She had seen the lady’s gardens, with beautiful trees, shrubs, and plots of exquisite flowers, and had heard her speak lovingly of her blooms.
“I hate the winter,” Lady Barnstable had said. “Only then do I lack fresh flowers from my gardens here. In my country home, I have a greenhouse, and have flowers sent up to London daily. But the poor things often freeze on the coach.”
So Sonia had captured her idea. Now she had completed the gift. It was about eight inches tall, with a rock crystal base like a flower pot. From it grew a jade stem. The lilies of the valley were formed of pearls, drooping on more jade stems. Tucked in the base were flowers of carnelian, jasper, amber and tourmaline.
It needed only a little more work and it would be complete. She turned it about on her work table, her grey eyes shining. She did hope the lady would be pleased. Once enlisted in Henrietta’s cause, Lady Barnstable had worked ferociously hard to present her and find young men to introduce to her. Because of her, Edwina and Henrietta were now enjoying their happiest time in London.
Someone tapped at the door. Leah went to open it. It was one of the refugee women whom Sonia had taken in. There were so many Jews escaping from the Continent, now that the pogroms were increasing in ferocity in Austria and the German states. French troops were on the march everywhere. Any Jew with money tried to escape lest everything be taken from him.
The slim woman bobbed a curtsey, and said in German, “ Mr Goldfine presents his compliments, and would you join him in the drawing room, my lady?”
All the refugees were very impressed that their hostess was a British lady with a real title, as well as one of themselves.
Sonia gave Leah a quick glance — they were both surprised. Uncle Meyer rarely came home in the early afternoon, once started on his work at the office.
“Please inform Mr Goldfine I shall be there within five minutes,” she said.
Another curtsey, and the woman went out.
Sonia put her jewellery away reluctantly and took off her working apron, revealing her muslin gown of lilac with the blue ribbons. “Do I look all right, Leah?” she asked anxiously, for she was without a mirror.
Leah brushed with her hand at the soft curls on her charge’s forehead. She straightened the skirt of the gown, gave her a long critical look from head to toe. “You look splendid, my dove,” she said.
Sonia went with her to the drawing room. She heard the deep tones of two men. She hesitated. Who could be with Uncle?
She tapped lightly on the door. Her Uncle Meyer called out, “Pray to come in!”
She went in to find him standing with another man. She knew the other by sight, and gave him a deep curtsey.
Her uncle made the introductions with an unusual degree of formality. “My niece, Lady Sonia Charlton, Marchioness of Fairley. May I introduce to you Mr Nathan Rothschild? Mr Rothschild, the Marchioness of Fairley.”
They both bowed again. Sonia had seen the astute face with the sagging lower lip, the sharp blue eyes, the curled reddish hair of this man in his mid-thirties. She had heard much of him since she had come to London. He had set up his own banking house. When he bought, he was imitated and followed. When he sold, all London sold, or so they said. He stood by a pillar at the Exchange and everybody watched him. He was stout, ungainly, yet somehow commanding in air and manner.
They all sat down, Uncle Meyer in his usual chair, the others on either side of him. Leah stood in the corner of the room, a watchful presence never far from her charge.
“I have heard of your exceeding generosity to our unfortunate brethren,” murmured Nathan Rothschild to Sonia.
She bent her head. “I was also once a refugee,” she said simply. “I know how they feel.”
“I understand you have hired a tutor to teach them English, besides giving them food and lodging.”
“It is necessary in England,” she said, with humour in her luminous grey eyes. “The British think all other languages barbarous! They must learn English in order to live and work in England.”
He nodded. “I am glad you understand that. Others do not. Well, well, we are grateful to you. You are as good as you are beautiful. Your uncle constantly sings your praises to me and to the members of the Congregation.”
“I am shocked by my uncle,” said Sonia demurely, somehow feeling free to speak to Rothschild in spite of his formidable reputation. “I had not thought he would put himself out to bore his friends.”
