Star Sapphire: Love and wild adventure in Regency England

by Janet Louise Roberts

“Why — I scarcely know,” said Sonia, as Edwina did not confide in her.

  “Must find out,” muttered the lady to herself. “Ah, there is Mrs Holm. Widow. Should be in grey. Suppose she’s out to catch herself the next.”

  Sonia stood on one foot and then the other. Alastair took a long time to return to them. He seemed to be trapped in a gay circle of friends. Finally he managed to extricate himself, and returned with a footman carrying a tray of glasses.

  They stood and sipped the mild lemon-flavoured drink. It was cooling and refreshing, and non-alcoholic. Sonia smiled and smiled at nothing, as Alastair and Lady Barnstable exchanged gossip about people they knew. She knew very few of them, she had nothing to offer in the way of small talk.

  Then she did see someone she knew: Sir Jonathan Wiltshire, with whom she had danced the one other time she had gone to a ball with her uncle, on the memorable night when she had first met Alastair.

  “Oh, isn’t that, over there — isn’t that Sir Jonathan —” She had not realized that in her eagerness to recognize someone her voice would carry.

  The tall dignified soldier turned to see who spoke of him. He stared right at Sonia, then turned his shoulder and continued speaking to the gentleman he was addressing. Further, he took the gentleman’s arm and went further away towards the door to the balcony. It was a direct cut.

  Tears stung Sonia’s eyes. She tried to blink them away. It might be a mistake… she was too sensitive. She gazed down at her gold-trimmed fan with the brilliant peacock design on it. She waved it slowly, pretending she had not spoken at all. She was sure Alastair had noticed, for his mouth tightened and his lips had lost their happy smile.

  Lady Barnstable found an amiable companion, and they eagerly began to speak in penetrating whispers. Sonia and Alastair stood alone. “Another dance, my dear?” he asked gently, and replaced her glass on the tray. He put his arm about her. It was a slow dance she could follow, and they did not form a set.

  When they stopped, no one she knew was in sight. Alastair bowed and smiled to those he knew, but few came near them. The guests spoke, nodded, went on. She and Alastair seemed to stand in a little circle apart from everyone else, no matter how crowded the floor was with dancers.

  Alastair tried to make conversation. “At midnight, we all go downstairs for the collation,” he said. “The table is spread with a plenitude of food — you will be amazed at the variety. The prince is noted for his hospitality. You may not recognize some of the foods — I do not myself.”

  She smiled and tried to answer. If he had come alone, she thought, he would be having a splendid time! She was the one who was causing the trouble, for no one would come near her. And yet the prince himself had been kind and courteous.

  The minutes seemed like hours. She shifted again from one sandaled foot to the other. Her smile seemed engraved on her lips. Alastair stopped another footman to get drinks for them both, with something strong in them this time. She merely sipped at hers. He drank his down with a savage gesture.

  A lady smiled at him. Sonia said quickly, “Oh, do go and dance with her, if you wish, Alastair. I’ll sit down near the window. My, isn’t it warm in here?”

  Alastair looked grave. He took her arm without speaking, and led her to the window overlooking the balconies. He did not leave her, nor could he find her a chair — they were all occupied. She made an intense effort to think of something bright to say, but her mind seemed fuzzy as wool.

  Then she heard the clear malicious voice behind them. A woman was saying, “The Jewish bride! Yes, that she is. And wearing some of her gold on her back!”

  She stiffened, gasped. Alastair gave a furious look at someone over her shoulder. Sonia felt dizzy and faint. That someone should be so — so unkind… When this very afternoon, the wealthy and important Nathan Rothschild had spoken to her as an equal. And the prince himself had been kind!

  Alastair put his arm about her. “It is too chilly here by the window, my darling, you will catch cold,” he said protectively, leading her inside again. He kept his arm about her; he must have felt her shivering. She felt the tension in his warm body so close to hers. He was angry — protective. Yet she knew — she knew he was ashamed of her. The taste of it was gall in her mouth.

