– I'm just sorry about Charlotte," she lied in a whisper and put her hand on his elbow. – Not a single gentleman has been asked to marry her since I've seen her lately! But, my love, help me with my cloak. It's so cold outside! How do you find the strength to hunt on such gloomy, windy days?
– I love hunting and I don't mind the weather," Jeremy said with a charming smile. – But today Artemis decided to upset me. No trophies! But tomorrow I'll take your cousin with me, and I swear I'll be home before my sack is full.
– I will pray Artemis to have mercy on you, my dear," Viviane replied affectionately.
"Foolish lover of blood and murder! May God punish you for your bloodlust! May tomorrow your horse throw you off… may tomorrow you be drowned! May your gun shoot you in your own head!" – the girl thought with hatred burning in her soul.
Miss Salton, paired with Mr. Cranford, and the Wingtons left the house and went out into the large but sad autumn garden, in which the bright colours of the flowers did not burn, but only the tired bare trunks of the trees and their crooked branches creaked under the mischief of the wind. Owing to the fact that the girls' hats were securely fastened by silk ribbons tied beautifully under their chins, it was not necessary to hold them down with the palm of the hand, but the gentlemen were less fortunate, and they kept their tall hats from leaving their heads by laughing.
For a quarter of an hour the young men walked in a single line, the paths of the Salton garden being wide and well-maintained. Then Anthony remarked with a laugh that they were obviously eager to gossip, so Charlotte took Vivian's arm, and Jeremy and his friend Cranford slowed their pace so as not to overhear the girls' giggles and talked politics again.
– Forgive my naivety, my dear, but your husband is so polite to me that it's hard to believe that he's actually a tyrant and a despot! – whispered Charlotte to her friend.
– That's gossip! – Vivian exclaimed loudly and laughed, knowing that Jeremy, currently talking to her cousin, was staring at her back. And, leaning in close to Charlotte's face, she said quietly: – It is only a mask, only a screen. He is so charming in society, but so contradictory in his home. Many of the servants are afraid of him. Of course, they have never once voiced this fear aloud, but I can easily read it on their faces.
– I beg you, tell your cousin! He will protect you!
– I can't. If he finds out and discusses it with my husband, the news of my unenviable position will slip out of Wington Hall and be savoured all over London. And my aunt? She will be overjoyed at my tragedy! But, my dear, it's your turn to laugh.
– Probably at the ball in honour of the engagement of the Duke of Nightingale and his bride, many ladies will be weeping tears! – Charlotte said in a cheerful, loud tone.
– Are you sure they'll give a ball? – Vivian chuckled. – They've been engaged for three months and we still can't get an invitation! – She leaned down to her friend's face again and whispered: – Do you really think we shall soon be able to dance at this ball?
– Naturally, my dear. It is considered bad manners to announce an engagement and not to have a celebration," Charlotte answered in the affirmative and whispered: – But should you accept this invitation? You are married, but I suppose your feelings for the Duke are still intact?
