Star Sapphire: Love and wild adventure in Regency England

by Janet Louise Roberts

  He opened the door to her living room and went in. Sonia was seated near the windows, attired in a morning gown of pale lilac muslin, with deeper purple ribbons at her waist and throat. The silver tray before her contained the remains of her breakfast.

  “Good morning, my lord,” she said formally. “May I serve you coffee?”

  Leah brought a second cup and saucer at his nod, and stood stiffly nearby. Alastair gave her a look. Sonia finally said, “Is there something you wish to discuss, my lord?”

  “Yes, and alone,” he said bluntly.

  Leah looked outraged, but gave him a frosty nod and left, every line of her plump back ramrod-straight. She shut the door after her, retiring into the bedroom.

  Sonia waited, poured his coffee, set it before him. He drank it slowly, looking from the window to the wintry garden scene before them. The March wind had begun to tear to pieces what was left of the dry leaves of the autumn before.

  Alastair had carefully composed several fine speeches, but they went the way of the dried leaves. He said finally, “We cannot continue this way, Sonia. It is damaging the family… it brings to naught all I have worked to achieve. Is there no forgiving me for what I have done to you by marrying you?”

  The dark grey eyes were lowered; she seemed to study the design on the plate before her. Her shoulders raised in a shrug, she finally said, “What do you wish me to do, Alastair? Leave you?”

  “My God, no!” he said, horrified. He looked directly at her, noted the grey hollows below her eyes, the tired lines of her face. She looked older than when they had married; her fine colour from their stay at Fairley had disappeared. “No,” he said, more quietly. “We must reach some accommodation. I have been trying to arrange some way to present you and Henrietta. It has been — difficult. Rumours of our — estrangement are about. And other matters are in the way.”

  “My religious beliefs,” she said in a low tone. She raised the coffee cup to her lips. Her slim hand did not shake. She did not seem upset, only resigned. He nodded.

  “I have talked to many ladies; they refuse to sponsor you. Any one of them would gladly sponsor Henrietta. So — what shall we do?”

  “Ask the most powerful of them to sponsor Henrietta, of course, and forget about my presentation,” Sonia said dryly. “I did not think it would be possible. We must think of her future.”

  He was relieved, and hated himself for it. She took it well, as though she had not expected otherwise.

  “I will do that,” he said. “I think Lady Jersey herself would sponsor Henrietta — she has her good moments. In the meantime, we shall not keep you in the background,” he added with determination. “I know your work keeps you very busy. Have you many commitments at present?”

  She hesitated, gave him a puzzled look. “The usual,” she said.

  “Well, if you will but return home in time to change for dinner and join us as hostess, I think it would be well,” he said firmly. “We must appear a family. We shall drop the plan of presenting you. However, you must attend dinners in the homes of others, you must be the hostess in our home. It is not fair to Edwina to ask her to do all this.” He appealed to her, his dark blue eyes asking for him.

  Sonia thought about it, gazing from the window as he had done. A cheeky bird perched on the windowsill near them. Sonia appeared to be studying him closely. He fluttered his wings, gave them a bright beady stare, then darted away in search of a tasty morsel in the wintry garden.

  “I will do whatever you wish,” she said, in a level tone. “What are the engagements this week?”

  Relieved, he told her. She noted them mentally. “I thought we might plan a more formal dinner and entertainment next week, leading up to Henrietta’s presentation. About fifty guests of the ton, carefully selected, with jugglers and Spanish dancers — there is a troupe at the Gardens, and I will hire them for the evening. What do you think?”

  A sparkle came into the grey eyes that had been so lacklustre. “Oh, that would be splendid, I should enjoy it,” she said, in a livelier manner. “Do let me arrange it, Alastair. I will discuss it with Edwina. We shall arrange such an evening that the guests will not be able to refuse the invitations.”

  It was an odd way to put it. He had never had guests refuse to come. But he let that pass, and they went on to speak of other means of planning the winter and early spring festivities. With Henrietta safely launched, they could then concentrate on arranging Edwina’s betrothal.

  “Is she interested in any one man, or is it to be an arranged marriage?” asked Sonia carefully.

