'How beautiful you are!' he said softly. 'The way you turn your head… your arms… your grace.' He reached out and caught her hand, his grip so tight that she winced with pain but said nothing, unwilling for him to let go his hold.
'It would have saved so much unhappiness if you'd kissed me before,' she whispered.
'Were you very unhappy, my darling?'
She nodded. 'I loved you so much I couldn't think of anything else.'
'You once loved Timothy that way too.'
The words were uttered without expression, but the jealousy in them was too obvious to be ignored and she knew that unless she could dispel it now it would always be there to haunt him and spoil their relationship.
'Don't begrudge what I felt for Timothy,' she said quietly. 'He was my first love - a romantic ideal that didn't really exist except in my imagination. It was a dream, Gregory, that had no basis in reality, no foundation of friendship or understanding or even mutual interests. We were both children playing at love.'
'But you married him. You were his wife. If you hadn't seen Lydia that night you'd…'
'I suppose I would,' Melanie answered the unspoken question, but then followed it with another one. 'How long do you think it would have lasted? You knew Timothy better than I did, Gregory. From what you know of me now, do you think my marriage to him would ever have been successful?'
'It isn't fair to ask me that.'
'Everything's fair if you're fighting for your happiness,' she retorted passionately. 'And I'm fighting for you!'
This time she was the one to pull him close, cradling his head in her arms and stroking the crisp dark hair. Til never love anyone else, Gregory. Only you. You must believe that.'
His answer was to raise his head and draw her face down to his, the touch of his lips making words unnecessary.
CHAPTER NINE
At breakfast the next morning Melanie told Verenskaya that Gregory had told her he loved her and the old woman threw her hands up in the air and let flood a torrent of Russian.
'In English!' Melanie protested. 'I can't understand a word you're saying!'
Verenskaya stopped abruptly and spooned sugar into her coffee. 'All I said was that you do not look as happy as you should.'
‘What a thing to say!'
'But I have said it!'
'That still doesn't mean it's true!'
'But it is.' The dark eyes were shrewd. You are unhappy because you think you will have to give up your dancing.'
Melanie sighed. 'Can't you ever leave anything unsaid?'
‘No. That is an Anglo-Saxon habit which is alien to me. Besides, I do not agree with it! Hidden feelings rarely die; they build up and explode or they magnify and distort.'
'It's too early for Chekhov,' Melanie expostulated.
'I was not quoting anyone,' came the dignified reply. 'The sentiments were my own.'
Despite herself Melanie could not help smiling, and seeing it Verenskaya pounced. 'It is true what I said, no?'
‘Yes,' Melanie agreed. 'It is true. I've been thinking of my dancing.'
‘He has asked you to stop when you become his wife?'
'He hasn't proposed to me yet,' Melanie said with care.
'It was an unspoken proposal,' Verenskaya said with certainty. 'I have no great belief in a man's honour, but he is not the kind to want anything from you without marriage.' Absentmindedly the woman put additional sugar into her coffee. 'But the dancing: he will want you to give it up?'
'I'm sure of it He runs a large company and he must do a lot of entertaining. Once we - if we marry he'll expect me to be with him. He won't want to come home to an empty house night after night.'
‘You would not be dancing night after night as a ballerina. There will be many occasions when you will be free.'
'My life still wouldn't be my own.'
Verenskaya sipped her coffee, made a face and then put it down. 'So once again you will give it up?’
'No.'
It was a quiet sound but spoken with such force that a broad smile marked Verenskaya's face. 'So at last you realize what dancing can mean.'
'Yes. It took me a long time, but I know it now. It's part of my life.' She stopped, bewildered. ‘But it doesn't make sense. I gave it up for Timothy, yet for Gregory - whom I love much more - I can't do it.'
‘But you are a different person now. And a different dancer too. You have a chance of greatness ahead of you and that is something one cannot give up lightly.'
'Even for love?'
‘Real love would not demand it.'
