Granny Dan (8 page)

And when Nikolai led her onto the dance floor, she felt her heart give a little flutter, but not for an instant did she allow herself to think of what he had said to her two weeks before. That chapter in their lives was already over. All they had between them now, or so she told herself, was camaraderie and friendship. But the look in his eyes as he swept her around the floor gracefully in a waltz told an entirely different story. He looked unbearably proud of her, and his gentle touch as he held her as close as he dared would have told her all he couldn't say, if she had let it. Even the Czar mentioned something to his wife when they were dancing.

“I'm afraid Nikolai is smitten with our young visitor from the ballet,” he said by way of observation, without criticism or comment.

“I don't think so, my dear.” The Czarina denied it. She had seen them together frequently, and saw nothing unseemly in their friendship, or behavior.

“It's a shame he's married to that dreadful Englishwoman,” he said, and the Czarina smiled in answer. She wasn't fond of her either.

“I think he's only concerned with Danina's health,” she said firmly, far more naive than her husband.

“She looks lovely in that dress she's wearing. Is it one of yours?” The Czarina was wearing a red velvet gown that was spectacular, with a full set of his mother's rubies, which became her remarkably. She was a beautiful woman, and he loved her dearly. They were both happy he was home again, and at least able to forget the war for a few brief moments.

“It's Olga's actually, but it looks so pretty on Danina, I told her to keep it.”

“She has a lovely figure.” He smiled down at his wife then, no longer interested in talking about their guest. “But so do you, my love. I think Mama's rubies look extremely well on you.”

“Thank you,” she said with a smile, and eventually they left the floor and circulated among their guests. It was a most successful party. And Nikolai and Danina danced half the night away. It was hard to believe she'd ever been ill, and she certainly didn't feel it as she danced with him. It was after midnight when he finally urged her to sit down for a while and rest, before she wore herself out completely. She was having such a good time, she didn't want to stop dancing for a minute.

He brought her a glass of champagne, and smiled as he handed it to her. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bluer than ever, and her bosom tantalizing and creamy. He had to force himself to look away for a moment. But when he looked at her again, he found he couldn't resist her, and moments later, he was dancing with her again, and she looked happier and lovelier than ever.

“I feel like a dismal failure as the guardian of your health,” he confessed as they danced another waltz, looking as though they had danced together forever. The only time he had ever danced with his wife was at their wedding. “I should be forcing you to go home and rest, but I can't bring myself to do it. I'm afraid you're going to be exhausted to the point of feeling ill tomorrow.”

“It will have been worth it,” she said, laughing up at him with the sound that enchanted him unbearably. Just as she did, he wanted the night to go on forever.

It was after three when they finally left, and they were among the last to leave, after Danina had thanked the Czar and Czarina profusely. It had been an unforgettable evening, and they thanked her warmly for coming and, like Nikolai, voiced the hope that she hadn't done herself any damage by dancing so much and staying so long, when perhaps she should have been resting.

“I will stay in bed all day tomorrow,” she promised, and the Czarina urged her to do it. It would be a shame if she fell ill again because of the party.

But she was still in high spirits as they went back to her cottage. It was a lovely night, with a sky filled with stars, fresh snow on the ground, and all she could remember now was the endless dancing. Several people had asked her to dance, and she had danced with them willingly, but most of the evening she had spent in Nikolai's arms, and had to admit she preferred it. She was still chatting happily about all of it as they walked into her cottage, and he helped her take the ermine cape off. And just as he had all night, he couldn't help staring at her, and how beautiful she was in all her finery. More so than any other woman he'd seen all evening.

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked him easily, she was too excited to sleep, and she hated to have it end now. And he had much the same feeling, as he poured himself a glass of brandy, and they went to sit in front of the fire the maids had left for them, and to talk about the evening. She surprised him by sitting at his feet in the splendid gown, and leaning her head against him. She was thinking about the evening, and was smiling into the fire dreamily, as he gently stroked her hair, and felt the sheer pleasure of having her lean against him.

“I will never forget this night,” she said quietly, happy to just be there with him, not wanting anything more than she could have from him.