The bankers laughed, and Sonia smiled. She understood that this was all preliminary to whatever he had come to say.
She sat back, then, let the two men talk. Since obviously she had been invited to listen, she likely would have some part in a decision or later event. She was content to listen and watch their faces.
They spoke of the efforts of Viscount Wellington on the Peninsula, leading the British and Portuguese troops against Napoleon’s French invaders. Rothschild was doing his utmost to get gold bullion and specie to the British general to pay his soldiers. Rothschild turned to Sonia.
“You see, one of Napoleon’s great policies, which have worked for him so far, is to have his troops live off the land. His Frenchmen go foraging around the villages and countryside, stealing chickens, pigs, grain — all they can get — and live on it. In the German states, in Austria, this worked, because the farmers were prosperous. The land and its fruits fed them well. In Spain, it is a different matter.”
She had read of Spain, and wished she could see the beautiful buildings, the rare gardens and fountains, part of the Moorish legacy. “How is it different, sir?”
“In Spain, the people are very poor; the farmers are hard put to feed their own families. They have little to send to the towns. When the French ravaged the land, the farmers had little left. They complained bitterly, but Napoleon turned a deaf ear. Now some of the Spanish have turned guerrilla — that is, they hide in the mountains, and pounce on the French invaders. Spain is bitterly divided, especially since its own king no longer rules.”
They went on to speak of other matters there, and Sonia found it fascinating to hear two men speak knowledgeably of the far-off war as though they had been there. She had heard that Rothschild had his own couriers, and received information of battles even before the Prince of Wales or the king and his council. She could well believe it — he spoke softly but so definitely about what he knew. His eyes flashed with intelligence.
“Is more money needed to send to the Peninsula?” asked Meyer Goldfine. “We will be glad to give a loan on generous terms.”
“I thank you. It is not necessary. The British government will furnish the money, and gladly. The problem is getting the money to the port of Lisbon. We send it on ships, and the ships are sunk or captured. The French are keen to intercept. They know by instinct — or by paid informants! — which ships have gold on them.”
“But you have other means of getting the gold to them?” asked Sonia, before she knew she was going to speak. Her eyes flashed with interest and enthusiasm.
Rothschild turned to her. He studied her intently before he nodded. “We have our ways, yes. You will speak of this to no one but your uncle, my lady,” he added firmly.
“But of course! I will not speak of it to anyone.”
He studied her more thoroughly. “You speak several languages, I believe?” And he then addressed her in German. She answered fluently. He tried her in French, in which she was proficient. He nodded in pleasure.
“She also speaks Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, any language you can name,” said her uncle proudly.
Rothschild did not smile, nor seem to notice the interruption. He spoke to her in each language, finally in Hebrew, and was pleased by her answers.
She was more and more puzzled. Why had she been called in to listen to them, and to speak with them? She had been about to offer money to him, but he did not seem to require that. What could she give him for the cause of the English troops? She was not answered.
He rose at the end of two hours, thank
ed them for their company, and bowed over Sonia’s hand. After he had departed, Sonia returned to her room, for her uncle had sunk into meditation, his head on his hands.
She went home early that day, for tonight was a ball at the very home of the Prince of Wales, whom people thought would be named Prince Regent at any moment. The King of England was mad, so they said, and a ruler was needed while he remained ill. But no one could agree on what should be done, so matters lagged. Yet Prince George might one day be King George IV, and it was important to be in his favour.
Alastair was on the outer fringes of the society that clustered about the prince. He had been most pleased when he had received invitations for them all to attend the ball. And Sonia’s name had been on the invitations! She had scarcely believed it.
Surely the prince and his social secretaries would be aware of the fact that she was Jewish. She knew some of the lords were more tolerant of the Jews than their ladies. Was the prince one of them? Tonight she would find out.
