looked at her wistfully. 'Do you find me a tyrant? My direction of your life is entirely for your own good, you know, and anything you want, you've only to ask me for it. Is there anything you want?'
She nearly said, a holiday from skating, but bit the words back in time. She knew he would never permit that until she had proved herself, and to ask for it would betray her lack of enthusiasm.
'You've provided for all my needs, Daddy,' she said gently.
'You don't seem to care for jewels, but would you like a diamond bracelet?'
'Not yet, Daddy.' She shivered slightly; if he started giving her diamonds they would only add to her chains. 'Keep it for some occasion when I ... when I ...' she swallowed, 'win something worth while.'
'You'll have the lot then, necklace, bracelet and earrings.'
'Yes, Daddy, thank you.'
'What's the matter, Sonya? Is it that you don't like this Swedish ace? I wouldn't force him on you, you need only say a few polite words and I don't suppose he'll stop long.'
'No, I don't like him,' she admitted, 'but I can put up with him for one evening to please you.'
'Good girl.' He glanced at the clock. 'You'd better be getting to bed, you need all your rest.'
'I suppose so.'
She walked to the window and drew aside the curtain to look out. Moonlight washed the square of garden behind the house, surrounded by trees and bushes to ensure privacy. The dahlias, chrysanthemums and Michaelmas daisies were still in bloom, ghostly flowers, their colour drained from them in the silver light. At the club they would be making whoopee in honour of Sven Petersen. He would not be sent to bed like a child. Eliot watched her with pride, her slim, supple figure, her graceful pose outlined against the curtain.
'It's such a lovely night, it seems a shame to go to bed,' she remarked.
'What's moonlight without a Romeo?' he asked mockingly, then added with a touch of anxiety, 'You haven't found a Romeo, have you, darling?'
Sonya thought of Derek, but he did not answer to that description. She had had her girlish fantasies, inspired by her reading, and her imaginary heroes were always tall and dark with melting black eyes, not narrow blue ones with a derisive glint. Why did she have to recall Sven Petersen? She turned away from the window, letting the curtain fall.
'I haven't met one yet.'
'Win your gold medal first,' he bade her. 'There's plenty of time for other things—you're not nineteen yet, and I couldn't bear to lose you.'
'You'll never do that,' she assured him steadfastly, as she stopped to kiss him goodnight.
Tessa leaped on the bed, pushing between them.
'She's jealous, even of you,' Eliot laughed. He laid his hand on the dog's head.
Sonya went to her lonely bed leaving them together. She had not even a dog to share her solitude.
CHAPTER THREE
Sven did not ring up; it was unnecessary, for when Sonya went to the club next morning she found he was there on the private rink, skating with Thomasina Reed, and Jan van Goort was watching them intently. Sonya became quite unreasonably annoyed. The rink was reserved for her at that hour and Jan was her trainer. Sven, because he was a visitor, might be excused for using it, but Thomasina well knew she had no right to be there at all. She had put on her skates in readiness for her lesson, and she joined Jan at the barrier feeling peeved. Sven and his partner were using all the ice. Nor was she any better pleased when Jan said:
'Watch this, they are good.'
The pair embarked upon an elaborate sequence of jumps and spins. Sonya had never seen Thomasina skate so well; Sven seemed to have inspired her. Naturally they did not synchronise completely, but they were making a very good effort to do so. Thomasina looked lovely, wearing a dark cat-suit which clung to her beautiful body with her golden hair loose upon her shoulders.
'Ach, see, he makes her do whatever he wants,' Jan said wonderingly, as the couple did a spiral. 'Yet he has not skated with her before.'
Sonya
She nearly said, a holiday from skating, but bit the words back in time. She knew he would never permit that until she had proved herself, and to ask for it would betray her lack of enthusiasm.
'You've provided for all my needs, Daddy,' she said gently.
'You don't seem to care for jewels, but would you like a diamond bracelet?'
'Not yet, Daddy.' She shivered slightly; if he started giving her diamonds they would only add to her chains. 'Keep it for some occasion when I ... when I ...' she swallowed, 'win something worth while.'
'You'll have the lot then, necklace, bracelet and earrings.'
'Yes, Daddy, thank you.'
'What's the matter, Sonya? Is it that you don't like this Swedish ace? I wouldn't force him on you, you need only say a few polite words and I don't suppose he'll stop long.'
'No, I don't like him,' she admitted, 'but I can put up with him for one evening to please you.'
'Good girl.' He glanced at the clock. 'You'd better be getting to bed, you need all your rest.'
'I suppose so.'
She walked to the window and drew aside the curtain to look out. Moonlight washed the square of garden behind the house, surrounded by trees and bushes to ensure privacy. The dahlias, chrysanthemums and Michaelmas daisies were still in bloom, ghostly flowers, their colour drained from them in the silver light. At the club they would be making whoopee in honour of Sven Petersen. He would not be sent to bed like a child. Eliot watched her with pride, her slim, supple figure, her graceful pose outlined against the curtain.
'It's such a lovely night, it seems a shame to go to bed,' she remarked.
'What's moonlight without a Romeo?' he asked mockingly, then added with a touch of anxiety, 'You haven't found a Romeo, have you, darling?'
Sonya thought of Derek, but he did not answer to that description. She had had her girlish fantasies, inspired by her reading, and her imaginary heroes were always tall and dark with melting black eyes, not narrow blue ones with a derisive glint. Why did she have to recall Sven Petersen? She turned away from the window, letting the curtain fall.
'I haven't met one yet.'
'Win your gold medal first,' he bade her. 'There's plenty of time for other things—you're not nineteen yet, and I couldn't bear to lose you.'
'You'll never do that,' she assured him steadfastly, as she stopped to kiss him goodnight.
Tessa leaped on the bed, pushing between them.
'She's jealous, even of you,' Eliot laughed. He laid his hand on the dog's head.
Sonya went to her lonely bed leaving them together. She had not even a dog to share her solitude.
CHAPTER THREE
Sven did not ring up; it was unnecessary, for when Sonya went to the club next morning she found he was there on the private rink, skating with Thomasina Reed, and Jan van Goort was watching them intently. Sonya became quite unreasonably annoyed. The rink was reserved for her at that hour and Jan was her trainer. Sven, because he was a visitor, might be excused for using it, but Thomasina well knew she had no right to be there at all. She had put on her skates in readiness for her lesson, and she joined Jan at the barrier feeling peeved. Sven and his partner were using all the ice. Nor was she any better pleased when Jan said:
'Watch this, they are good.'
The pair embarked upon an elaborate sequence of jumps and spins. Sonya had never seen Thomasina skate so well; Sven seemed to have inspired her. Naturally they did not synchronise completely, but they were making a very good effort to do so. Thomasina looked lovely, wearing a dark cat-suit which clung to her beautiful body with her golden hair loose upon her shoulders.
'Ach, see, he makes her do whatever he wants,' Jan said wonderingly, as the couple did a spiral. 'Yet he has not skated with her before.'
Sonya
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