– Please don't fight me again, my love, or I'll have to punish you again," Jeremy said quietly and kissed her lips.
– I promise you will never have to hit me again! – Through tears, Vivian said, humiliating herself again and submitting to his will. "Monster! Monster!" cried the girl within herself. – 'But I beg you: let me see Charlotte and Anthony! They are the only friends I have in this city that is foreign to me!
– All right. But you must be home every night. No sleepovers at Miss Salton's," Jeremy smiled and kissed her again. – But go to bed. I have some paperwork to take care of. I'll wake you when I get back, and you'll have to prove to me that you remembered my lesson.
– Whatever you say, darling," Vivian answered machine-like.
"And even now he won't let me rest! After he has mutilated my poor palms! – Mrs. Wington thought with despair mingled with disgust, and as her husband left the bedroom, she lay down in bed, folded her arms across her chest, and, shutting her eyes tightly to keep back the tears, mentally pleaded: "Heavenly Father, Saviour and Comforter! Comfort me! Give me strength to endure all this for the sake of him whom I love more than myself!"
The next morning Jane frowned at the bruises on her friend's body and her swollen, trembling palms, and this time she could not contain her emotion.
– 'What are those spots on you, Miss Vivian? – she asked directly.
– Nothing," she answered quietly. – Nothing, Jane.
– What about your hands? They're so red!
– Forget it.
– But, Miss Vivian," protested the maid, who wished to discuss this delicate but frightening subject.
– We will not discuss it. And keep your tongue behind your teeth," Vivian interrupted her, somewhat rudely.
Jane could tell from her friend's icy voice that she was not in the best mood for questioning and waited patiently for Miss Vivian to tell her what had happened to her. The maid was not silly, however, and realised who had left the marks of his greedy, strong fingers on Miss Vivian's neck and wrists, but she did not insist.
"Couldn't be more perfect! A house near Charlotte! And just within my means!" thought Anthony, when after an early breakfast he was paid a visit by Mr. William Brown, brother of the Cranford butler.
Having spent the entire day at Lillehus, Anthony had to leave it after dinner, for he himself had made an appointment to see Mr. Brown. When the guest, an elderly, smooth-shaven gentleman in an expensive suit, appeared, young Cranford told him of his desire to have his own place, and the maximum amount of rent he could pay. After listening carefully to the new client, Mr. Brown, who earned good money for his services, smiled and said that he would find something for the young aristocrat worthy of his status. But Anthony did not have to wait long: the very next day Mr. Brown brought him the news that at such and such an address there was a small but elegant two-storey mansion, which had previously been rented by one of Viscount Tanlis's sons. Young Tanlis had only moved out because he had recently married and moved into the house, which was part of his wife's dowry.