Instead of answering, the young man came close to his spouse, placed the whip on her lap and began to gently stroke her neck with his fingers.
– I'll tell you a funny story," he said quietly after a moment of silence, and Vivian shuddered at the sound of his voice. – When I was ten years old, my father threw a dinner party and invited the few friends he had-" Jeremy grinned. – Three married couples came. Alone, without children. Their children were asleep at home because it was late: my father's whim had set dinner for ten o'clock at night. I, too, was forbidden to leave my room. Strictly forbidden. But I was eager to see the guests, so I quietly crept into the dining room and hid behind a large heavy curtain. But I didn't realise that the curtain didn't hide the toes of my house shoes, and I was soon discovered.
Jeremy stopped talking and wrinkled his nose slightly, as if the memory hurt him. But his fingers continued to stroke the neck of his wife, who sat in front of him, pale and tense as an overly taut string.
– My father was angry with me. His anger was so great that he began to berate and insult me in front of his own guests. He was drunk. He smelled of alcohol so badly that I almost fainted from the odour, which was disgusting to me at the time. I was only a curious child who had recently lost his mother. – Mr. Wington took a deep breath, his dark eyes fixed on the reflection of Vivian's face. – I remembered his face forever: red as an apple, so red I thought his head would explode.
– I'm sorry you had to suffer such a horror, and as an innocent little boy," she said quietly.
– So am I. But that's not the end of the story. – Jeremy leaned down and picked up the whip again. – My father sent me back to my room, and I lay awake, crying. And when the guests left late that night, he burst into my room, dragged me out of bed, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me to the stables. There he ripped off my night shirt, tied my hands to a stall and whipped my back. Thirteen times. I counted every stroke.
– Your father obviously had some serious mental illness… To do that to his own child! – Vivian said, feeling sincere pity for her husband, and took the palm of his hand, which he was stroking her neck, in her own.
– No, he was just teaching me a lesson," he said nonchalantly. – A lesson I've learnt for the rest of my life: never question someone you depend on. Never fight someone who is stronger than you. You disappointed me today, my love, and as a good husband, I must teach you obedience. But, since you are but a fragile woman, I will only give you five strokes.