“Nor will I,” he said, touching her long graceful arm with his hand, and then resting it on her shoulder. She felt so delicate and looked so fragile, and as she turned to look up at him she was smiling. “I'm so happy when I'm with you, Danina,” he confessed, afraid to go too far again, and offend her. But it was so hard not to tell her how he felt about her.

“So am I, Nikolai. We have been very lucky to find each other,” she said, and meant it, not intending to tease him, but merely to celebrate their friendship. But she was making it more difficult for him than ever.

“You make me dream again,” he said sadly, holding his brandy, “of things I gave up years ago.” At thirty-nine, he felt as though he had a lifetime behind him. A lifetime of lost hopes, and shattered illusions and disappointment. And now, in her, he saw the dream again, and yet he couldn't have it with her. “I love being with you.” And then, feeling too far away from her, he slipped onto the floor next to her, and they sat side by side looking into the fire, at their dreams, as he put an arm around her. “I never want to hurt you, Danina,” he said gently. “I want you to always be happy.”

“I am happy here,” she said honestly, and she had been happy at the ballet. She had never really known unhappiness, only endless discipline and great devotion to what she'd been doing. Hers was a life of passion. And then she turned to look at him, and saw that there were tears in his eyes, as there had been earlier when he first saw her that night, but this time she saw them clearly, the first time she hadn't been as certain. “Are you sad, Nikolai?” She felt sorry for him. She knew his life wasn't easy for him. Although she chose not to acknowledge it, she knew how desperately unhappy he was at home, with a woman who didn't love him.

“A little bit perhaps … but mostly very happy to be here with you.”

“You deserve more than that,” she said quietly, realizing that he asked very little of her, and gave of his heart completely. She felt unfair to him suddenly. She had silenced him for her own purposes, so she would not be uncomfortable, but she had forced him to deny his feelings. “You deserve great happiness for all the kind things you do. You give so much to so many … and to me,” she added softly.

“It's easy to give to you. I only wish I had more to give you. Life is cruel sometimes, isn't it? You find precisely what you want … too late to have it.”

“Perhaps it isn't,” she said in a whisper, feeling drawn to him as she had never been to any man, except him, when he had kissed her. He didn't dare ask her what she meant, but only looked at her, and her eyes were beckoning him with an openness and love for him that was so evident, he could not mistake their invitation.

“I don't want to hurt you … or upset you. … I love you too much to do that,” he said, trying to hold back all that he felt for her, for her sake.

“I love you, Nikolai,” she said simply, and without hesitating this time, or fearing anything, he took her gently in his arms and kissed her, and it was all that they had each dreamed of. They were ready for it this time, it did not take them by surprise, or frighten them, and this time it was what they both wanted.

They kissed for a long time in front of the fire, and he held her in his arms, until the fire began to dim and she began to shiver, with the chill and their excitement. She knew that she was his now.

“Come … you will catch a cold, my love. I'll put you to bed, and go,” he whispered in the last glow of the fire, and then he led her to her bedroom. “Shall I help you out of the dress?” It looked complicated and she couldn't manage it alone, and with a small smile she nodded. She would have had to sleep in it without one of the maids to help her undo it.

She looked like a child as he gently lifted the dress away from her, standing there with her lithe, thin, youthful dancer's body, and her eyes were huge as she looked at him with something innocent and longing. “It's too late for you to go home,” she whispered cautiously, not sure what to say to him, or how to begin it. She had never done this before, and couldn't imagine it now. But she also could no longer imagine not being with him.

“What are you saying to me?” he whispered back in the chill of the early morning, looking worried.

“Stay with me. We don't have to do anything we don't want to. I just want you here with me.” He belonged there, and she knew it, just as he did.

“Oh, Danina,” he said softly, knowing that it was the beginning of a new life, and the end of an old one. For both of them, it was a moment filled with promise and decision. “I want so much to be here with you.” It was all he had wanted since the moment he met her, even more so since she had come here. And he realized now this was why he had done everything he could to bring her to this cottage, to be near him.

They undressed carefully, and a moment later were in her huge comfortable bed, snuggled deep under the covers, and as she glanced up at him in the darkness, she giggled, and sounded like a schoolgirl.

