Star Sapphire: Love and wild adventure in Regency England

by Janet Louise Roberts

  The dance ended, and she was sorry. He put her hand on his arm, and they strolled slowly back to her uncle. She noted that her uncle was staring at them keenly, watching them shrewdly. She smiled at him.

  “You are most fond of your uncle,” said Lord Fairley, as a statement.

  “Oh, yes, sir! You see, when my parents died, he took me in and treated me as a daughter. I owe him all,” she said simply.

  “All?” he repeated.

  “Yes, he raised me, taught me languages and mathematics, saw to it that I was trained in jewellery-making when I showed signs of talent. He is — very dear to me.”

  “I understand,” he said.

  “You have — recently lost your father, I believe,” she dared to say. “May I express my sympathy?”

  He bowed, but his eyes turned cold again, and his mouth had a briefly bitter downturn to it. She was curious. “Thank you, Miss Goldfine, you are most kind.”

  He returned her to her uncle, staying to talk for a few minutes. Sonia was left out of the conversation, but at least she could gaze at his face, at the handsome profile turned to her, at the bright deep blue of his eyes.

  He finally bowed, spoke to her, and departed. She sighed, and turned back to her uncle.

  “I believe we can leave now, if you are weary,” said her uncle, her arm in his. His dimming eyes gleamed in satisfaction. “Have you enjoyed your first grand ball, my dear?”

  “Oh, it was splendid,” she said truthfully. They made their way across the floor to the doorway, stopping to speak to their host and hostess. The duchess stared more at Sonia’s jewels than at Sonia herself, as she accepted their gratitude for the evening’s pleasure.

  “She will be knocking at your door,” said Meyer, in the carriage. “She will want some jewels like yours,” and he chuckled and rubbed his hands together. “Ah, this was a fine evening, a fine evening.”

  Sonia smiled at him through the dimness, but her suspicions were confirmed. He had wanted to show off what she could do with jewellery, to help her get more commissions. Dear Uncle, how solicitous and thoughtful he was for her! But her thoughts strayed to her last partner, the tall handsome ex-colonel, Lord Fairley.

  She leaned back into the corner of the luxurious velvet upholstered carriage, and closed her eyes, as though tired. But with the soft silk cloak wrapped about her, she hugged the memory of the last dance.

  How handsome he was, how kind. And he liked music and plays, just as she did. She dreamed, hopelessly, of just such a young man coming to visit her at home, talking with her of the matters they both enjoyed. Courting her, wanting to marry her.

  Sonia had never met anyone she wanted to marry. Meyer had not insisted; he knew how grief-stricken she had been at the death of her parents. She had seemed indifferent to everyone but her uncle and her cousins, not wanting to become involved with anyone again. Her emotions were in cold storage, frozen inside herself. The men she met, she had remained aloof from, and from any idea of marriage. She thought they mentally calculated how much she was worth — for her father had left her everything, and she would inherit one third of her uncle’s wealth. She was talented, earning money from the jewellery , and did not need to marry, she had thought.

  But tonight, for the first time, Sonia thought how it would be, should the strong arm of a fine young man hold her up, and a handsome face smile down into hers, and blue eyes light up at words from her. It was an impossible dream — but she hugged it to her nevertheless.

  CHAPTER 2

  Sonia rose early each morning, eager to get to work on her designs. She had many commissions now, and she enjoyed working on them. Most of the ladies did not seem to mind how long she took, for the designs were so exquisite that they could wear them proudly for years.

  Sometimes the high-born ladies brought their family jewels and asked Sonia to design new settings for them. That was a challenge, to take out the age-old gems, study them, and set them into new slim delicate designs.

  She also had a rich stock of gems from all over the world, some in the rough, some smoothed by jewellers in London for her. When she found a new gem of special beauty, she would study it for weeks, even months, thinking of an appropriate setting for it.

  She ate her breakfast, drank some coffee absently. Her uncle had already gone to the City to his banking establishment. He worked long and hard, returning home in the evenings for their early dinner. Sometimes she read to him, from his favourite philosophers and historians, and they usually retired early. That was their routine, and she had settled into it after her cousins had married and left for their own homes.

