Alone with Gregory, Melanie fought down her desire to rim from the room. Only by remaining calm could she make him believe that he no longer had the power to hurt her. Yet having to look up at him put her at a disadvantage, and pushing aside the blanket she stood up. It was not until she heard his gasp that she remembered she was wearing a chiffon negligee, the pink folds barely hiding the pearly gleam of her body. With shaking limbs she retreated behind the settee, aware that though she was now partly concealed by its brocaded back, her shoulders and breasts were still tantalizingly visible.
'There's no need for you to concern yourself about me,' she reiterated breathlessly. 'I was rather silly and worked too hard. That's all.'
'I've been reading a lot about you,' he said abruptly. 'Whenever we part you always become more successful.'
'All the more reason for you not to worry about me!' she rejoined. 'After all, seeing it in terms of my career, I owe you a lot. Without you, I might still have been in the corps de ballet!'
He gave a smile that held no mirth. 'Partings seem to improve my career too. Since our - since our last parting I've doubled my profits.'
'Then we can both be grateful to each other.' She put her hand to her throat, afraid that he would see the pulse beating there. 'And now you really must go. I'm expecting someone and I must change.'
'I have something to tell you first.' He took a step towards her. 'I love you, Melanie. No matter what happens in the future, I want you to know I love you.'
His look was so intense that she turned away from it. Coming after her meeting with Lydia, his admission did not surprise her. Never a man to give his feelings lightly, she had not expected him to stop loving her any more quickly than she had been able to stop loving him. Yet hearing him admit it himself, in no way abated her hurt or anger.
'Was it love or conscience that brought you here today?' she asked. 'Did you envisage comforting me as I lay dying?'
'Don't!' In a gesture of weariness which she had never seen from him before, he lowered his head into his hands. These last months have been a nightmare… there hasn't been a day or night when I've stopped thinking about you. No matter what I did - how hard I worked - you were always in my mind. Wherever I turned I saw your face… heard your voice…'
'You haven't been trying hard enough,' she said coldly. 'Give yourself a little more time. I'm sure you'll eventually be able to forget me. Just keep reminding yourself how wicked I am.'
'Don't say that! I never thought you were wicked. Unthinking and childish perhaps - but only because of your loyalty to Verenskaya. Money was never important to you.'
'You didn't always think that,' she reminded him. 'You once accused me of being a gold-digger.'
'That was the first time we met,' he said with something of his old irritation. 'You can't count that. I know you better now.'
'Better?’ she retorted. That's an empty word, Gregory. You ‘till think I sold Timothy's letter. That's one accusation you aren't so ready to take back.' The pallor of his face increased, but she was too angry to care. You shouldn't have come here. Nothing's changed and you're just making it difficult for both of us. I'm the same person I was when you last saw me - and you didn't believe I was unthinking and childish then. If I remember correctly, I was supposed to be treacherous, deceitful and money-grabbing I ‘
'That isn't true. I don't believe that any more.' Seeing her look of disbelief, he took a step towards her and then stopped. 'I know if's hard for you to understand what I'm saying, but at least hear me out Give me a chance to explain.' Momentarily he stopped and then continued again, 'When I saw you that night, I was out of my mind with jealousy. Lydia had given me the letter the day before and I'd been up all night thinking about it. I went over the facts so many times that nothing made sense any more.'
Abruptly he stopped speaking and walked over to the window.
It was a blind, involuntary movement and he did not appear to notice the chair in his way nor hear it when it fell to the floor.
‘When I remember what I said to you,' he went on, his voice so low that she had difficulty in hearing it, 'I don't blame you for not wanting to see me again. But I couldn't go on like this. I had to come here. Learning that you were ill was just an excuse. I was coming anyway.' He half turned but still did not look at her. ‘Without you my whole life is a waste of time. Nothing is important to me; success, power, money don't mean a thing if I can't share it with you.' He turned fully and looked into her face. 'Do you understand what I'm trying to say?'
‘Yes,' she whispered.
As he heard the word, he moved quickly towards her, but she held out her hands to ward him off. ‘No! Stay where you are!'