  No one came near them. They saw Maurice at a distance, gaily dancing with one fair lady after another. Edwina was surrounded by beaus, fanning herself, laughing. Henrietta had gone back to Lady Barnstable, and was confiding something in her, her cheeks pink with excitement. The older lady was smiling indulgently.

  Sonia gathered her courage in both hands. She gave Alastair a calm look. “I think I am spoiling the evening for you, Alastair. I beg you, call my carriage… let me go home. You can remain and make sure the girls are — are happy —”

  His mouth set. “I am not happy here. I’ll make sure Maurice and Lady Barnstable are looking after the girls. They may return home later. Wait here for me!”

  He left her near the entrance to the room. The minutes dragged, yet he came back within five minutes by the gold clock near Sonia. “I have called our carriage, it will be ready,” he murmured.

  The maid came with her cloak, and put it about her. Sonia lifted her head proudly and they descended the stairs, Alastair’s hand under her elbow, holding her to him. At the carriage she tried again.

  “I beg you, Alastair, return upstairs and rejoin the party. I do not wish to spoil your evening because of — of my headache,” she invented rapidly, to give him an out.

  He did not take it. “I shall leave with you,” he said curtly, his tanned face darker than usual, his blue eyes flashing. They entered the carriage and were driven away.

  She could say nothing on the ride home. Her hands were clasped tightly together, her rings cutting into her palms. The humiliation of it! And it had been deliberate. They did not want Jewish people in their society, and they made it very evident. And she was spoiling it for Alastair.

  At their home, she paused in the hallway. “Thank you, Alastair, for escorting me home. I pray you, do return to the ball, and dance with your sisters. They will be sorry if you do not.”

  He gave her a look. “Without you? No, thank you.”

  She bowed her head, and went up the stairs. Her feet dragged. She felt more weary than if she had danced all night. The shame of it dragged at her limbs, making them feel leaden. She felt him standing there, watching her go up to her apartment, but she could not turn and smile good night.

  In her room, she began to undress. She removed the jewels, and set them away in the cases. Leah came, her face dark. Silently, she helped her mistress remove the gauzy overdress and the topaz satin gown. When Sonia had put on her muslin nightdress and lace negligee, she sat at the dressing table and let Leah brush her hair over and over, soothingly.

  She lay down to go to sleep. Leah exited, after blowing out the candles. Sonia’s mind went round and round. What was best for her to do? Stay at home after this? Let Alastair go alone? Or would people whisper all the more? Should she have remained, kept her chin high, and forced them to accept her presence? But she could not endure that — the slights, the cold shoulders, the malice in their words…

  The door opened. She thought Leah had returned for a moment, and her head turned wearily on the lace-edged pillows. But the door was the one to Alastair’s suite.

  A dark-clad form came in, and the brightness of his blond hair caught the light from the window. He came over to the bed.

  “My dear, I could not leave you alone tonight,” he said simply, and moved into the bed with her. He turned to take her into his arms. A sob came into her throat. She stifled it proudly. She did not want pity!

  But when he moved his hands on her, and pressed his kisses on her face and throat, passion arose in her. Her arms came up, to close fiercely about his neck, her fingers moving through his thick soft hair. He was stroking the long curls about her shoulders, whispering love words as he embraced her.

  It had been so long — so long — and she had
missed him…

  “My darling, my dear love,” he said, and she could not resist that. Nor could she resist the gentle way he moved his fingers on her bared breasts, then put his mouth to her throat, kissing the pulse-beat there. She knew it was rapid, and it grew more rapid as his kisses deepened.

  His passion grew, and so did hers. She did not care that he had removed her nightdress, and tossed it out of bed along with his. Their bared bodies met, joined. His arms held her tightly to him as he made love to her wildly. A soft cry came from her lips as he gave her pleasure.

  “My lovely, my lovely,” his murmured words were wooing and sweet. “My prettiest dear, my dove — how soft you are, so silky sweet —”

  His lips pressed down over her shoulders, to her breasts again, down to her waist. Then he moved more rapidly, as though the touch of her excited him unbearably. And the pleasure between them was hotly honeyed as they struggled for fulfilment. She cried out again. He stifled her moan with his lips, their arms and legs entwined in the canopied bed.