  This large, handsome townhouse actually belonged to Sonia. Her father had bought it, but had not lived long enough to enjoy it. He had brought her from Vienna, with jewels sewn into their clothing, fleeing in the night from the beautiful city which had become hateful to them.

  Uncle Meyer had moved his family into this larger house, and after his younger son, Abner, had married, he had given his own house to the boy. And now Bettina complained that it was not big enough for their growing family! Sonia smiled and sighed. One could give Bettina the moon, and she would complain that someone else had more stars than she.

  Sonia went to her workroom after finishing her coffee that morning. She was thinking about the ball, the splendid gems. From looking at the glorious assembly, one would think no one else in London needed another gem. But she was wise enough in the ways of the world to know that the more jewellery some women had, the more one wanted.

  Flowers soothed the emotions, gentled them. One could walk in a garden without wishing to pluck every glorious bloom. However, jewels excited envy and admiration, and one wanted more and more.

  Sonia sat down at her work table and drew her latest sketches to her. She unlocked a drawer and took out the tray of jewels on which she was working. A countess wanted new settings for her emeralds, and it was a difficult task. She was a demanding woman. Sonia had had to stand by while two men had counted solemnly every gem in the set, and written on paper how many gems there were, and of what size and weight. It had been humiliating; usually it was more tactfully handled. The countess had watched every move they made.

  Still — the emeralds were lovely, and a pleasure to work with. It was not their fault that their present owner was unpleasant and greedy, with a thin scarlet mouth and plucked eyebrows. Sonia turned over several of the gems gently with her tweezers and studied the largest ones.

  A pendant, with a slim chain of gold, the small emeralds set in the chain. A brooch, with this fine stone in the centre, perhaps in a flower design — no, for that woman, something unusual — a fish? Or a snake? She smiled at her fancies. She must look at the family crest again. Perhaps she could simplify that design, and make a charming brooch of the crest. A dragon, with a slim gold horn, and jewelled eyes.

  She drew and sketched for a long time that morning. Tiring of one project, she locked it away, and took out some rough jewels her uncle had purchased for her. She spread those out on velvet, and studied them closely through her jeweller’s glass. Some were very splendid — her uncle had good buyers. Sonia must take over that part of the work soon, for her uncle was busy, and growing older and more weary. It was not fair to have him do this, also. She must begin to work more with the merchants.

  Sonia had lunch on a tray at her workbench, to her abigail’s silent disapproval. Early in the afternoon, Leah returned to her, a triumphant gleam in her dark eyes.

  “Now, you must stop working, Miss Sonia! Your cousin has come to call, and his good wife.”

  “Abner?” sighed Sonia, thinking the worst. Abner used to be so happy and carefree. Now his nagging wife had pulled him down to her level. All was gloom and doom; they had only complaints, and loved to pour out their vials of poison on everyone, making them as miserable as themselves.

  “No, no, it is Mr Jacob,” Leah was quick to reassure her. “I have put them in the drawing room, and tea will be served.”

  “Oh, splendid! I have n
ot seen them for a week.” Sonia locked away the gems and took off her light muslin apron. She tied her thick hair, and without a look into the mirror she hurried to the drawing room.

  Jacob stood up to greet her, his grin broad. “Well, Sonia, we must pull you from your work! Father says you work too hard, and Leah is scolding us for not making you go out to dine with us.”

  “She is always scolding me,” said Sonia, with a smile. She kissed his cheek affectionately, then bent to Beryl, seated on a blue velvet chair near the fire. “Dear Beryl, how are you?”

  The pair were smiling, exchanging significant glances. It struck Sonia that Beryl was blooming, her cheeks pink, her eyes sparkling. But politeness must win out over curiosity. They exchanged greetings, asked about mutual friends, told their news. Beryl asked about the ball.

  “We have heard you went to the home of the duke! For dinner and dancing! We were amazed. Father approved?”

  “Oh, yes, it was his idea,” said Sonia. “I was surprised… I think he wished to win more commissions for me.”