Melanie remembered these words later that morning when the bell rang and she opened the door of the flat to see Gregory on the threshold.
'I know I should have rung you to say I was coming,' he said, stepping in and gathering her into his arms, 'but I wasn't really intending to. I was on my way to the office and the car made a detour all by itself I'
She returned his kiss with fervour and then drew him into the living-room. 'I love surprises like this,' she exclaimed, and pushed him down into a chair, enjoying the sight of him, so tall and large and incongruous among the knick-knacks and the gilded ikons.
‘Why I really came,' he said slowly, ‘was to make sure last night wasn't a dream.' He held out his arms as he spoke and she sat down in his lap and rested against him.
‘Does this make it seem real?’ she whispered.
For answer he nuzzled against her throat and for a long while they did not speak.
It was Gregory finally who sensed there was something troubling her, for he pushed her into a sitting position and, keeping his arms firmly round her waist, asked her what was wrong.
'Don't bother saying It's nothing,' he said. 'I can tell when you're upset. Is it the damn stupid things I said to you last night?'
She shook her head. ‘No.'
'Then what is it? I know it's something important or It wouldn't affect you like this.'
She looked down at her hands and, surprised to see they were clutched together, knew how deeply she subconsciously felt. Verenskaya was right It would be impossible to live a lie with Gregory.
'It's my dancing,' she said carefully. It will be difficult - very difficult for me to give it up again.'
'I see.' He leaned back in the chair, the tilt of his head giving his features an arrogance she had not seen on them for a long time. 'What makes you think I'd want you to give it up?’
She stared at him. 'But I thought… I assumed…'
‘You assumed too much, my darling. I don't only love you, Melanie, I understand you.' He moved his head and she saw that his mouth was curved in a tender smile. 'And understanding you, I know that your work is a part of you, and that to ask you - or expect you - to give to up, would be selfish and wrong.'
f Relief welled up in her, but she pressed it down, determined to make him see exactly what his words meant 'If I do go on with my dancing, it won't be easy for you. You'll spend many evenings alone and—’
‘I’ll come and watch you.’
‘Even when you're giving business dinners?’
There'll be problems,' he agreed, ‘but we'll overcome them.' His grip tightened. ‘You've got more than talent; you have a rare gift that I'd be crazy to try and destroy. Of course there'll be times when I'll resent not having you at home with me - when I'll want to come into the dining-room and see you facing me across the table instead of watching you on the stage. But there'll be compensations too. Our time alone together will be sweeter, more meaningful' He pulled her back against him. But even with his heart beating close beneath hers, she still felt uneasy.
'Are you absolutely sure?’ she asked.
‘Positive.' He pushed her up into a sitting position. 'Do you think I want a fool of a girl who spends her mornings shopping, her afternoons gossiping, and her evenings sitting in front of a television set? I don't only love your body, Melanie, I love your mind and the spirit that's given you the talent which you stupidly believe I want to stop. If I loved a painter do
you think I'd ask her not to paint? If you were a pianist would I ask you to give up your music?'
‘But ballet demands so much more. There may be times when it will even take me away from you.’
If I asked you to give up your dancing in order to marry me,' he said quietly, ‘I believe that would take you away from me even more.’
She looked him fully in the face, for his answer told her clearly how well he understood her feelings. 'I'm so lucky to have found you,' she said huskily.
‘We're lucky to have found each other.’ He picked up her hand and, turning the palm upwards, kissed it ‘We must go shopping,' he said In a completely different tone of voice. The finger on your left hand looks much too bare. Put on your coat.'
She gave an exclamation of disappointment. 'Oh, darling, I can't go shopping now. I have a matinee today and I'm already late for rehearsal.'
'I'm learning quicker than I realized,’ he said ruefully. 'Never mind, though, I'll drive you to the theatre just to show there's no hard feelings!'
‘Will you pick me up tonight?’
'Nothing will keep me away.’
