Danielle Steel: Granny Dan

They had picnics every afternoon, went on long walks, rowed boats and swam, and Danina felt like a child again, as she played the old familiar games with Alexei. His health had been frail that year, and he didn't look well, but surrounded by his family and the people he loved, he seemed happy to be with them.

Nikolai tried to speak to her of Vermont, but she was vague when she answered now. She had been given important roles in every ballet they were doing that year. Madame Markova knew exactly how to keep her in St. Petersburg. And Danina and Nikolai had finally agreed not to discuss Vermont again until Christmas, at least until the end of the first part of her season. It was an agreement that pained Nikolai to make, but he did so for her sake.

It turned out to be a blessing that he never left, when his youngest son came down with typhoid in September, and nearly died. And it took all of Nikolai's expertise, and that of Dr. Botkin, to save him. Danina was terrified for the boy, and sent Nikolai letters daily, worrying about the child, and aching for Nikolai's terror as a father, knowing how much he loved his children. It would have been disastrous, she told herself, if they'd been in Vermont and the boy had been ill, or worse. Nikolai would never have forgiven himself, or her, for the tragedy, and would always have blamed himself. And it only made her more certain than she had ever been that it would have been wrong for them to run away to America. There were too many people they loved here, and too many obligations that could not be ignored or abandoned.

Despite her illness of the past year, her dancing had improved even beyond where it had been before. Whenever she danced, people talked about her for days, and her name was known now all over Russia. She was in fact the greatest young ballerina of her day. Nikolai was desperately proud of her, and more in love with her than ever. He came to her performances whenever he could, and in November met her father and one of her brothers. There were only two left now, and the other had been recently injured, but was in Moscow, recovering well.

Her father and brother had no idea who Nikolai was to her or how much she loved him, but the three men seemed to enjoy meeting each other. Nikolai wished them luck when they left, and congratulated the colonel on his very talented and remarkable daughter, and the elderly colonel beamed proudly at her. It was easy to see how much he loved her, and he had always known that bringing her to the ballet as a child had been the perfect answer for her. He fully anticipated her being there forever, and it never dawned on him that she was considering leaving it one day.

And when at last Christmas came, Danina couldn't wait to go to Tsarskoe Selo to stay with Nikolai in the little cottage that had begun to seem like their own. It would have been so simple for them if living there could have been a possible solution for them, but it wasn't. They could only be together, on borrowed time, for a few days, or weeks, now and then.

She attended the Czar's Christmas Dance with him. They did not give the grand balls they had before the war, but nonetheless managed to invite over a hundred friends.

Danina shone like a bright star in a gown the Czarina had given her as a gift. It was red velvet trimmed in white ermine, and she looked every bit as regal in it as the Czarina did in hers. Guests all over the room were commenting on how beautiful she was, how elegant, how talented, how gracious, and Nikolai beamed like a handsome prince as he stood beside her, holding her hand.

“I had fun tonight, didn't you?” She smiled as they rode back to the cottage after the party in his sled. They were to have lunch at the palace again the next day. It was a life she loved sharing with him, and she felt almost married to him, standing at his side at the dance. They had been together for nearly two years.

The only thing that had marred the evening at all were the small groups here and there, talking quietly about the echoed rumors of revolution. It seemed absurd, yet the unrest among the populace was exploding regularly now in the cities, and the Czar was still refusing to control it. He said that people had a right to express themselves, and it was good for them to let off steam. But there had been several riots in Moscow recently, and the army was growing increasingly worried. Her father and brother had mentioned it the last time they met.

Danina and Nikolai were talking about it as they walked into the cottage, and this time he admitted to her that he was slowly getting worried about the state of their world.

“I think it's a much greater problem than most of us realize,” he said with a worried frown. “And I think the Czar is being naive in refusing to stop them.” Or perhaps he couldn't. He had so many other things to worry about with the war, and the tremendous losses they had sustained in Poland and Galicia, riots in Moscow seemed insignificant compared to the war and what it had already cost them in men.

“The idea of a revolution seems so extreme,” Danina said quietly. “I can't even imagine something like that here. What would it mean?”

“Who knows? Maybe not much. Probably nothing. It's a few malcontents making noise. They may burn some houses, steal some horses and jewels, give the rich a spanking, and go back to the way things were. Probably nothing more serious than that. Russia is too big and too powerful to ever change. Although it could make life unpleasant for a while, and dangerous for the Czar and his family. Fortunately they're well protected.”

“If anything happens,” she admonished him, as he helped her take off her gown in their bedroom, “I want you to be careful.” She realized full well that it could be dangerous for him here.

“There is a simple solution to that problem,” he said, broaching the subject of Vermont again. He had promised not to ask her about it again until Christmas, and now the time had come again. And he had given it even more thought since they'd last discussed it in September. It was a recurring theme with Nikolai, and he still hoped to convince her of the wisdom of his plan.

“What solution?” she asked innocently, as she took off her earrings. He had just given them to her, and she loved them. They were pearls with tiny rubies hanging just beneath them, and they looked lovely on her.

“Vermont,” he reminded her. “There are no revolutions in America. They don't have a war on their doorstep. We could be happy there, Danina, and you know it.” She was running out of excuses not to discuss it with him, and she wanted to be with him, but there never seemed to be a time when she felt ready to leave the ballet, and do something quite so drastic as all that. They were comfortable with the life they shared, and perhaps one day his wife would agree to a divorce.

“Maybe one day,” she said wistfully. She wanted to be brave enough to go with him, and yet at the same time she still couldn't imagine abandoning their familiar world. She had an equal amount of elements pulling at her from both directions. Madame Markova and the ballet, and Nikolai and all he promised her. A shared life together in a new land, and the ballet, which was her obligation, her duty, her life.

“You told me you would talk to me about it again at Christmas,” he said sadly. He was beginning to fear she would never leave the ballet, and they would never be able to have more than they had now, unless his wife died, or changed her mind, or he inherited a great deal of money, none of which was likely. All she could be here was his mistress, and they could only live together a few weeks a year, unless she left the ballet. But even then, he couldn't have housed her, and they both knew that. Vermont was the only hope they had of being together and starting a new life. But the sacrifices required of each of them still made her shy away from any decision.