“Why are you laughing, silly girl?” he asked, still whispering, as though someone could hear them. But there was no one there at that hour. They were entirely alone, with their secrets and their love for each other.

“It just seems funny. … I was so afraid of what I felt for you … and of what I knew of your feelings, and now here we are, like two naughty children.”

“Not naughty children, my love … happy ones … maybe we have a right to this after all … perhaps it was meant to be. My destiny, and yours. Danina, I have never loved any woman as I love you.” And with that, he kissed her quietly and firmly, and her passion rose with his, as he taught her all she had never known and never dreamed of, and never thought of finding with him. But it was all there, waiting for her, the gifts, the grace, the love they had each longed for. And as she slept in his arms at last, he held her close and smiled at the generosity of the gods for giving her to him.

“Good night, my love,” he whispered gratefully, and fell fast asleep beside her.

Chapter 5

T
he secret they shared grew between them like a field of wildflowers in summer. He came to see her every day, as he had before, but now he stayed much longer, while still managing to perform his duties at the palace. And at night, when he had completed what he had to do there, he returned to her, and slept with her. He had told his wife that they needed him at night now to stay with Alexei. And she seemed to have no interest, and no objection.

Danina was thrilled to have him. He taught her things that bound her to him, and they gave their hearts and souls to each other. They told each other everything, and had no secrets from each other. Their hopes, their dreams, their childhood fears, and the only real terror they shared was that they might one day lose each other. They had not yet sorted out what would happen when she left there. Because they both knew that eventually she'd have to. And after that, they would have to do something about their future. But he had said nothing to his wife yet.

They just wanted to enjoy what they had, for now, before they caused any major explosions. And once their happiness became real to them, February flew past them like an express train, and March along with it. She had been there for three months, when she finally began talking, with regret, of returning to the ballet. She couldn't begin to imagine how she would do it. And even Madame Markova had been asking her pointedly about when she planned to return for classes and training. It was going to take her months to get back what she had lost in her months of illness. Compared to her grueling daily routine at the ballet, the modest exercises she'd done here meant nothing. Even with her daily exercise, it was no way near enough for the ballet. And finally, with regret, she promised to return to St. Petersburg at the end of April. But the thought of leaving Nikolai was almost more than she could bear now.

They spoke of it seriously late one afternoon, three weeks before she was scheduled to leave him. He thought it was time for him to speak to Marie, and suggest that she return to England, with the children. The deception had to end now. But he was not yet sure what Danina wanted to do about the ballet. She had her own choices to make on that subject.

“What do you think Marie will say when you tell her?”

“I think she'll be relieved,” he said honestly. He was sure of that, but not as sure that she would agree to divorce him. He preferred not to tell her about Danina if he could help it. There were more than enough reasons to end it with his wife, without complicating matters further.

“And the boys? Will she let you see them?” She looked worried, this was all she had tormented herself about before they began their affair, and why she had hesitated to do so. But they could never have stopped themselves. That had been a fantasy. She knew that clearly now. This was real, and they would never have been able to deny it.

“I don't know what she'll do about the boys,” he said honestly. “I may have to wait to see them until they're older.” The pain of it showed in his eyes, and Danina saw it with anguish for him. “And Madame Mark ova?” he asked her in return. That was almost as big a question, though somewhat simpler in his eyes, but not Danina's.

“I will talk to her when I go back to St. Petersburg,” she said, trying to still the fear she felt, or the sense that she was about to betray her. Madame Markova expected so much from her, had given so much to her, and she would be devastated if Danina left the ballet. But for her, everything had changed now. Her life belonged to Nikolai, and she could no longer ignore that.

Miraculously, what they had shared seemed to have gone unnoticed by everyone but the maids in her cottage, and remarkably they had been discreet about it thus far. No one in the Imperial family had ever commented on it to Nikolai, and even Alexei, who spent a great deal of time with them, had no sense that things had changed between them.

