Danielle Steel - Granny Dan

“Alexei was very disappointed I wouldn't play cards with him tonight,” she said as she took off her cape. It was an odd feeling, coming home together and talking about the evening, almost as though they were married. “I didn't play cards with him,” she explained, “because I didn't want to be rude to the others.”

“You can play cards with him another time. Perhaps tomorrow, if you're both up to it. I'm afraid he will be very tired. And you?” He looked at her then with worried eyes. “How do you feel, Danina?”

Her eyes looked vibrant and alive when she answered, their brilliant blue brighter than ever. “I feel happy and wonderful, and as though I had the most beautiful evening of my life.” She stood looking at him with a small smile, as he walked slowly toward her. He still had his coat on.

“I've never known anyone like you,” he said softly, as he stood directly in front of her, looking down at her, and for that one moment, he forgot entirely who she was. She was not a prima ballerina, or even his patient. She was his friend, a woman he was dazzled by, whom he had come to love, without ever expecting something like that to happen. “You are truly extraordinary,” he said in a whisper, and then he took her breath away with his next words, as her eyes widened in amazement. “Danina … I love you. …” And without waiting for an answer from her, he bent gently toward her and kissed her. He held her in his arms, and she was startled to realize how powerful he was, and without thinking, she held him close to her and kissed him in answer. But within an instant, she had pulled away from him and was looking up at him in terror. What had they done? What would they do now? It would spoil everything if they did this.

“I … I don't … we can't … we must not, Nikolai. … I don't know how that happened….” There were tears of distress in her eyes as he took her hands in his own. He was the first man she had ever kissed, or who had kissed her. At nineteen, he had opened a door for her that had never been opened to her before, and she had no idea what to do now.

“I know exactly how it happened, Danina,” he said, sounding calmer than he felt. As he looked at her, his heart was pounding. And now he was terrified to lose her. Perhaps with one brave gesture he had driven her away from him forever, and the prospect of that filled him with terror. Whatever happened now, he could not lose her. “I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. I never thought you would live through the night. But I was haunted by you for all those days, you were an illusion of grace and beauty, an injured butterfly I thought would not be spared. But I had no idea who you were, I knew nothing of you … until now … until you came here, and we have sat talking every day. And now I love everything about you, your mind, your spirit, your kind heart…. Danina, I cannot live without you.” It was a plea for clemency as well as a gift he gave her, and she knew it.

“But Nikolai, you are married,” she said, with tears in her eyes, and a look of sorrow. “We cannot do this. We must not … we must forget it….”

“I am not married, except in name. You know that, even from the little I have told you. Surely, you must have sensed it. I have never done anything like this before. … I swear it … you are the first woman I have ever loved. I'm not sure Marie and I ever loved each other. Not like this. And certainly not now. Danina, I swear to you … she hates me.”

“Perhaps you're wrong, perhaps you do not truly understand her feelings, or her unhappi-ness being here in Russia. Perhaps you should move to England with her.” She was pacing now, and looking agitated and distraught, and he was more than ever afraid to lose her. And then she turned to him, and said the words he feared the most, other than if she had said she didn't love him. But the moment she kissed him, he knew she did. She felt the same way that he did, although she was deathly afraid to admit it. “I must go back to St. Petersburg. You must let me. I cannot stay here.”

“You can't go back. You're not strong enough to live in that freezing barracks, or to dance again. You will not be well enough for months, you'll fall ill again. It could be disastrous for you.” He was near tears as he said it. “I beg you, don't leave here.” He couldn't bear the thought of her being far away now.

“I cannot be near you … we will both know now that we carry in our hearts a terrible secret, a dreadful sin, for which we will be punished.”

“I have already lived my punishment for fifteen years. You cannot condemn me to that life forever.”

“What are you saying to me?” Her eyes leapt and she covered her mouth with her hands, as though in horror at what he was proposing.

“I am saying I will do anything for you. I will leave my wife, my family…. Danina, I will do anything to be with you.”

“You must not do that, or even say it. I can't bear thinking of your doing something so terrible…. Nikolai, think of your children!” She was in tears as she said it, but so was he when he answered.

“I have thought of them a thousand times, every day, ever since I met you. But they are not babies anymore. They are twelve and fourteen, in a few years they will be grown men, and I cannot live with a woman I cannot bear for the rest of my life in their honor … nor forsake the only woman I have ever loved. Danina, don't run away, please … stay here with me … we will talk about it. … I will not do anything you don't want me to do. I promise.”

“Then you must not speak of this again. Ever. We must both forget you ever said it, if we can. I cannot be anything more to you than I am. Your life is here, with the Czar, and your family. Mine is at the ballet. I cannot give myself to you, I have no life to give you. My life belongs to the ballet, until I am too old to dance, and then I will give it to the children, like Madame Mark ova.”

“Are you telling me you must be a nun to be a dancer?” It was the first he had heard of it, although he knew she had never been in love, or been close to men, because she had said so in one of their many conversations.

“Madame Mark ova says that an impure life, a life of men, is distracting. One cannot be a great dancer if one wants to be a harlot.” She said it bluntly and he looked startled.

“I was hardly suggesting you be a harlot, Danina. I was telling you I love you, and want to marry you, if Marie will divorce me.”

“And I'm telling you I can't do it. I belong at the ballet. It is my life, it is all I know, it is what I was born to. And I will not let you destroy your life for me.”

“You were born to love, and be loved, as we all were, and to be surrounded by a husband and children who love you, not to dance in drafty halls, breaking your back and risking your health until you die, or are too old and crippled to serve any longer. You deserve more than that, and I want to give it to you.”

“But you cannot,” she said, sounding distressed again. “You don't have it to give. And what if Marie would not agree to divorce you?”

“She would be happy to go back to England. She would gladly pay for her freedom by agreeing to divorce me.”

“And the scandal? The Czar could no longer have you near his family, nor should he. You would be an outcast, a disgrace. I will not let you do that. You must forget me.” The tears ran down her face as she said it.

“I will forget everything we said tonight,” he said with difficulty, “if you promise you will stay here. I will never mention it again. You have my solemn promise.” A promise it nearly killed him to offer.

“All right.” She sighed deeply and turned her back to him, her head bowed, as he watched her, aching to put his arms around her, but he knew he couldn't. She looked desperately unhappy, but not nearly as unhappy as he was. “I'll think about staying,” was all she said, and she did not turn around again to look at him. She couldn't. She was still crying. “You must go now.” He could not see her face as she said it, only the straight young back, and the proud tilt of her head, and the shining dark hair cascading past her shoulders. And he longed to touch it, and hold her.