in full, she suddenly faltered, turned pale, and looked at her son with incomprehension. But he did not hurry to turn round to her. The woman grabbed the note from the table with trembling hands. – Ah, here's where my correspondence with Mr. Brown has gone! – she exclaimed in a false cheerful tone, clutching the paper to her chest. – It seems to have come to you by mistake, my dear, but I take it back.

– As you wish," Anthony said in an indifferent tone.

– Well… Please think of Alexandra… But I have urgent business to attend to… Good day to you, my dear. – Lady Cranford turned round and hurried out of her son's room, taking with her and wishing to conceal from him the contents of the note which she had crumpled convulsively in her hands.

On entering her chambers, the Countess straightened the paper, carefully re-read the message, crumpled it up again, and threw it into the burning fireplace. The woman's face was dead-white, and one could easily read the very true disgust in it.