  He lay back, breathing rapidly, then once again he came to her, as though he could not get enough of her. She lay limply unresisting, thrilling again and again at his touch, at his movements. He nuzzled at her neck and shoulders, kissed her again and again, down over her breasts, taking the nipples in his lips and pulling at them. He gave her new passion, until again she cried out at his fierce possession of her body. She felt completely one with him, breathing with his breath, moving with his limbs, sighing with his sigh. She was shaking as with a chill when he was finally finished. Yet she did not feel cold, but hot, hot as fire.

  He came down to rest, then, holding her closely to him, as though unable to let her go. And they slept, dark head close to blonde on the pillow.

  CHAPTER 11

  Sonia did not go again to any big party. At Alastair’s anxious urgings, she did attend a few smaller dinners, and, of course, she was hostess in their home. But she refused with one excuse or another to attend any large gathering.

  She tossed her head proudly, her lips hard, when she thought of the slights and mockery, the malice in their whispers. They were jealous of her wealth, she thought. They were not too proud to go to her uncle for huge loans, but socially — no, they would not want to meet her socially! Well, she did not wish to meet them, either. She had enough to do — she had much work to keep her busy.

  Soon, another event had her anxious and preoccupied. Her cousin’s wife, Beryl, was expecting her baby. It was giving her much pain and illness. Sonia went daily to her; finally, when Beryl gave birth one night, Sonia was with her. Leah, too, was there, for she had much experience in these matters. It was a long painful experience for Beryl. When her baby son finally arrived, she was extremely weak and exhausted.

  Sonia remained with her another day, until she was sure Beryl was out of danger, then returned home. She said little of it, knowing the others cared not at all for her relatives. She said, briefly, “My cousin’s wife has had her child, and all is now well,” and that was all she told them.

  Alastair gazed at her thoughtfully, a slight frown on his face. “And you have been with her constantly? You must be weary,” he said without expression.

  “Very tired, thank you. I shall sleep for a while,” and she went up to her room. She was glad to be in her own bed, retiring early to sleep into the next day until noon.

  The season was almost over. She wondered what they would do this summer. Many in Society had already left London, retiring to country homes.

  She was dressed, with Leah brushing her hair, when Alastair entered her bedroom. He came over to the dressing table, looked at her in the mirror.

  “You slept late today, Sonia.”

  She smiled faintly, not meeting his eyes. Edwina and Henrietta often slept until afternoon when they had been out at balls. Was Sonia now expected to get up early and work hard, as she normally did? She felt tired all over again, her temper only partially under control.

  “Yes, and I have much work to do at the townhouse. I will go there presently.”

  His mouth had hardened. “I wish to speak to you about that,” he said, picking up her small powder box and examining it idly, turning it about in his long fingers. She had made it of alabaster, with a small gold button on the top.

  Leah, her face impassive, continued to brush Sonia’s hair, then to braid it into its usual coronet about her head.

  “Yes?” asked Sonia.

  “The season is about over. The girls are weary. I should like for us to retire to the country before long. How are your commissions? Can you continue them in the country, or are they about finished?”

  Surprise held her silent for a few moments. Her wide grey gaze met his blue in the mirror. He was looking intently at her, as though judging her reaction.

  “Why — my work is at such a stage — I can leave it easily. Most of the jewels were wanted for the season, and they are completed. No, I have nothing to hold me here,” she added eagerly, wistfully. Could they really be going to Fairley?

  “Good! Splendid! I shall ask the girls and Maurice to wind up their social life. We ought to be able to leave for Fairley within two weeks, say, by mid-June. Will that suit you?”

  He had put his hand gently on her shoulder, as though wishing to touch her, and judge her feelings through the touch. She felt a wild thrill race through her body at the touch of his fingers. How responsive she felt towards him! How her blood seemed to sing when he was near her, her body trembled when he moved closer.

  Beryl should be well on to recovery within two weeks. Sonia smiled and nodded. “It would suit me splendidly. I looked forward to going again to Fairley — it should be beautiful in the summer.”