But in the last three weeks they shared, there was a kind of desperation to what they were both feeling. Such as it had been, as idyllic and perfect as the time was, it was about to end now. A new life was about to be entered into. And Danina was worried about it. If she left the ballet to be with him, where would she live, and who would support her? If he divorced Marie, would the scandal cost him his sacred place in the Imperial family? It was a great deal for them to consider and think of. But he had already promised that he would find her a place to live, and support her, though she didn't want to be a burden to him, and thought she should stay with the ballet until Marie left for England.

In the end, he decided to tell Marie after Danina left, so as to shield her from any reaction to the scandal it might cause at home or in the palace. And to both of them, it seemed the wisest decision. He would come to see her at the ballet as soon as he could, and tell her what had happened, and then they could make their plans from that moment onward. Besides, the ballet needed time to replace her. Although she had been ill for months, they were still counting on her for performances that summer and the following winter. It was possible, she had explained to him, that she might even have to wait until the end of the year to leave them, but he said he understood that. They would spend as much time together as they could, in spite of the demands on both of them, and the heavy training she would have to undertake now. But she was ready and strong again, and happier than she had ever been, with her love for him, and all that they had promised to each other.

But despite all the promises, their last week was an agony of sorrow. They spent every moment together that they could, and for the first time, the Czarina noticed how close they were, and agreed with what her husband had noticed earlier. She was almost certain Nikolai and Danina were in love with each other. The Czar was on leave again at the time, and she mentioned it to him.

“I don't blame him,” he said quietly to his wife late one night, as Nikolai and Danina were spending one of their last nights in the cottage. “She's very lovely.”

“Do you think he'll leave his wife for her?” The Czarina was beginning to wonder, and the Czar said he couldn't guess at other people's madness. “And if he does, will you mind?” she asked him, and the head of the Imperial family pondered the question, uncertain of his decision on the subject.

“It will depend how he does it. If it's done quietly, it shouldn't affect anything. If it becomes a terrible scandal that upsets everyone, we'll have to think about it.” It was a sensible conclusion, and the Czarina was relieved to hear it. She didn't want to lose Nikolai as Alexei's doctor. But she also wondered if Danina would leave the ballet. She was very young, had a lot invested in it, and she was their most famous prima. To the Czarina it seemed a little like leaving the convent, not easily done, and she was sure the ballet would do everything they could to keep her. It was going to be a difficult decision, if Danina chose to do it, and she felt sorry for her. She hoped things went well for both of them, if they decided to embark on a new life together. In the months that Danina had been there, they had all come to love her.

They gave a small dinner for her the night before she left, with the children and a few close friends present, both physicians, and a handful of people who had met and fallen in love with Danina, and she had tears in her eyes when she thanked them, and promised to return. The Czarina asked her to come and visit them at Livadia that summer, as she had done the year before with Madame Markova, and they promised to come and watch her perform as soon as she was dancing.

“I'll really teach you to swim this time,” Alexei promised and gave her a gift that she knew he hated to part with. It was a small jade Faberge frog that he loved because he thought it was so ugly. But he gave it to her, awkwardly wrapped in a drawing he had made her. The girls had each written her poems, and made lovely watercolors for her, and together they gave her a photograph of all of them, with Danina. She was still deeply touched when she and Nikolai went back to the cottage for their last night together.

“I can't bear to leave you tomorrow,” she said sadly, after they made love, and lay in each other's arms, talking until morning. She couldn't believe her stay here was over, even if they told each other a new life was beginning. That night when they came home from dinner, he had given her a gold locket on a chain, with a photograph of him in it. He looked so much like the Czar in the photograph that she wasn't even sure it was Nikolai at first, but it was, and she promised to wear it every moment when she wasn't dancing.

The last hours they shared were an agony for both of them, and they both cried when he put her on the train for the short trip she had to make to return to the ballet in St. Petersburg. She didn't want him to go back with her, for fear that Madame Markova would instantly see what had happened between them. She believed that her mentor had mystical powers and was all-seeing and all-knowing, but he had agreed not to go with her. He was going to speak to Marie that afternoon, and promised to let Danina know immediately what had happened.