'But I love you.' His voice was desperate. 'I know I should have come here sooner, but I couldn't. I kept remembering the things I said to you and I was afraid that you'd turn me away… afraid that if we met again and you didn't forgive me…'
'I do forgive you,' she said softly, 'but it doesn't make any difference to the future.'
'Why?
Though the question was a simple one, it cost all her effort to answer it 'Because nothing's changed,' she went on 'I still think that trust is the most important thing in the world.'
'But I do trust you. Haven't you understood what I've been saying?' Ignoring that her hands were still outstretched to keep him away, he took another step forward so that they were only separated by the settee. ‘Everything I said to you that night was wrong. That's what I came here to tell you. I don't believe you gave that letter to Fenwick and I don't even believe you knew about it.'
The unexpectedness of his statement took her by surprise and she fell back a step. ‘Why?' she asked. 'Why have you changed your mind now?’
Once again he hesitated as though finding it difficult to put his thoughts into words. 'I've got to make you understand,' he muttered.
He came around the side of the settee, the swift movement rippling the folds of chiffon around her. For an instant he glanced at her body, then his eyes went back to her face, looking deep into her own eyes as though willing her to. believe what he was saying.
'Try and put yourself in my place that night,' he repeated. ‘We'd been parted for three weeks and every moment had been like a lifetime. I kept thinking of you with Anton - worrying that he was trying to part us - that he'd use his influence over you to—'
'He didn't have any influence over me,' she interrupted. ‘You never had any reason to be jealous of him.'
'Jealousy doesn't need a reason. That's something you couldn't understand. You'd grown up in the Company and it was part of your life. I knew that and I was afraid that when it came to the final decision, you'd choose your career instead of me. And then Lydia gave me that letter.' He stopped speaking, his breath so heavy that it was a tangible sound in the room, an indication of the depth of his feelings. 'When I saw it,' he went on, 'I must have lost my mind. All I could think about was
Anton. The way he danced with you on the stage… the way he held you in his arms…'
'But that's only on the stage,' she said. 'It was never real.'
'I know, but when I got that letter, I wasn't in a fit state to ink properly. The only excuse I can give you for what I said that if I hadn't loved you so much, I wouldn't have judged you so harshly. You were the first woman I've ever asked to be my wife. The first woman with whom I wanted to share my life… I suppose I was scared.'
'Scared?' she echoed.
He nodded. 'Of knowing that without you I had nothing.' He came even closer so that their bodies were almost touching. 'Anton tried to tell me the truth that night, but I didn't believe him. I want to make you understand why. To make you believe that if it happened now, I wouldn't need anyone to tell me you were innocent. I'd know it for myself. You could never do ‘ anything that was underhand, no matter what was at stake.' He put up a tentative hand and then dropped it to his side. 'I'm not asking you for anything, Melanie. I don't deserve it All I want is to be near you… to take care of you.'
'I never thought I'd ever hear you say that,' she said tremulously. 'Sometimes I used to think you'd come back and say you'd forgiven me, but I didn't think you'd ever say I was innocent.'
'Why should you have thought it?' Gregory's voice was jerky and low. 'What proof have I ever given you that I could show any sympathy or kindness to you? From the first moment I met you, I—'
'Don't malign yourself too much.' There was a faint hint of laughter in her voice and hearing it, the anguish on his face gave way to a look of wonderment.
'Can you forgive me, Melanie? Do you think that in time we'd-'
'Not in time,' she interrupted, 'but now!
With a swift movement she put her arms around his neck and leaned against him, her body trembling no less than his, her heart beating as fast.
'I love you so much,' he said huskily. 'I'll spend the rest of my life proving it.'
'Just hold me - that's all the proof I need.'
Her face turned up to his and his mouth closed over her own. No more words were necessary, for everything that had to be said was expressed in his touch and her own answering response.
Time passed without either of them being aware of it, and only the sudden opening of the door made Melanie draw back from Gregory's hold. Over his shoulder she saw Anton and colour flamed into her cheeks. But Anton did not look at her and his eyes, mocking and sharp, fixed themselves on Gregory.
