Melanie put a shaking hand to her face. 'I still don't understand.'
'It was because of Herbert Fenwick. He knew Lydia wanted to marry me and that was part of our bargain; he wouldn't tell my aunt that Timothy had sold him his shares, provided I agreed to become his son-in-law.' The hands on Melanie's shoulders were now gripping her so tightly that the fingers seemed to be digging into her flesh. 'You don't know what agony it's been - the tightrope I've been walking on. Each time Lydia set the date for our wedding I had to find a way of postponing it - of playing for time.' His voice lowered on a sigh. 'But that's all in the past, thank heavens. It's over and I'm free.'
Hearing his explanation, so much that Melanie had not understood before became clear, and the jigsaw-puzzle of his idiosyncratic behaviour fell into a comprehensive pattern. 'Why didn't you tell me? Why did you let me believe you didn't love me?'
'I was afraid if you knew I was being forced to marry Lydia you would have insisted on staying with me; of living in the shadows ..
'You were right,' she said soberly. 'If I had known you loved me, I would never have left you. Never!' Her voice broke. You made me suffer so much, Gregory. There were times when I didn't even want to live.'
‘What about me?' he said huskily. ‘I was playing a waiting game, stalling Lydia in the hope that I could work something out with Fenwick. I even offered to buy him out completely, but he wouldn't hear of it.'
'And if your aunt hadn't died,' Melanie forced herself to ask the question, 'would you have gone ahead and married Lydia?'
‘I doubt it. I tried to make myself believe I would, but if it had really come to the crunch, I don't think I could ever have gone through with it.'
‘You took a big gamble,' she said softly. ‘What would have happened if I had married Anton?'
That was the one fear that always haunted me. I know he loves you - that he's always wanted you—' Gregory stopped speaking and pulled her close. Is he your lover?’ he asked harshly. Tell me the truth, Melanie. I won't blame you if you were, but I've got to know the truth.'
He saw the answer in her eyes and with a groan, like a wounded animal returning to the comfort of its home, he rested his face against hers, the trembling of his body telling her how close to breaking-point he was. It was a moment entirely devoid of passion, when all that mattered was the need to be close to each other, to be unified and strengthened.
It was a long while later that they drew apart and sat together on the settee. There were so many things they had to say to each other, yet most of it seemed unnecessary; all that mattered was that they were together, now and for the future.
Yet the thought of Lydia remained with Melanie like a dark cloud, and an irrational fear made her voice her thoughts aloud. 'I don't believe she'll give you up as easily as you think. If she wanted you enough to have her father blackmail you into marrying her, she'll still put up a fight to keep you.'
Gregory shook his head. Lydia never knew the real reason why I proposed to her. She believed I loved her. That was another part of Fenwick's bargain. He swore me to secrecy.'
Jealousy cut through Melanie like a knife. 'I suppose that included playing the part to the full.'
For an instant Gregory looked uncomprehending, then he burst out laughing.
There's nothing funny about it,' Melanie said angrily.
'I'm sorry, darling.' Instantly he was contrite. 'But I was just remembering all the damn stupid excuses I used to dream up to avoid having to see her - let alone kiss her. I even took sneezing powder to make her think I had a chronic cold!'
'And you fooled her?’
'I like to think I did.'
More than ever Melanie was certain that Lydia had known of her father's hold over Gregory. For that reason alone she would have pretended to have been fooled by his excuses of a cold, realizing that to have forced him into a show of love which he did not feel might have precipitated him into rejecting the whole thing.
'Forget Lydia,' Gregory said. It's all in the past, now. My aunt's death has set me free. From now on Fenwick can do what he likes with the company. I couldn't care less. All I care about is making you my wife.'
She echoed the words on a sigh and he caught her close. But this time there was no tenderness in his hold, only a deep and urgent passion that communicated itself to her like fire.
'When will you marry me?' he asked, breathing the words against her lips.
'Marry you?' she said the words in a sigh of ecstasy. 'I can't believe it's ever going to happen.'