  Alastair saw the dangers in that subject. He managed to say, “I think she is as yet uncertain of her feelings. Perhaps this winter she may become interested in some man or other. I shall want to investigate anyone thoroughly. She is a dear girl,” and his voice warmed.

  “As for clothes, perhaps they will wish to choose more expensive gowns, especially for the presentation,” said Sonia. “I know merchants who have silk and satin fabrics which are not shown to many dressmakers. I could have them come and present them for a private showing. As for jewels —”

  He bit his lips. “I believe they have sufficient number,” he said stiffly.

  She turned her head restlessly. “They would be charming to design for,” she managed to say. “I should like — like to make some suggestions, and perhaps design something special for them all, including your brother. If you would not object —”

  “It is very kind of you to offer,” he said, remembering the star sapphire and how he had hurt her by trying to refuse it. This was her gift, the gift of beautiful designs, and he would not turn her down again. “Something delicate and youthful-looking, befitting their age and rank. I know you can do it charmingly.”

  She seemed to relax, her tense arms curled on the table. She said, “I shall be glad to try. Perhaps an ivory satin brocade for Henrietta, with pearls, small gems suited to her years. For Edwina, she looks stunning in delphinium blue, and her gems could be some aquamarines. I have an unusual number of them, of fine quality, which I obtained recently.”

  “Whatever you say.” He stood up with relief. The gap between them had been closed, or at least he hoped so. “We shall go into more detail, my dear, as the weeks go on. I believe there is a dinner tonight. Would you wear your gold dress? I admire that on you.”

  Her eyelashes fluttered, hid her grey eyes. “Yes, of course, as you wish.”

  He left her room, and went back to his own, humming. It was done. Sonia was generous; she never did things halfway. She had forgiven him, she would work with him. He felt greatly relieved.

  They did work together; she flung herself with enthusiasm into the plans. They had dinners, teas, one grand ball, with entertainment which was the talk of London for three days.

  Alastair finally found time to get away one morning. He had not seen Daphne Porter alone since his return to London. Always she had a crowd about her, laughing and talking, drinking and playing cards. He felt she was deliberately keeping him at a distance to punish him for marrying. But he must have it out with her. He wanted her badly, he wanted to be in her arms and forget all his problems.

  He took the stairs to her flat two at a time. In his hands were presents — an ivory fan with an unusual peacock design, a length of red silk, two gold bracelets. Nothing terribly expensive, but he felt he could not take Sonia’s money to buy something like rubies, such as Daphne had been hinting for.

  The slatternly maid would not let him in at first. “She’s asleep,” said the girl sullenly, turning him from the door.

  “Get her up, then. I have something of importance to say to her,” he said impatiently, and pushed past her into the drawing room. A negligee lay over one end of the lounge; cards were scattered on the floor, and some dice. She had been gaming last night, he thought, sniffing the stale air with disgust. Sonia kept everything immaculate and sweet-smelling; he didn’t know how she did it, after the throngs they had in.

  He sat down, pushing aside a ga
uzy scarf to do so. He set the gifts on the small table beside him. He had to wait over half an hour, but when she came out, it was worth it. She wore a crimson velvet gown, bordered in swansdown. It was gaudy, but it suited her blonde beauty.

  “What is of such importance, Alastair?” She yawned behind her hand. She accepted his kiss on her hand and cheek, then lounged into a chair, crossing her legs, so the gown swung open, showing her lovely long legs. He looked at her hungrily.

  “I brought you a few things, Daphne. You always have such a crowd about — I thought I would come in the morning for a change,” he smiled.

  She tore open the papers, cooed over the length of silk, slid the bracelets on her arms, then opened the fan and looked at him over the brim. “Is this all, my darling?” she smiled.

  Her eyes were naughty, vividly green in the darkened room. He came over to sit on the arm of her chair. “No, there is me. Look — let’s go to your room,” he said rapidly, urgently.

  He had not had her since his marriage, and he wanted her badly. She shrugged her rounded plump shoulders.