Buoyant with happiness Melanie arrived at the theatre, and had just changed into her practice tights when Anton strode into her dressing-room without knocking, his face livid with anger.
'What's this rubbish Verenskaya's just told me about you and Gregory Ransome?' he demanded. 'You can't be crazy enough to marry him!’
'I'd be crazy if I didn't! I love him.'
‘Wasn't one marriage enough? Do you have to ruin your life again - and end your career just when—'
'I'm not giving up my dancing this time,' she retorted swiftly. 'Gregory's agreed that I can—'
'Agreed.’’ Anton spat out the word. ‘Did you have to have his agreement before deciding the most important thing in your life?'
‘Yes/ she said quietly, ‘I did. And it's childish for you to make a scene for nothing. Gregory never even expected me to stop dancing. He wants me to have a career.'
‘That's what he says now. But wait till you're his wife. It'll be a different story then!' With an oath Anton stormed out, banging the door so hard that the pots of greasepaint on the dressing table rattled.
Trembling, Melanie bent to lace up her pumps, wishing she knew how much of Anton's fury stemmed from hurt pride that she had not fallen in love with him, and how much from genuine fear that she might give up the ballet. But either way there was nothing she could do to appease him.
She walked over to the minor to powdet her flushed cheeks, and looking into her eyes knew that despite the vehemence with which she had assured Anton - and Verenskaya too - that her dancing was something she would not be able to give up - knew that one day in the future she would give it up willingly in order to have Gregory's children.
Gregory's children. The thought filled her with such intense emotion that she sank on to a chair, lost in a happy dream from which she was only aroused by the callboy's voice reminding her that she was wanted on stage.
By the time the rehearsal was over there was only an hour left before the matinee, and Melanie decided to rest in her dressing- room, savouring the joy of all that lay before her. How different it would be tonight when Gregory called for her; no longer would she need to hide what she felt for him, and she could run into his arms and let him see all the love that was his for the taking.
Counting the hours until she could be with him, it came as an unpleasant shock when he telephoned during the interval to say he would be unable to see her that night.
'Something's cropped up that I must deal with,' he explained, his voice so weary and strained that she intuitively felt it was more of a personal reason than a business one.
The second performance doesn't begin till seven-thirty,' she said. 'Can't we meet for a few minutes then?'
'I'm afraid not.’
‘Is there anything wrong, Gregory?'
‘I can always see you dance another night.’
His answer to her question was so ridiculous that for an Instant she was puzzled.
'Someone's with you, isn't there?' she said softly.
That's right.' His voice was noncommittal.
Then I won't keep you. Telephone me later if you get the chance. I won't go to bed before midnight’
'I'll try.'
Abruptly he hung up, and still disturbed she put down the receiver and returned to the wings. But though she tried not to worry she kept thinking of him throughout the evening, glancing at the clock frequently in the hope that he would call her before she left the theatre. But no word came from him and she went back to the flat, where she drank tea she did not want until the chiming of the clock told her he would not be telephoning her that night
Despondently she went to bed, but though she fell asleep at once, anxious dreams disturbed her rest, filling her with a nameless terror that several times woke her up in startled, Inexplicable fear. She was in the middle of another haunting nightmare when Verenskaya's voice brought her fully awake, and she sat up quickly, anxiety restoring her to full consciousness.
'What is it, Madame? Is anything wrong?'
‘No, child. But Mrs. Ransome's on the telephone. She seemed anxious to talk to you.' 'I bet Gregory's told her we're engaged.' Melanie jumped out of bed and, without stopping to put on dressing gown or slippers, ran into the hall and picked up the receiver.
'I'm so sorry if I woke you up, dear,' Mrs. Ransome's voice was warm and friendly. 'But I wasn't sure what time you start rehearsing, and I wanted to catch you. I thought it would be nicer to tell you first, rather than have you read it in the papers.'
'Read what in the papers?'
The engagement.'
‘Do you mean it's already leaked out?' Melanie asked incredulously.
