Wingless Bird
Анна Морион
When the Countess of Cranford, the rich and noble mistress of magnificent Greenhall, took in her young niece, she had no idea what her good-heartedness would bring. It seems that the flame-haired beauty Vivian wishes to marry Anthony Cranford, her cousin, which is against the plans of her aunt, who wants to find her son a rich bride. After all, Vivian, though she is as beautiful as an angel on earth, does not have a cent of dowry. However, behind the appearance of an angel hides confidence and ambition, and if Vivian Cowell decides to get what she wants – she is ready to confront the whole world.This translation is made with DeepL Translate.
Анна Морион
Wingless Bird
Chapter 1
– Hurry, Jane! She's here! – Emily called out, and a moment later the girl herself appeared in the kitchen doorway. Her pretty thin face was radiant, and in her grey eyes sparkled the anticipation of merriment.
– How? Already? But the room isn't ready! The carpet's not cleaned! There are no flowers in the vase! – Jane exclaimed: it was to her that Lady Cranford, the mistress of the house, had entrusted the task of preparing the room for the arrival of an unexpected but extremely curious personage.
"Jane," said Lady Cranford at breakfast, "prepare the guest quarters in the North Wing. The first room on the right down the corridor. My niece is arriving today, and everything must be in perfect order. Change the sheets to silk and pick a pretty bouquet in the garden, but don't touch my gladioli." Will she be staying long, ma'am? Should I clean the carpet?" – Jane asked timidly, eager to learn as much as she could about her guest and to spread this surprise to the entire household. After all, no one in the house had even suspected that the lady had a niece! The lady had never mentioned her! "Yes, the carpet should have been beaten out and cleaned," Lady Cranford replied in an indifferent tone. – She will come this afternoon."
"And the room to be cleaned, and the carpet to be knocked out and cleaned! And all as soon as possible!" – ran through poor Jane's mind. But she only curtsied and said: "As you command, ma'am."
And lo and behold, the person who had made Jane so nervous was here! In Greenhall! And the carpet had not been cleaned! The beautiful silver vase is empty! What on earth possessed her to ask about the carpet? Oh, what would Lady Cranford say to that?
"But the guest was not due until the evening! It's not my fault she turned up after lunch!" – poor Jane soothed herself, and, tucking the dishevelled black strands of her hair back under her white working bonnet, she hurriedly left her plate of hot soup and almost ran from the kitchen, which was in the far wing of the house, into the huge entrance hall, sacrificing her lunch. What to say! Sometimes curiosity drowns out the songs of a hungry belly!
The girl joined her friends gathered at one of the far windows, and stretching her neck, cast a glance at the wide stone courtyard, through which a rather old black carriage, drawn by a pair of tired grey horses, was rolling gently along.
– A lady's niece, and she came on such a wreck! – Emily hummed quietly to herself.
– And the horses look so old! – giggled one of the kitchen staff.
– Do you think it's pretty? – Jane asked.
– Who knows! We'll see! – Emily answered her cheerfully, and the friends whispered loudly, practising their witticisms.
– What is this gathering? – Mr. . Brown, the butler, was suddenly shouted at, as he had no patience for gossip, and held the servants in fear by the mere sight of his tall, thin, grey-haired person.
The maids immediately left their places at the window and hurried into the kitchen, not wishing to displease either Mr. Brown or Lady Cranford.
– Wait a minute, Jane! – A commanding female voice made the unhappy girl flinch.
Jane obediently stopped, turned round, and sat down in a kneeling posture: none other than the lady of the house was coming down the beautiful broad staircase.
She was an old but still beautiful woman of fifty-two, dressed in a severe black silk dress (she was still in mourning for her husband, who had passed away ten years before). Her beautiful dark hair, touched with grey, was styled in the high style she usually wore on weekdays. Her still slender figure was that of a lady, a member of one of the most noble families in England. Lady Cranford's cold blue eyes always made Jane and all the servants of the estate shiver with fear, and in her calm, emotionless face it was impossible to read what was on her mind: was she angry? Was she displeased about something? Was she about to reprimand or just give orders on this or that?
