– But, Viviane, why do you desire such a friend as Mademoiselle de Croix? – She is beautiful, but the only thing she wants is a favourable marriage.

– My dear cousin, you make it sound like a reproach," Vivian said softly. – I wish the same thing.

– I don't think you're trying to catch the wrong bird, dear cousin," Anthony retorted. – It is common knowledge in London that Mademoiselle de Croix wishes to marry the Duke of Nightingale, and flirts shamelessly with him every time she meets him.

– Are you comparing this girl to a bird? – his cousin replied with a laugh.

– Do you find such a comparison unworthy? – he grinned. – Girls like her are birds, but they are wingless. They cannot fly. Their destiny is to stay where they were born and walk on the ground.

– In your opinion, cousin, am I a wingless bird? – Vivian grinned coldly: What a cheeky fellow! He thinks that anyone who was not lucky enough to be born into a family of wealthy aristocrats has no moral right to dreams and aspirations!

Mademoiselle de Croix's motives and reputation were indifferent to Miss Cowell, but she was deeply offended: Anthony had unknowingly wounded her by openly saying that "wingless birds" like her could never escape their poverty, especially through marriage. "No self-respecting aristocrat of the Duke of Nightingale's rank would marry you, Vivian. Abandon your hopes and dreams: you are nothing," was how an angry Vivian interpreted her cousin's words. But she tried to keep calm, for she knew that emotion would betray her and give the Cranfords her plans, which they must never know.

– Alas, my dear Viviane, that is so. But what distinguishes you from Mademoiselle de Croix is your sober judgement: for you do not, I hope, allow imagination and pride to rob you of your grasp of reality. You are anxious to marry well, but you will not chase after the phantom hopes of a marriage with a man who is fortunate enough to have a high, high-profile title," Anthony smiled softly.

"How wrong you are, my cruel cousin!" – flashed through the girl's mind. Smiling sarcastically, Vivian brought the porcelain cup of fragrant freshly brewed coffee to her lips.

– And yet you are unfair to Mademoiselle de Croix," she finally said grimly. – And I will prove it to you. We shall become close friends, and I hope she will become the consort of the Duke of Nightingale himself.

– That will never happen. – Anthony could see clearly how his beautiful cousin's mood had suddenly fallen, but he was unwilling to back down. – Duke Nightingale will not marry even Aphrodite, if she is poorer than himself. Besides, there are rumours that he will soon marry Admiral Beckley's daughter, who has royal blood in her. So when you become Mademoiselle de Croix's friend, try to open her eyes to the bitter reality.

– You are cruel, cousin. Have you no heart? – Miss Cowell frowned and rose abruptly from her chair: her blood was boiling with anger, and she was determined to leave her cousin's and aunt's company before the volcano exploded in her. – Please forgive me, auntie: I have a headache. I always get a headache when the sky is covered with such dark, rainy clouds.

– Of course, my dear, go to your chambers and lie down," Lady Cranford said to her gently: she was glad that there had been a misunderstanding between her son and her niece, for it might have led to a cessation of communication between them. She had a hope of that.

– Could you send Jane to me with a wet towel? – Vivian asked.

– 'I will.

Vivian made a deep curtsy and retired to her chambers. Now that she was free from the scrutiny of her aunt's and her cousin's watchful eyes, her cheeks flamed with anger, and her heart was full of indignation and contempt for Anthony, who regarded her as a "wingless bird". Vivian put her fingers to her forehead and wrinkled her nose: she had a real headache and wished she could lie down.