“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
The 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.