  Jacob’s eyebrows raised, but he made no comment. “Well, well, you had a pretty fine time, by the sounds of it, dancing with all the lords.”

  “How did you hear?” asked Sonia, smiling.

  “I have my sources.” Jacob’s mouth smiled as his finger tapped his ear significantly, like his father’s gesture when telling of some bit of important news.

  They both laughed at him, and went on talking eagerly. Leah brought in a tea trolley of silver, Sonia’s favourite, with the china she had chosen from her uncle’s storehouse out of a shipment fresh from China. Delicate blue and white porcelain, with a slim elegant dragon curling about the cups and plates, among delicious oriental flowers.

  They drank tea, ate spicy cakes and talked. Finally the talk died down, and Beryl looked at Jacob.

  “We have news for you,” said Jacob, with an unusual blush behind his black beard. He got up to stand at the fine marble mantel, with the green flowered vase behind him.

  “Oh, and what is that?” asked Sonia, already guessing. She held her breath, hoping. They had been married two years, and Beryl had longed and wept for a child.

  Beryl blushed, and beamed, and her eyes sparkled. “We are to have a child, dearest Sonia!”

  “Oh, how happy I am for you!” Sonia jumped up, went to her cousin’s wife, and kissed her warmly. “A child! I thought you were so happy today , and now I know the reason. The best of good wishes for a successful birth!”

  “Thank you, my dear!” They accepted her wishes happily, and began to chat of their plans. Beryl hoped it would be a boy, Jacob would be happy for his first child. Already Abner had three sons, and though his wife nagged and complained, he was happy in that. Now the elder brother would have his child, and perhaps more!

  Sonia was gently envious of them. To be married and devoted to each other, as they were, made for such a happy state. And now to have a child! She thought of Jacob as a brother. Certainly, he had always treated her as his sister, quietly helpful to her, devoted to her and his father.

  “And when do you expect —?”

  “In June, next June,” sighed Beryl happily. “When the roses bloom. Oh, I pray every night —”

  “And so shall I,” promised Sonia. Beryl was a dear girl, so gentle and devout. If only all went well…!

  The talk finally turned to other matters. Jacob worked with his father in the City, at brokerage and other financial matters. The state of the country and of Europe was of deep concern to him, for financial and family reasons.

  “Napoleon has romped all over Europe,” he said gravely. “We must stop him soon, or he will land in London with his troops! No, no, I jest,” he said quickly to his upset wife. “No, no, he will not come here.”

  But Sonia knew that Napoleon had just such ambitions, and so did Jacob. At one point in 1805 the French had been dangerously close to invasion. Troops had been gathered with landing boats on the coast opposite Dover. Then had come word of movement of enemies, and Napoleon had dashed south to Ulm to defeat the Austrians there, and then on to the battle of Austerlitz.

  Napoleon might try again. Just now, he was engaged in battles in the Peninsula against Spain and Portugal. The British had rallied in support of the Portuguese, their allies for centuries. And now in September 1809 they awaited word from the armies there, as to the progress. Arthur Wellesley had been sent there, to rally and command the British and Portuguese, and the battle of Oporto and then of Talavera had electrified all England, His successes gave them new hope of drawing Napoleon into a final battle, to destroy his hopes of conquering Europe and Britain.

  “We have had word of cousins in Vienna,” said Jacob to Sonia. “You will tell Father tonight, before I see him tomorrow. They are in some need, and I must arrange to send money to them.”

  Sonia nodded, her face turning grave. Their cousins had helped her and her father escape. “Is Frederico —”

  “He is well,” said Jacob. “And his wife, but their baby son has died. And one of his wife’s relatives was caught in a pogrom — she is dead. I wonder if we should attempt to get them all out of Vienna.” And his bearded face looked older than its years.

  “If any money is needed,” Sonia said quickly, “you have but to ask. There is plenty.”

  Jacob smiled and patted her shoulder. “I know, my dear cousin. You are most generous. I will let you know. But Father will probably arrange all.”