'It won't take me long to prove it,' he said with a slight laugh, and then there was no laughter any more, for his mouth was hard on hers and the heartache and longing of the past months disappeared, as she gave him back kiss for kiss, revelling in his strength, in the delicacy of his touch which seemed to melt her very bones.
With unusual abandonment she clung to him, desire overcoming all reticence. 'Gregory,' she pleaded. 'Darling…'
'No!' The word was loud and sudden, and he pushed her away from him and stood up. In the rose glow that came from the bedside lamp he stared at her and then, without a word, walked over to the window.
‘You're a temptress,' he said thickly, ‘but I'm damned if I'll make you mine in front of the whole Verenskaya Company!'
She laughed softly and came over to stand by his side. I'm committed to this tour, darling, but I'm sure Verenskaya will free me for a month as soon as we get home.'
'How much longer will you be here?'
Tour weeks.'
That's a lifetime!'
‘For me too.' She rested against him, giving a little shiver of pleasure which he mistook for the tremor of fatigue, because he instantly drew back and looked anxiously into her face.
‘What a selfish fool I am. You've had a strenuous first night and here I am keeping you up till all hours. You must rest!'
‘When will I see you again?’
‘For breakfast. My room is on the floor above. I just hope there's no fire escape or I might not be able to resist the temptation!'
She giggled, the mood of passion dissolving in laughter as they parted at the door.
Waking next morning, happy in the knowledge that Gregory was only a few yards away, the one flaw in Melanie's happiness was the anger and hurt she would have to face from Anton. She toyed with the idea of not telling him but knew it would be futile: one look at her face and he would know the truth.
But Melanie had not reckoned with the grapevine, and entering Verenskaya's bedroom at mid-morning, after a blissful hour with Gregory, she took one look at the old lady and Anton and realized that they both knew what had happened.
'So it's a fairy-tale ending after all,' Verenskaya said. 'Anton has just told me that Gregory arrived last night.'
Melanie looked at Anton quickly, but there was no anger or reproach on his face, only a strange calm that bespoke enormous self-control.
As though realizing what her fears had been he suddenly smiled. 'I knew I wouldn't stand a chance with you if Ransome came back, but at least if he has the woman I still have the dancer. And that's the most important part of you.'
Wisely she did not disagree with him, though she knew already that the assertion was untrue, for if it had done nothing else, the bitter parting from Gregory had made her realize that no career, however successful, could ever be sufficient compensation for a life without him.
'I suppose you have come here to ask for the day off?’ Verenskaya said abruptly.
'I hadn't, as a matter of fact,' Melanie replied, ‘but it sounds an awfully good idea.'
'Don't be late at the theatre,' Anton said, and watched unsmiling as she gave Verenskaya a quick kiss of gratitude and ran out.
She and Gregory spent an enchanted day together. He had visited New York many times before and took delight in taking her to many of the well-known and accepted tourist sights: the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State Building, Times Square, and an hour of part delight and part horrified amusement in the Guggenheim Museum.
'But there's so much more for you to see here,' he said in the taxi that was taking them to the theatre later that evening. 'Once we've got the obvious things out of the way, I'm going to show you my New York, and then there's Long Island. You'll love that, darling. Even in winter, without any leaves on the trees, it's one of the most beautiful places I know. And we can spend a week-end in Connecticut with some friends of mine. They have a beautiful farmhouse there and—'
I'm here to dance,' she interrupted, laughing. Til never get a whole free day again, and a week-end's right out of the question.'
‘Well, Sunday then. Verenskaya can't make you dance on Sunday.'
She caught his hand. 'How long can you stay?'
Until the middle of next week.'
She gave a sigh of happiness. 'That's a lifetime away.’
But all too soon the lifetime came to an end, and with an unutterable sense of depression she drove with him to Kennedy Airport and watched as he boarded the aircraft. She waited till the doors closed and the giant plane taxied out of sight to the runway, then with heavy heart she returned to the city, wondering how she would be able to bear the three long weeks until she saw him again.