But as he stood on the platform, watching the train, they both felt their hearts breaking, and a chapter ending that they had cherished. She hung out the window for as long as she could, and saw him standing there, waving at her, his eyes locked in hers, her locket around her neck, as she felt it with trembling fingers. He had shouted to her that he loved her, as they pulled away, and had kissed her so many times in the cottage before they left that her lips were sore, and she had had to comb her hair again twice before she left him. They were like two children being torn from their parents, and it reminded her more than a little of when her father had taken her to the ballet to live. She was just as terrified now, possibly even more so.

Madame Markova was waiting for her in the station when she arrived in St. Petersburg. She seemed taller, and thinner, and looked more severe than ever. Danina thought she looked suddenly older, and she felt as though she had been gone forever. But Madame Markova kissed her warmly, and looked deeply pleased when she saw her. Despite what had happened to Danina while she was away, she had missed Madame Markova immensely.

“You look well, Danina. Happy and rested.”

“Thank you, Madame. Everyone was wonderful to me.”

“So I understood from your letters.” There was an edge to her voice, a toughness Danina had forgotten in her. It was what drove everyone well beyond their capabilities, to please her. But she was cool as they drove to the ballet in a taxi. And Danina tried to fill the void, by telling her about her adventures with the Imperial family, and the parties she'd been to. But she had the very clear sense that she had somehow displeased her mistress, and more than ever it made Danina long for the life she had left behind at Tsarskoe Selo. But she knew she had to return now to her obligations.

“When do I begin classes again?” Danina asked as she watched the familiar city roll past them.

“Tomorrow morning. I suggest you commence exercising this afternoon to prepare yourself. I assume you have done nothing to maintain yourself during your convalescence?” Aside from Danina's few daily exercises, she had assumed correctly, and did not look pleased about it when Danina nodded.

“The doctor didn't think it wise, Madame,” was her only excuse. She did not even bother to mention the half hour of exercise she had done daily. She knew that to her ballet mistress, it would seem a negligible effort.

Madame Markova stared ahead in silence and said nothing, as the atmosphere grew thick between them.

She had been reassigned to her old room, and it filled Danina's heart with sadness when she saw the old building. Instead of feeling like a homecoming to her, it was only a reminder of how far she was now from Nikolai and their nights in the beloved cottage. She couldn't imagine spending a night without him, but she was going to have to. They both had long roads to travel separately until they could once again be together, hopefully forever.

She had thought of saying something to Madame Markova immediately about her plans, but she had decided to wait until she heard from Nikolai about the divorce and Marie's move to England. It all depended on how fast things were moving. And beneath the thin surface of her blouse, she felt the comfort of her locket.

Everyone was warming up, or rehearsing, or exercising, or in class when she arrived, and there was no one in the stark room she had left four months before. It looked strange to her now, and pitifully ugly as she changed into a leotard and ballet shoes, and hurried down the stairs to the studio she normally warmed up in. And when she got there, she saw Madame Mar-kova, sitting quietly in a corner, watching the others. Her presence made Danina feel slightly uncomfortable, but she got to work at the barre, and was stunned to discover how stiff she was, how awkward her movements, how unwilling her limbs were to do what they had been trained for.

“You have a lot of work to do, Danina,” Madame Markova said sternly, as Danina nodded. Her body had become her enemy in four brief months, and did none of the things she expected of it. And that night, when she went to bed, every muscle she had used for the first time in months was screaming at her. She could hardly sleep for the pain she felt everywhere, nor get up the next day, as she felt every muscle in her body tighten. The effect of the past four months of indolence and happiness had been brutal.

But no less so than the rigorous training she launched into at five o'clock that morning. She was in her first class at six, and worked until nine o'clock that night, and through most of it, Madame Markova watched her.

“Your gift was not given to waste,” she said harshly after the first class, and then warned her even more sharply that she would never get back what she had lost if she didn't push herself well beyond her limits. And then she added, “If you are not willing to pay for it with blood, Danina, you do not deserve it.” She was visibly furious at what Danina had lost in her months away from the ballet, and she reminded her unkindly that night that her place as their first prima was not simply something they owed her, but an honor she had to earn back if she intended to regain her position.