  “Yes, Fairley is a beautiful place in all seasons,” he said absently. That afternoon at tea, for which they were all present — a most unusual occurrence — he told the others.

  Henrietta was a little reluctant, yet she knew the season was over. Edwina was relieved.

  “Oh, I am so tired of being dressed up constantly! It shall be a relief to go and be comfortable,” she sighed. There were shadows under her eyes.

  Sonia glanced at her uneasily. Did she sigh for a young man? Did she lie awake because of unrequited love? Or was she simply tired of the round of the social life? Maurice did not care one way or another, for he amused himself wherever he went. In the country he could ride every day, and that would please him.

  The next two weeks sped past. Sonia went daily to her work, finished two sets of jewels, and sent them to their purchasers. She refused several commissions against the winter, and accepted two on which there was no time limit. She explained carefully that she was going to the country, and that she did not know when she could complete them.

  Both ladies insisted they did not care. “Just so long as we have jewels by Lady Fairley,” simpered one coyly. “She is so justly famous in London! How I admire the gems you designed for your sisters!” She had met Henrietta and Edwina, and had examined their necklaces and tiaras as closely as possible. She wanted something designed just for herself.

  The woman was foolish, but not malicious, Sonia managed to smile at her. “I shall design something especially for your own kind of beauty, with your reddish hair and green eyes. I think a green stone, with a delicate framework of silver — yes, a tiara that seems to float —”

  They were delighted with her, and went away exclaiming it would be doubly pleasant to see her this autumn, knowing she was designing for them. She packed up her sketchbooks, pencils, pads, locked away the remaining jewels, and sent word to her gem merchants that she might not see them again until the autumn. Meantime, would they watch for emeralds, fine topaz, more sapphires, and anything unusual in the way of gems?

  It took five carriages to convey their party to Fairley, with their trunks, their maids, valets and footmen. The butler, housekeeper and a skeleton staff would remain in London, as usual. The housekeeper unwound so far as to assure Sonia that “my lady need not fret about the house
in her absence. I assure you I shall take every care. The house shall be kept aired and ready for your return.”

  She was not nearly so cold and unfriendly as before, but came to Sonia for orders as she had formerly to Edwina. Sonia found some relief in that. Gradually she would win them over, and all would go smoothly for Alastair. That was all she cared about.

  Sonia was much happier to see Mrs Pendennis again. The good woman was waiting out in the gravelled drive as the carriages rolled up after their journey of several days. She beamed, her cheeks red in the wind, and cried out, “Welcome, welcome! We have been ready these weeks for you!”

  How pleasant to have such a joyous acceptance, after the chill of London and its society! Sonia took her hands, and said unsteadily, “It is wonderful to be here again. Thank you again. You are most good.”

  “Come in, my lady. That drive is a long chilly one. The fires are lit in all your rooms. And I have some Cornish pasties for supper with your tea!” She shooed them all before her like so many eager children, laughing happily as Maurice dared to give her a kiss on her pink cheek.

  It was like coming home. Sonia slept soundly that night for the first time in weeks. She had no worries or humiliations to keep her awake. She wakened early the next morning, and went downstairs to confer with Mrs Pendennis, to hear all that had happened in their absence, to make plans for the summer. Alastair soon came down and joined her for breakfast, dressed in his summer clothes of tweeds and wool jacket. His eyes seemed bluer than ever with the dark blue wool coat about his broad shoulders and his mouth ready to smile.

  That first day, she wandered about in the gardens and, further afield, into the apple orchards and out to the stables. She renewed acquaintance with the gentle mare she had ridden before, fed her an apple, and promised to come for a ride the next morning. Alastair had saddled up his huge stallion and had gone out eagerly to survey all his domain.

  Edwina rose for luncheon; Henrietta still slept, she said. Edwina brooded over her meal, and gave Sonia little appealing looks. Sonia ignored them for a time, but finally Edwina came to her as she was sketching by the windows in the drawing room. The flowers were giving her inspiration for more designs.