  “Darling, so hasty. And you didn’t bring me rubies. Bad boy,” she scolded. “You didn’t forget again, did you? You have some in your pockets,” and she began to put her hands in his coat and trouser pockets.

  He flushed, and sat up straight, finally sliding from the arm of the chair to stand erect. “No, I didn’t bring gems, Daphne,” he said quietly. He strode away, to gaze unseeingly from the window out into the mews. A carriage was waiting there — he had not seen it before. Didn’t he recognize the coat of arms on the panels? He frowned down at it. He turned about, to catch sight of a jacket of a distinctive shade of green lying on the floor near the window.

  That green jacket, with the gold braid elaborately on the shoulders… he had seen it before… he had teased the owner as he was being fitted at the tailor’s, calling him a peacock. Something went cold and hard in Alastair.

  “Darling.” Daphne stood up and came to him, leaning against his arm. She lifted his bronzed hand. “Your ring, that’s it! That is my present! You silly boy, to keep me waiting!” Eagerly she tugged at the star sapphire on his finger. “It’s beautiful… let me see it!”

  The star sapphire Sonia had presented to him, of her own exquisite design and making…! His fingers closed into a fist, Daphne could not remove the ring, and she pouted at him.

  “No,” he said harshly.

  “But I want this ring, love! Let me try it on… come on, darling,” she coaxed and pouted in a way that had driven him wild with desire a few short months before. Her red mouth was so full and luscious…

  “No. I cannot. It is — a gift.” He kept his fist clenched and she could not open his fingers.

  “Oh, let it go, then.” Angrily she flung his hand from her. “But don’t think you can come up here and dictate to me! You’ll pay for me, and don’t forget it! I wanted marriage, and you married that woman, that —”

  “Don’t say that, or her name,” he warned, in deadly cold tones that once would have quelled any trooper in his regiment. “Forgive me for intruding. I will leave now.” He picked up his morning top hat and went to the door.

  “Alastair! Come back!” she cried mockingly. “When you have enough gems for me! Come back!” And she laughed.

  He turned, surveyed her, in that crimson robe with her blonde hair down her back. In a few years, she would not even be pretty. Lines already marred her face, her over-indulgence in liquor had made her chin plump and sagging.

  “I will not be back, Daphne,” he said evenly. “Oh, you might inform Sir Philip Ryan — in the bedroom — that your rent is three months overdue. I will instruct that the bills be sent to him directly from now on!”

  He opened the door and went out, with her screaming after him. “Alastair — come back! You cannot refuse to pay the rent! You hired the flat. You have to pay!”

  He smiled grimly as he went out to the street. A petty revenge, but it suited him.

  His coachman was waiting. “I’ll walk for a while, then get a hack. Go on home,” he said, brusquely. He walked on, towards the river.

  London was having one of its foggy days, when everything was blotted out as though grey wool shrouded its buildings and lamp-posts. He strode on, his cane swinging in warning to any would-be footpad, staring into the mist. In spite of the fog, he seemed never to have seen so clearly.

  He walked for a time along the river bank, his heels ringing on the cobbles. When the fury had cleared, his mind was clean, drained of all desire for Daphne. He had seen her clearly, and the picture was not at all pretty. That he had — had wanted that slut — dreamed of her while he was at Fairley, longed for her, desired her, rushed back to see her! And all she wanted was her rent paid, and gems for her plump neck and thick fingers. Love? She did not know what it was.

  The grey mist clung to his top hat and fine wool suit; it settled in raindrops on his boots. Still he strode on, thinking, remembering, cringing as he thought of how he had fallen for that vapid face, that ringing laugh, the amusements she offered, the forgetfulness in her arms.

  How he had brought about his own downfall! Lavishing gifts on her… His foolish desire for that greedy wench had taken him deeper and deeper into debt. Not only gaming, but that woman also had brought him to this state. He was like his father — he was following in his footsteps, neglecting a fine wife at home while he chased after a hank of blonde hair.

  Had he been possessed of a fortune, he might even have married Daphne Porter! He felt sick at the thought. To have her the mistress of his home, the mother of his children — that bitch! To ask Edwina and Henrietta to receive her and be guided by her!