– Are the bedchambers ready? – Lady Cranford addressed Jane again.
– Alas, ma'am, my guest appeared so suddenly, and I had no time to-" she began to make a timid excuse.
The hostess stopped her with an impatient wave of her white hand and said:
– Well, then, just change the bedclothes and bring the flowers. The carpet will wait for another day. And now come with me: I will introduce you to my niece. I understand you're the same age. You will be her servant.
"So this guest is nineteen, like me!" – thought Jane: she was more than pleased that her hostess had relieved her of the duty of cleaning the heavy thick carpet of the guest-room. Serving the young miss? Well, it's not as tedious as scrubbing the floors and dusting every thing in a huge three-storey mansion every day!
– I've already made new bedding, ma'am. The flowers will be in the vase in a minute, if you will allow me to go into the garden," said the maid, not daring to look her mistress in the face.
– Later. That'll hold. Follow me. – Lady Cranford passed Jane indifferently, and she hurried after her into the courtyard.
The carriage pulled slowly up to the front door.
– I didn't know we were expecting guests. – The phrase belonged to Mr. Anthony Cranford, Lady Cranford's youngest son. This handsome, stately man of twenty-five was admired by all the young maids, including Jane, so when she saw him dressed in an expensive hunting suit, with a gun on his shoulder, she blushed and hurriedly turned her gaze to the carriage.
But Anthony Cranford did not notice Jane's maid, even though she was pretty. The only Greenhall girl who attracted his attention was Emily, and she, beautiful and sharp-tongued, wasted no opportunity to flirt with the master's son, naturally avoiding his mother's inquisitive gaze.
– Yes, we expect so," Lady Cranford answered her son in an indifferent tone. – 'This is my foolish sister's daughter.
– The one your father disinherited? – Mr. Cranford said, approaching his mother in an airy manner.
– Yes, Catherine's daughter," his mother confirmed. – My younger sister married against our father's wishes to a penniless petty nobleman and broke our mother's heart. Fool!
– And what of her daughter?
– She will live with us. Catherine died many years ago, and before she died, she wrote to me begging me to help her daughter, Vivian.
– That's a pretty name," Anthony grinned at that. – So your penniless relative will live under your roof? Even after what her mother has done?
– 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.
As for plain Jane, she was ready to follow Vivian to the ends of the earth, into fire or water, as soon as she saw the lady she had been fortunate enough to serve. From the moment the guest came into her sight, this angelic-looking girl became her idol. What was the cause of this adoration? Vivian's beauty? Her melodious voice? Her enchanting smile? Oh, no! The reason was simple: Jane's keen eye, which had seen the upper classes of London and England every day, recognised from the first glance at her guest that she was poor. Vivian's dress was simple, elegant, but poor, too poor by London standards. Jane's heart filled with sisterly love for this beautiful but alas, poor relative of the rich and noble Dowager Countess Lady Cranford, a woman like an ice statue.
– You must be hungry, my dear," said Lady Cranford to her niece. – 'Fortunately, there will be lunch soon, but surely you can have sandwiches and tea now. c
– Thank you, dear auntie, you are so kind! But I would prefer to share a meal with you. Don't worry about me. Could you order my luggage to be taken to my room? – Vivian answered her in a calm tone. She was not frightened by her aunt's coldness, nor deceived by the deliberate nobility of this beautiful lady, nor disturbed by the thought of what her rich relatives thought of her and her poor attire. She only continued to smile, for she knew that there was no weapon stronger than a beautiful smile.