She was anxious to appear well. She had hesitated over half a dozen of her finest dresses, only finally to discard them. At Alastair’s suggestion, she had selected a topaz silk taffeta with an overdress of sheer gold gauze. With it she wore topaz earrings, a delicate tiara of topaz and diamonds, and rings of topaz. When Leah had dressed her, the abigail turned her gently to look at herself in the full-length mirror.
“You look like a queen,” said Leah, proudly, her eyes flashing.
Like a Jewish bride, thought Sonia. Her dark curly hair was fastened high in the current style, with a coronet about her head and soft curls falling to her throat. The delicate jewellery set off her sensitive oval face, her red mouth, and her luminous grey eyes. She was taller than the average, and she carried herself beautifully.
Alastair’s valet tapped at the door, and then Alastair came in. He too looked splendid. He was grave and anxious at first, but then smiled at the sight of her.
“My dear, your appearance is perfection!” he said, taking her hand to kiss. He was magnificent himself in midnight- blue velvet, with the star sapphire on his hand. He seemed to wear it all the time now, she noted. She was shyly pleased.
He never came to her bedroom except formally, in the daytime. He did not come to her bed, and she had missed him sorely. Some coldness and reserve remained between them, ever since the episode when she had discovered the marriage settlement. Yet he was never other than kind and courteous to her.
“You shall be the centre of all eyes tonight,” he said.
“Oh, I hope not!” she said involuntarily.
He smiled, and gently teased her. “Are you so shy, then?”
“It is Henrietta’s first presentation to the prince. That is important,” she said, turning slightly away. Leah held a golden velvet cloak for her to slip about her slim shoulders, and she was ready.
They descended the stairs together. The butler murmured that Lady Barnstable was already waiting for them in the drawing room. Sonia knew that Maurice and her sisters-in-law would be late — they always were.
“You have the box?” she whispered to the butler. He bowed, took the beautifully wrapped golden box from the table, and carried it for her into the drawing room.
“Good evening, good evening,” cried Lady Barnstable. She was splendid in purple with her diamonds flashing. She raised her lorgnette critically to stare at Sonia. “Splendid, splendid! You look magnificent, and even more — beautiful!”
“Thank you very much.” Sonia still felt ill at ease with the lady, kind as she had been. She took the box from the butler. “I wished to give you something to remember this occasion. If you will be so kind as to accept this from — from all of us —” And she set the box on a small table beside the lady.
“Indeed, indeed, you are most kind, you are more kind,” said Lady Barnstable. She spoke in the slightly loud tones of one who was becoming deaf and refused to admit it. Neatly, she unwrapped the box, opened it, and stared inside. “Oh — my word — my word — whatever in the world —”
Sonia gazed at her anxiously. Would she like it? Would she refuse it? She must know Sonia had created the little gem-like garden.
“What is it?” asked Alastair curiously, stepping closer to peer into the box.
“Take it out, Alastair, I might drop it,” commanded Lady Barnstable. Alastair took it out with infinite care, seeing what it was, and set it on the table.
There it stood, the little gem-like flowers set in the rock crystal pot. Glittering in the firelight and the candlelight flashing, yet so beautiful and small and exquisite that the flowers seemed almost real. The lady put out her finger and touched them reverently, one after the other.
“I cannot believe it — I never saw anything like it — my dear gal, did you make it?” She turned abruptly on Sonia. Lady Barnstable’s flashing dark blue eyes looked almost tearful.
Sonia nodded. “I hoped it would please you, my lady,” she managed to say in her soft musical voice.
“Please me? Nothing could please me more!” she declared. “I shall set it on my bedside table, where I can see it night and day. How beautiful! Unusual! Never saw anything like it! Must have taken you months!”
It had taken much of her time for the past two months, but Sonia only smiled modestly without admitting that. She drew a deep breath of relief that it had been accepted. The others came in and exclaimed over the gift, looking at Sonia with awe that she could have created such a magnificent little flower pot of jewelled blooms.