Though she had known she was going to miss him, she had not realized to what depths her loneliness would take her, and neither her name up in lights nor one celebrity-packed party after another could assuage her need of him.
Slowly one day dragged after the other, with triumphant performance following triumphant performance, until at last the morning of their departure dawned. Never had Melanie been so pleased to see the back of a city as she was of New York and, as they winged their way across the Atlantic, she counted the hours until she would be in Gregory's arms.
Although she had cabled him the time of her arrival, she had asked him not to meet her at the airport, knowing that they would be besieged by photographers and not wanting him to feel he was being ignored. It would be so much better for them to meet alone at the fiat, where she could rush straight into his arms and assure herself again that the few magic days in New York had not been a dream.
Their arrival at London Airport had the hysterical acclaim normally given to victorious World Cup footballers, and they were all feeling battered and exhausted when they were at last free to drive into London. Diplomatically Verenskaya announced that she would go the theatre first and Melanie was glad that she would be able to see Gregory on her own.
It was dusk when she stepped out of the taxi in front of the Bayswater flat and she looked anxiously round for Gregory's car. It was parked directly under a lamp-post and she saw him at the wheel.
‘Darling!' she called excitedly, and ran towards him.
He got out of the car but made no move towards her and there was something so strange in his expression that fear gripped her throat, and her outstretched arms dropped to her side. ‘Darling, what's wrong?'
'Can't you guess?
Her fear grew. 'Don't talk in riddles. Tell me what's happened.' She ran to his side and clung to him. 'What is it, Gregory? Don't you love me - is that what you're trying to say?'
'I wish to heaven I could!' Their eyes met, hers full of shock, his full of bitterness. 'But even finding out what you are - what you did - can't make me stop loving you.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The shock that Melanie felt at Gregory's words robbed her of any anger and she remained staring at him in bewilderment. It was unbelievable that the man who had left her only three weeks ago - eager and adoring — should have now become this white-faced stranger with the eyes of a man in torment ‘We can't talk here,' she said haltingly. 'Come inside.'
On legs that were trembling so much she could barely walk, she led him into the flat. A vast pile of welcome home telegrams from unknown admirers was stacked in a heap on the hall table, while every occasional table in the living-room was covered with vases of flowers, each bouquet bearing a card. How willingly she would have forgone every single bloom for just one kind word from Gregory! She dropped her coat over a chair and turned and looked at him.
‘What's happened, Gregory? Why are you looking at me with such hatred?’
Silently he handed her an envelope and as she saw the front of it she started to tremble. It was from Timothy. She had received too many letters from him during their brief courtship not to recognize his handwriting. But the envelope was addressed to his mother at a hotel in Jamaica, though she noticed that the stamps on it were uncancelled and that the flap had never been sealed.
'Read it,' Gregory said. 'It will give you your answer.' Reluctantly she took out the letter and, as she saw the date on top of the page, her heart missed a beat; it had been written on the day she and Timothy had been married.
'I don't think I can bear to read it,' she said tremulously, and went to give it back. 'Can't you tell me what it says?' I'd rather you read it for yourself - again.' ‘What do you mean by saying ‘again’? I've never read it at all!'
'Don't pretend any more,' he said scornfully, 'it's too late for that!'
Cheeks burning, she bent her head to the familiar scrawl and hoped that by reading it she would get a clue as to the reason for Gregory's attitude. However the first page only contained fulsome praise about herself and it was not until she came to the second page that she began to have some understanding of what Gregory had meant.
'I hate having to tell you this,' Timothy had written, ‘but I'm afraid I've overspent my allowance again, and as you are so far away I asked Gregory to help me out. As usual all he gave me was a pious sermon - which didn't do me much good, as there was a jeweller breathing down my neck - and I didn't fancy ending up in a debtor's prison! So I decided to ask old Herbert for a loan instead. To my surprise he coughed up like a lamb. The only odd thing is that when he learned I was spending my honeymoon skiing in the Dolomites, he asked me to give him some security till I repaid him - in case I broke my neck, I suppose I Anyway, I gave him my shares in the firm to hold - that extra ten per cent that Dad left me when he died - and I'll reclaim them as soon as my new allowance comes through and I can pay him back.
