– What are you afraid of? – Jeremy narrowed his eyes.

– 'I'm not afraid of anything, my dear. It's just a letter from my father. I think he's asking you for money again.

– If it's a letter from your father, why won't you show it to me? – Mr. Wington insisted again with a smile, but with a cold glint in his eyes.

– 'Because this letter is meant for me and not for you, my love. – Fortunately, Vivian was perfectly in control of herself and did not let her emotions take over. – But, my dear, do you suspect me of something?

– Not at all, my angel. Well, tell your father he won't get more than a thousand pounds this time. What's he already spent what you sent him a little while ago?

– He's trying to rebuild his print shop and needs to buy new equipment. – Vivian nonchalantly continued to butter her bun. – But, my dear, you must not send him money. Not yet. I think he realises he's asking for too much.

– When is he going to visit you and meet your husband? – Jeremy wiped his lips with his napkin and threw it on the empty plate.

– I don't know, he's so busy with his printing business," Vivian smiled back. She brought the bun to her mouth, but stopped suddenly and dropped it on the plate. – 'After breakfast I want to go to Charlotte's. We're going to entertain ourselves by singing.

– 'Not today.

"Stubborn fool. I need to buy back my jewellery!" – screamed the girl inside her, but not a muscle in her face trembled.

– 'Not today, my dear?

– We are going hunting.

Vivian looked at her husband's face with misunderstanding.

He answered her with a shining smile.

– Jeremy, you know how I feel about hunting," Vivian said quietly. There was a deep wrinkle between her eyebrows.

– I'll do the shooting, and all you have to do is enjoy the running of the horse.

– But I don't want to watch you kill innocent animals," she said grimly.

– No one is forcing you to watch it. You can always close your eyes or turn your face away," Jeremy said in a noncommittal tone.

– Please don't insist. Besides, I've already made Charlotte a promise…

– I'm sorry you're going to have to break it.

Jeremy's face was so unruffled and his gaze so intense and burning that Vivian knew she would not be able to buy back her jewellery today. Instead, she would have to fulfil the wish of her hard-hearted husband.

A wish?

No, it was an order.

– Whatever you say, my dear. I'll write her a note.

– Good girl.

Vivian smiled falsely, but her soul was filled with a grave coldness.

If Jeremy was a fine rider, and his fast as the wind, thin-legged Arabian horse obeyed him like a faithful dog, his wife was hardly an able horsewoman.

As a child, when her father still had some wealth, Vivian had received riding lessons and had learnt to be confident in the saddle. But since she was eight years old, she had never been on a horse's back and was now filled with shyness and a slight fear of the swift running of her rather docile but frisky horse. Despite the fact that Vivian was wearing a comfortable riding dress and the high leather boots with a large heel, she felt as if she had never had a single riding lesson. She frantically held the reins in her hands and breathed rapidly, as if she was the one carrying the horse, not the other way round.

The great forest away from London was full of game, and this was where the London hunters were rushing to. The sunlight was drowned in the thick green crowns of tall, mighty trees, so it was quite dark.

The darkness frightened Vivian, made her feel like a bug lost in a vast forest full of rage and death. For that was how she perceived hunting, which her own cousin, as well as her husband, regarded only as a pleasure. Vivian did not want to be here, riding a horse along a barely discernible bushy path, waiting for her husband to find his prey.

Two trained hunting dogs – young, full of vigour and energy greyhounds – were running with the speed of the wind between the trees in front of their owners' horses in pursuit of a rather large red fox. The poor hunted animal began to lose strength, and soon a loud shot rang through the air, causing Vivian to shriek in surprise.

– What a catch! Marcus! Aurelius! You have done well, my friends!" Jeremy laughed happily and started his horse at a jog.

Vivian stopped her horse and looked regretfully at where her husband was pointing his horse: not far away from them, a fox lay a bright spot on the dark, dry ground. Blood was pouring from the side of the dead animal. Jeremy had killed the poor creature with a single shot, which, in itself, was an act of mercy: the victim had died painlessly. But this fact by no means comforted the girl who hated hunting.