Then it was time to go. There were only a few moments to admire everyone’s clothing and jewels. Maurice wore ice- blue velvet trimmed in gold, with his new gold studs. Edwina was in lilac silk, well suited to her gentle beauty, with sapphires in a small delicate tiara and a fragile necklace. Henrietta was in ivory satin as befitted a girl in her first season. Sonia had created a necklace of aquamarines and amethysts to set off her violet eyes. As they were chatting, and donning cloaks, she suddenly realized something.
All of them but herself were in blues and purples! She was the outsider, the odd one — in gold. Had it been on purpose?
No, no, she must not think so. But it did seem odd, the whole party matching and only Sonia looking different.
She swallowed her mean thoughts, concentrated on the thrills of the evening. They took two carriages to convey them to Carlton House. The lights of torches and the milling of carriages increased as they approached the Royal Crescent. Then they were being helped from the carriages by red-suited footmen, and walking up the broad stairs to the upper rooms. Sonia drew a deep breath. It could not be her, not Sonia Goldfine, going to dance and dine with the Prince Regent!
Inside, all was confusion. Alastair took charge, and kept them together. Their cloaks given over to the maids, they proceeded into the reception line to meet lords and ladies, princes and princesses. Soon Sonia was sweeping a curtsey before the prince himself.
She raised her eyes as she stood up, to find him gazing at her thoughtfully. He was heavier than she had thought, even after seeing unflattering cartoons of him. Yet there was kindness and courtesy in his heavy-set face, the thick jowls. He was splendidly dressed in velvet and silks, with diamonds on his hands. But it was the expression of his eyes that charmed her.
“Lord Fairley, where have you hidden your pretty wife?” asked the prince, smiling at Alastair and indicating Sonia. ‘Why have I not seen her before?”
Alastair bowed, pleased, and begged to present his youngest sister also. “This is her first season, Your Royal Highness. She has been most anxious to have the privilege of meeting you.”
The Prince smiled kindly at Henrietta and admonished her to enjoy her season. “Ah, to be so young and so lovely,” he sighed. “Enjoy every moment, my dear. Youth is so fleeting!”
He had other cordial remarks for Maurice and Edwina before turning to other guests pressing up behind them.
“How nice and friendly he is,” breathed Henrietta, stars in her violet eyes.
Their party mov
ed on into the crowded rooms, and mingled with the guests. Alastair seemed to recognize them all, and kept bowing and introducing Sonia and Henrietta to them. Sir Frederick Toland came up and spoke to Sonia.
“How pleasant to see you here, my lady,” he said.
Edwina was soon asked to dance by Sir Philip Ryan. Sonia was surprised to see Alastair frown after them. She had thought Sir Philip one of his closest friends, but tonight they were rather cold to each other. Some tiff?
No one asked Sonia to dance. She stood stiffly, shyly, colour burning her cheeks. She was conscious of the bright golden dress making her stand out. People was staring and whispering. Did they admire or disdain? She did not know, and dared not stare back at them.
Alastair asked her to dance, first making sure Henrietta was partnered. They moved into the stately pattern, making two of eight people in the set. She noted the ladies were staring at her again and she stiffened. The men bowed and moved her about. Soon she was back again with Alastair.
“Warm in here,” said Alastair. “The usual crush.” He sounded bored after the first flush of enthusiasm. She supposed he was quite used to such grand affairs.
He left her with Lady Barnstable at the side of the room, to go and procure some cool drinks for them from one of the footmen. Lady Barnstable made small chatter once they were alone, her bright eyes following first one and then another lady.
“Henrietta is doing nicely. A modest young miss,” she said, with satisfaction. “I dislike brazen females intensely.”
“Yes, so do I,” murmured Sonia, thinking of Mrs Daphne Porter with a shudder of distaste. She wondered how often Alastair went to her now.
“Edwina will make a fine wife. I must see about a young man for her. Anyone in the running?” asked Lady Barnstable.
Star Sapphire: Love and wild adventure in Regency England Page 13