  He sighed, and ran his hand over his dampened face. It was cold; he had best find a hack and get home. He was tired, hungry, lost. He turned about, and began to retrace his steps.

  The fog closed about him, yet he had never felt so free, so sure of where he was going. He was going home, to the woman he had married… Sonia! She was all gentleness and ladylike poise, her grey eyes cool and confident and intelligent. His wife! How had he been drawn to her? How had it happened that fate had allowed him to marry her? She was infinitely above him — a gentlewoman, a wife of whom one could be proud. Already Edwina and Henrietta were turning to her, confiding in her.

  Alastair came into a better district, of business houses and flats, and was able to find a hack. He got in and directed the jarvey to his home, taking off his hat and running his hand through his damp hair. Sonia. How could he remake his life with her? She had been hurt, finding out about that marriage settlement. And he had insulted her. Could she ever forgive him, and be his wife again?

  He had married a Jewess for her money. Now he admired her for her intelligence and goodness. His life was all afoul, for he had done such foolish things in the past. Would she understand this? He honoured her. Did she know that? The past months had been so difficult for her. He smiled a little, tenderly, as he thought of her happiness at Fairley, her shyness in the townhouse. She tried to appear so confident, but she was like a sparrow, quick to take alarm and fly off, her grey eyes flickering with fear.

  He must go slowly, and woo her all over again. He had started off right, for she had been loving and sweet in his arms — until that horrible incident in his study.

  From now on, he thought, he must devote himself to Sonia, and to his brother and sisters. He must think only of them all, and settle down. He had had a lucky escape, and he was thankful for it with all his heart. He grimaced at the thought of Philip Ryan. He would not do for Edwina, if he was frequenting Daphne Porter! No, he would not do for dear Edwina, so gentle and trusting and good. Sonia must help him find the right man for Edwina, someone who deserved her.

  He was late for luncheon. They were sitting down at table when he came in, wet and weary, from his long walk. “I’ll only be ten minutes — wait for me,” he said, putting his head in the doorway of the dining room.

  Sonia nodded. “Of course. We have only
just sat down to soup,” she said, her gaze averted from him.

  He hummed as he dried himself, changed to another suit, and dashed down the stairs again. He came in as they were at fish, and said, “I’ll have a double plate of that — it looks delicious!” His voice was so gay and happy that Edwina exchanged a look with Henrietta, while Sonia looked up to his end of the table in surprise.

  The conversation was amiable, of clothes, and the next dinner, and who had talked of what at tea yesterday. He had never felt so contented and happy. He teased Henrietta about a beau, told Edwina she must look smart or her sister would beat her to the altar, and informed Maurice that he definitely would escort his sisters to the plays this coming week, no matter what else he had planned. He caught Sonia’s sober grey gaze on him in wonderment, and grinned down the long table at her.

  No problems were so bad that they could not be worked out, he thought.

  CHAPTER 10

  Sonia was almost frantically busy, but it kept her from brooding. She could even sleep at night, so tired that after a glass of warm milk she dropped right off.

  Alastair did not come to her, but he did stay home more often, and that was something. He had persuaded Henrietta’s godmother, the formidable Lady Barnstable, fairly recently widowed, to present her to Society. They were all busy from morning to night.

  Lady Barnstable — Sonia’s mouth curled into a smile at thought of her. She had feared to meet her, and when she did she found her sharp-tongued, speaking her mind freely. Yet this small, dynamic person in her purples was a dashing figure. A widow at fifty, she was now fifty-two and coming out of her mourning grey.

  She had agreed to bring out Henrietta. It had been a fortunate choice. No one snubbed Lady Barnstable — she had too many friends in high places. So long as Sonia kept in the background, all had to go well.

  Sonia went daily to her townhouse, where she worked all morning and afternoon on her jewellery designs. She had completed sets of gems for Edwina and Henrietta, made smart unusual cuff studs for Maurice and Alastair, and finally composed a drawing- room piece for Lady Barnstable. The lady was exceedingly wealthy and possessed boxes of jewellery. Sonia had thought long about what to give her.