She could see the admiration in the blue eyes of the handsome young man standing beside her aunt: he was tall, trim, dark-haired. There was no mistaking it: he was Lady Cranford's son. But which one? Thanks to her father's stories, Vivian was aware that she had two cousins in London. One was the heir to the vast Cranford fortune, the one who had inherited the title of Earl; the other was the younger son, who had also received his share of the inheritance, but had neither the title nor even a quarter of what his brother had inherited. Vivian knew the bitter truth: her mother, married for love, had lost everything. All her relatives seemed to have forgotten about her existence, and enraged by the disobedience of his eldest daughter, Vivian's grandfather had rewritten his will, in which he, though he had no title, but was one of the richest men in the kingdom, left everything he had to his youngest daughter, Beatrice, who submitted to his will and became the wife of the man he had chosen for her. And as the Earl himself was immensely rich, his marriage to Beatrice only doubled his fortune, and at his death this fortune passed to his eldest son. Lady Cranford, on the other hand, was content with a widow's share, which did not in the least induce her to change the luxurious life to which she had been accustomed.
– You must be my cousin? – Vivian addressed Anthony politely. – Your features are unmistakably those of my dear aunt.
– Exactly, my dear cousin," he smiled, and, taking her gloved hand, kissed it gently, causing Vivian's neck and cheeks to blush against her will.
"What impudence! Only just arrived, and already she's flirting like a skilful minx… And with whom? With my son! And Anthony himself? He keeps his eyes on her! – Lady Cranford thought angrily as she watched the young people smiling at each other. – This must stop!"
– "Vivian, let me introduce you to my youngest son Anthony," she said to her niece in a still but simply icy tone, this time not bothering to hide her true feelings behind an insincere 'darling'.
"Junior! What a pity… But the eldest must be coming to see his mother, even if he doesn't live with her," ran through Vivian's mind, and her sympathy for her young cousin immediately diminished.
– My eldest son Richard lives in a separate house. He and his wife have recently purchased an estate in the north, but they visit us quite often. Richard knows that I miss my grandchildren terribly," Lady Cranford said, as if she had read her mind, and deliberately mentioned that her eldest son was married, had children, and lived far from London.
– Oh, I shall be delighted to meet him and my little nieces and nephews! – Vivian exclaimed, folding her arms on her breast in a touching gesture, but the news that her cousin the Earl was married upset her feelings.
– My brother has been hunted to the very heart of the matter. But now he is married to a charming young woman, and is the father of a mischievous boy and two rosy-cheeked daughters," Anthony explained, admiring her beautiful face. He could have stood like that all day long, forgetting about food and water and just looking at his angelic green-eyed cousin. But when he caught himself at this thought, the young man was horrified and hastened to dismiss the obsession that had seized him: well aware of his position as the youngest son, he knew that the only way he could gain wealth was to marry one of the heiresses of a good fortune, or a girl with a rich dowry. In return, he could offer himself, his respect and his care. And after all, he was not some petty nobleman, but the son of an earl, which gave him an advantage over many potential suitors.
– They must be real angels," Vivian smiled at her cousin.
"I bet they'd be hunting him! After all, he is the owner of such a vast fortune!" – she thought. But she did not dare to say this phrase aloud, for she was afraid of offending the feelings of her aunt. And what would those pompous Cranfords think of her?
– They are angels," confirmed her aunt. – But now back to your luggage. Anthony, have the footmen take your cousin's bags up to her room…" But when she looked at the carriage in which Vivian had arrived, and saw the single suitcase tied to the roof, she asked, with difficulty suppressing the mockery in her voice: – Is that all your luggage, dear?
– Yes, auntie. I did not wish to carry many things with me: I shall order dresses after the latest London fashion, and purchase everything worthy of being worn by a true London fashionista. – Vivian understood perfectly well her aunt's allusion to her poverty, but again hid her pain behind a smile.
And what could she say? Having struggled to raise the money for the journey to London, London tailors and fashionable shops, she had arrived at Greenhall, at her rich aunt's house, like a beggar, like a beggar. Vivian knew she should have been grateful that she had been allowed to come and even taken into her care. She would live in this huge, beautiful house, walk on those long great balconies, and eat with the Cranfords in their what must have been a large sumptuous dining room. Her aunt had promised her mother to take Vivian out into the world and give a reception in her honour (that was what Beatrice Cranford had written to her dying sister), which would probably help Vivian to make a good party.
After all, the only purpose for which the penniless niece came to London and was prepared to endure the ridicule and coldness of her relatives was to find and marry a rich groom.