  “Oh, I hate it all,” burst out gentle Beryl, with unusual passion. “Why must Jews be so hated that they are herded in ghettos, and not allowed in society? Cousin Dina married a gentleman of noble birth here in England, but she is shunned! She says she does not care, that her children are all. But it is dreadful! And no Jew may sit in the House of Commons, because he cannot take the Christian oath of office, even if he could be elected!”

  “It is something to be endured,” said Jacob soothingly. “Do not distress yourself, Beryl.” But he looked thoughtful, his hands clasped behind his back.

  “How long must we endure?” asked Sonia quietly. “I heard talk at the ball — I hope Uncle did not hear them. But they spoke of us as ‘daring’ to come to their ball, pushing our way into their society! We were invited.”

  “Of course you were,” said Jacob, looking at her thoughtfully. “I am surprised that my father accepted the invitation. Perhaps he had other reasons —”

  “Yes, he wishes me to receive more commissions. But I prefer to be treated as a businesswoman,” said Sonia, her head haughtily high and her grey eyes unusually angry. The slurs had hurt. “I shall not push myself into their company, believe me!”

  “Were they rude to you? Did they treat you hatefully?” asked Beryl, touching Sonia’s hand comfortingly. “Do not go again, dear Sonia. We shall have a dinner for you soon, and introduce you to some nice man —”

  Sonia burst out laughing, her fury forgotten. “Oh, do not matchmake, dearest Beryl!” she begged. “I do not wish to be introduced to a series of nice young men! I manage quite well by myself.”

  Beryl teased her, but Jacob looked sober and thoughtful. Uncle Meyer returned home early from his office, and was happy to see his son and daughter-in-law there, especially when he heard their news.

  The talk turned to more happy matters. They remained for dinner, and it was a gay, merry family affair. The next morning, Sonia went to her work table in a happier frame of mind. The ball had made her discontented, she thought. She would not like to go again.

  She took out the small leather bag of gems her newest merchant had brought to her. They were splendid indeed, from the Orient, and some very unusual. She had paid a high price for them, yet they were worth it.

  She examined them more closely, rolling them out on a white velvet cloth. She picked up one gem, and studied it with her sharpest jeweller’s loupe which magnified any flaws readily. There were no flaws in this gem! A stunning star sapphire, it had been cut lovingly into cabochon shape, and the rounded curve showed the b
eautiful white lines of the star shining on the deep blue. She picked up her cloth and carefully polished it a little more, studying it again and again.

  A truly magnificent gem! This was the finest star sapphire she had ever seen, in gem or in rough. It must be more than forty carats, she judged, and weighed it. Yes, just over forty. How could she use it?

  She fingered it, thought about it. Finally she set it aside. It was so special, she must keep it for a special cause, for someone she really liked. Not like that countess. Someone special.

  For some reason, as she gazed at the sapphire with delight, she thought of the deep vivid-blue eyes of Alastair Charlton. Lord Fairley was quite beyond her reach, as Bettina had said crudely of some beau. However — it was pleasant to think of him. She allowed her thoughts to linger on him for a few minutes.

  How tall, how handsome, with such a grave smile on his face, and the dark- blue eyes lighting as they spoke of music. His manners were as polished as this gem.

  She sighed to think how far apart their worlds were. She was a Jewess, from the ghettos of Vienna and Eastern Europe. He was a marquess in the great royal families of England — Protestant, born to great houses and greater positions. England had treated Jews rather well in recent years. Many had fled Europe and come to England because of its tolerance of Jews. Yet — yet how far apart they were. They might walk the same streets, but not together. They might ride down the same highways, but not in the same carriages. They might marry high — but not to each other.

  “Oh, I am becoming foolish,” she murmured, and took her sketchpad and went out into the garden. The September day was warm, and it was pleasant in that secluded patio, under the trees. She drew in a deep breath of the late roses, and began to sketch a design, incorporating a rose and a butterfly.

  Alastair Charlton had dismissed his carriage two blocks away, and walked slowly to the house where Meyer Goldfine lived. He glanced up at the handsome house of stone and marble pillars with grim distaste. He had preferred to go to the counting house, but Meyer Goldfine had insisted on seeing him at his home.