'One more grand reconciliation?' he jeered. ‘How long is it for this time?'
'For the rest of my life.'
There was a soberness in Gregory's reply that made Anton momentarily close his eyes, and watching the two men, Melanie knew that the hope of one had brought death of hope for the other. Realizing what Anton must be experiencing, she felt an overwhelming sense of sadness, but she knew better than to give any indication of it, and she remained silent, watching as he opened his eyes again and looked mockingly from her to Gregory.
'Does your being here mean that you have forgiven Melanie for her behaviour? Or have you suddenly found the sense to realize you'd been completely wrong?’
'I don't believe she knew anything about the letter.'
Well, that's a step forward,' Anton said brightly. 'You can go to the top of the class.' Hands in his pockets he teetered slowly forwards and backwards on his heels. When Melanie went back to the flat to get her own love letters, I went with her. I found the letter Timothy had written and I was the one who gave it to Fenwick.'
'I'd already deduced that,' Gregory said.
'It took you long enough.'
'Don't talk about it any more,' Melanie interrupted. 'It's over.'
'It may be over for you, my sweet,' Anton replied, ‘but there are still several things that have to be ironed out between Ransome and myself.' He looked at Gregory. 'I am referring to the Company. I can't see you letting Melanie be my partner any more. Not that I blame you.'
'Don't jump to conclusions,' Gregory intervened. 'As long as Melanie goes on dancing, I know she'll want to stay with Verenskaya. And as you're part of the Company…'
'You mean you'll let her continue as my partner?'
'Yes.' Gregory turned and looked at Melanie, his eyes so full of love that she caught his hand and went on holding it as he turned back to Anton. 'If you can accept the fact that Melanie Will be my wife, I can accept her continuing to dance with you.'
'Anton's pale brows rose; an inimitable puckish movement Which Melanie knew hid how deeply he was feeling. 'If you hadn't taken Melanie from me, I could almost like you, Ransome,' he said, and walked to the door. 'But this time make her happy. If you leave her again, I'll do my best to see you never get her back!'
'God willing, I intend to spend the rest of my life with her,' Gregory replied, and remained facing the door until Anton had closed it behind him. Only then did he turn and draw Melanie close again.
‘I can't believe we're together,' he whispered. 'At night I used to dream you were in my arms and then I'd wake up and find myself alone.'
'I know,' she whispered. 'It was the same with me.'
‘What a fool I was!' His breath was warm on her cheek. 'But now we're not going to waste any more time. I've got a special licence in my pocket and we'll get married at once.'
Startled, she lifted her head, and seeing the look on her face, he reddened with embarrassment. 'Yes,' he admitted. 'I sound like that damn fool Armand, but I came here determined to marry you even if—'
'Even if I were dying?' She gave a little giggle which turned into a sob. 'Oh, Gregory, what a waste of time it's all been.'
'A waste of time for you, my darling,' he said, ‘because all it did was to make you unhappy. But at least it's taught me not to jump to conclusions.'
'You paid dearly for the lesson,' she said, and touched the silver hair at his temples.
'It was cheap at the price,' he replied and, catching her hand, pressed his lips against it. Then he dropped her hand and stepped away from her. 'If you feel well enough to get dressed,' he said casually, 'we can go to the register office now.'
'Today?' she gasped.
His eyes moved down her body and she flushed the same pink as the chiffon that barely covered her.
'I'm human, you know,' he said huskily, 'and I can only fight temptation for so long.'
'Then I'd better get dressed,' she said quickly, 'so we can make it legal!’
‘What a pity,' he replied, and then added quickly: 'About getting dressed, I mean. It will be for such a short time!'
Laughter overcame her embarrassment and, giving him a swift kiss, she ran past him to the door, suddenly full of vitality. But on the threshold she paused and looked back at him. 'I can't believe it's really happening, Gregory. That I'm going to be your wife at last'
'My wife for ever,' he replied. 'Hurry, darling. I'm waiting.'
Roberta Leigh - My Hearts a Dancer Page 22