‘I really am sorry that I overspent my money this quarter, but at least I can assure you I didn't lose it at the gamingtables, which I know is your one big fear. Since meeting Melanie I haven't even had the urge to bet on anything - all my time has been spent in trying to persuade her to marry me. She's a wonderful girl, Mother, and when you meet her I'm sure you'll love her..
Melanie stopped reading. ‘Poor Timothy… borrowing money to give me jewellery I never wanted.' All at once she realized the purport of the letter. ‘But this is the evidence you want! It proves Timothy didn't sell those controlling shares! Fenwick has no right to them after all.'
‘Exactly.'
If only you'd found it before,' she said. ‘Then you wouldn't have had to get engaged to Lydia.' She looked at the letter still in her hand. ‘Where did you find it?’
'I didn't. Lydia found it. Apparenly it was among her father's papers. She was looking for something in his desk and she saw it. She gave it to me at once.'
‘No doubt hoping you'd think I gave it to him.' Melanie had spoken with irony, but as she saw the expression on Gregory's face, she realized that he believed it to be true. Shock made the blood drain from her head. It was impossible! He could not believe she had given Timothy's letter to Herbert Fenwick. But everything about his behaviour since they had met tonight indicated that he did. 'So you're acting true to form,' she said scornfully. ‘I don't know what you mean.'
'I mean that you've judged me guilty without listening to anything I might say. Just the way you've always done!' 'That's not true!' He was angry now.
'It's perfectly true. When Lydia gave you that letter, did you even think for one single minute that her father might have got it some other way, or did you immediately jump to the conclusion that / had given it to him?'
'How else could he have got hold of it if you hadn't sold it to him?’
'Sold it to him!' Nausea
welled up in Melanie as she reechoed his words, and she dropped the letter on to the table. 'How dare you say a thing like that to me!' she whispered. 'I've never seen this letter before. Never!'
‘You mean you didn't find it at Timothy's flat?' A pulse was beating at the side of Gregory's forehead. 'Be careful how you answer me, Melanie. Don't forget I saw you in the lobby the day I went to the flat myself. You told me you'd been there to collect some of your things.' His finger pointed at her accusingly. 'One of the things you found was that letter.'
‘You're out of your mind! I didn't even know it existed.'
'I'll concede that point. But once you did find it you realized what it meant.'
She looked down at the letter, frowning slightly as she absorbed what Gregory had just said and trying to formulate an answer. If I had found this letter, it doesn't make sense that I'd have given it to Mr. Fenwick. After all, if what Timothy writes here is true, then the shares were still his, and as his widow they would have been mine.' She swung round and looked at Gregory. 'And they were worth money. So why should I give the letter to Mr. Fenwick?'
'Because Fenwick was holding those shares until his loan had been repaid. Don't forget Timothy borrowed fifteen thousand pounds from him. And you'd have had to repay that money before the shares reverted to you. And the one thing ybu couldn't do was to pay back the money in order to get the shares. So you went to Fenwick and made a bargain with him.'
'Go on,' she said tremulously. 'What sort of bargain?'
'I'm not sure. Perhaps he paid you to forget you'd ever found the letter.'
‘You can't believe that! It doesn't make sense!'
'Not if you look at the position the way it is now,' he admitted. 'But at the time it would have been quite logical to have sold him the letter. After all, you had no idea I was going to fall in love with you, so there were only two things you could have done: repaid Fenwick the fifteen thousand pounds Timothy had borrowed from him and got back the shares, or try to get extra money from him by promising to forget you'd ever seen the letter at all!'
Roberta Leigh - My Hearts a Dancer Page 19
