– 'That won't happen,' she said firmly.

'Who knows! – Jane thought to herself. – I'll never let him whip you again, my dear Miss Vivian!"

– Did my consort say you were in love? – Jeremy asked after the young hunters had eaten a hearty lunch, hiding from the rain in a small wooden hut built in the thick of the forest for stranded travellers.

– In love," Anthony confirmed, and drew the smoke of a large, expensive cigar into his lungs.

– In love with whom? – Jeremy clarified and took a puff.

– Let it be a secret.

– Why the overtures?

– I want my engagement to this girl to be as big a surprise to you as your wedding to my cousin was to me," Anthony smiled good-naturedly. – But, my friend, confess: has it made you happy?

– Oh, I am happier than anyone else. – Jeremy looked at his friend carefully and, squinting his eyes, asked: – Why the curiosity? Was it a conversation with Vivian that prompted you to ask?

– Vivian? Of course not. She is content and happy," Anthony waved him away.

– Did she say so herself? – Mr. Wington asked again.

– 'Yes.

– Do you think she loves me?

– We didn't talk about that," Anthony lied lightly, twirling his cigar in his fingers. Jeremy's strange, inappropriate questions made him uncomfortable, but he was not going to give away Vivian and her true attitude to her husband, so he hurried to change the subject unobtrusively. – But what are you? "Has the The House become a thing of the past? Or are you still enjoying?

– I'm a family man now, and hopefully I'll be a father soon," Jeremy said instead. – To hell with old troubles. To hell with prostitutes when I have such a gorgeous wife. And you, brother monk, I take it you haven't been to our pleasure house in almost six months.

– That's right. You're right: we've wised up, so to speak, and realised that reputations are hard to earn but so easy to lose. And I need my good reputation so that my bride-to-be won't feel uncomfortable knowing what kind of life I led before I met her. – Anthony thought for a moment, puffed on his cigar, and then, exhaling a thick white smoke, added quietly: "Yes, and, I should say, our behaviour at the Den could be called boyish. By the way, did I tell you that I've found a small but cosy home?

– You didn't, but I congratulate you on it," Jeremy said with a smile. – But who encouraged you to take this step? Your caring, perhaps even overprotective mother?

– She did, too. And Vivian," Anthony admitted, and grinned derisively, remembering how he had deceived himself about the love and passion he had felt for his cousin. But he did not wish to tell his friend of this shameful love: what would Jeremy think if he learnt that his best friend was in love with his present wife? – But more to the point, Viscount Willoughby. He had seen me not quite sober after the night at the Den, and his reaction, or rather warning, had greatly influenced my judgement.

– Old man Willoughby! The cunning fox! My father once told me that in his youth this ascetic had been involved in adventures and scandals more than once. But he's taken care of your reputation! Bravo! – Jeremy laughed loudly. – Well, who became the lady of your heart, you will not tell me, so I propose to continue the hunt!

– Jeremy, tell me…" Anthony began, but remembering that his cousin had asked him not to reveal to her husband what he had learnt about the bruises on her neck and wrists, he immediately found another question. – Are you aware of the fact that the high society of London is surprised that you and your wife have not appeared at balls and soirees for a long time?

– Really? – The man replied indifferently.

– Yes, Miss Salton informed me of it yesterday," the young Cranford confirmed his words. – Everyone's been asking what's happened to dear Mrs. Wington. Where has she gone? After all, Vivian is quite popular in the community.

– Hm, we just don't want to go to balls," Jeremy shrugged. – But now I understand that we must make a public appearance, so that ladies and gentlemen may be assured that Mrs. Wington is alive and well, and that her husband is blowing carefully the dust off her.

"So carefully that he leaves bruises on her skin," thought Anthony grudgingly, but remembering his cousin's words that it was the result of her and her husband's bed-play, he decided that the Wingtons were free to do as they pleased in their bedroom.

Putting out their cigars, the hunters gave the remainder of their lunch to the dogs, put on their wet hats and cloaks, walked out of the shelter into the rain, and mounted their horses, which in a moment were tapping their hoofs on the muddy, viscous dark ground. The hunting dogs Aurelius and Mark kept pace and howled with joy as they enjoyed the fast run.