‘Yes. And it's on the front page too, with a big picture of Gregory and a lot of nonsense about all the money he's made.' The woman chuckled. ‘I bet he's furious at the publicity.'
'I can imagine,' Melanie said ruefully. ‘I wonder how they heard.'
‘Lydia must have told them.'
‘Lydia? Why on earth should she do so?’
To show off, I suppose. She's been in love with him for months.'
Melanie clutched at the hall table, unwilling to believe what she was hearing, yet knowing It was not a figment of her imagination nor a nightmare from which she would awaken. But it could not be true. It was impossible.
‘What exactly does it say In the papers?’ she asked huskily.
'Just that he and Lydia are engaged to be married.’
Though Melanie was not conscious of speaking she must have made some sound, for Airs. Ransome stopped abruptly. Ts anything wrong, dear?’
‘No - no. I just - it's only that—' she caught her breath - 'it's cold out here.'
'How naughty of me to keep you talking. Go back to bed and I'll speak to you later. It's just that I wanted to tell you the news before you read it. You're one of the family, you know.'
'Yes… thank you.’ Melanie spoke slowly, enunciating the words carefully for fear she would not be able to say them at all.
Then with the same care she put the receiver on its rest and went into her bedroom.
Verenskaya took one look at her face and hurried forward. ‘What is it, Melanie? Has something happened to Gregory?’
'Yes,' she said quietly. 'His engagement's been announced - to Lydia Fenwick.'
It was only on rare occasions that Verenskaya was robbed of speech, but the news that Gregory had become engaged to Lydia Fenwick was one of them, and hearing it from Melanie the old woman sat down in a chair speechless, her body bending forward so that her black dress fell around her like a shroud.
Frightened by the yellow tinge on the wrinkled face, Melanie forgot her own misery and hurried into the kitchen to make coffee. Her mind was a blank and she did the task automatically, filling the kettle with water, waiting for it to boil, setting out the cups and returning to the bedroom with the coffee brewed.
Verens
kaya was still sitting in the same humped position, but she accepted the coffee gratefully and by the time she had sipped it, the colour had returned to her face and, with it, speech to her tongue.
'You are well rid of him, my child. Never would I have thought it possible! I have met some strange men in my time, but none as difficult to understand as this one.'
'I can't understand why he did it.' Melanie still spoke without emotion, as if she were discussing the affairs of a stranger, and though she knew that she was merely experiencing the calm before the storm, she was at least grateful that she was able to talk about it with some rationality. ‘Why did he do it?' she repeated. 'He didn't need to say he loved me. He needn't have said anything.'
'Perhaps he was carried away by the moonlight!'
'There was no moonlight when he came here yesterday morning. The whole thing doesn't make sense. We didn't just go out for a few days, Madame - he's been taking me out for weeks.'
'Perhaps he found it difficult to extricate himself.'
'Gregory?' Melanie shook her head. 'If he wanted to say good-bye he'd have done so without any feeling of guilt. Anyway, he had nothing to feel guilty about. It wasn't until he - he told me he loved me that he even kissed me.' She jumped to her feet. 'I don't believe the whole thing was a lie. I'm sure the story in the newspaper is a mistake.'
'Then why hasn't he rung to say so?'
'Perhaps he hasn't seen it yet.' Melanie hurried to the wardrobe and pulled out the first dress that came to hand.
'You arc not going to see him,' Verenskaya said behind her.
'That's exactly what I am going to do!'
'You are crazy! Where is your pride?'
'I haven't got any with Gregory. I love him and I'm going to see him.' Melanie swung round to face Verenskaya. 'If he was lying when he implied that he wanted to marry me - if it was just a game for him - he'll have to tell me so to my face.'
The outrage on Verenskaya's face gave way to unwilling admiration. 'You are growing up, little one. Once you ran from love like a frightened child, but now you are prepared to go out and fight for it. You are truly a woman.'
Roberta Leigh - My Hearts a Dancer Page 14