The Jewels of Sofia Tate (4 page)

“Only a few weeks left. I'll be going to Wilfrid Laurier in the fall.”

“What will you be studying?” Elizabeth asked, handing them each a glass.

“Business.”

“Handsome
and
bright,” Elizabeth said. “That's how Albert was, too.”

Dan tipped back the glass and emptied it in a couple of gulps before setting it next to the sink. “That was great. Thanks for the lemonade. I hate to rush, but I've got a few more deliveries to make this morning.”

Elizabeth reached into the pocket of her dress. “Here's a little something for you,” she said, holding out a ten-dollar bill. But Dan made no attempt to take it.

“Mrs. Tate, you know you don't have to tip me. The store pays me to do this.”

“Danny, we go through this every time. Take it and make an old woman happy. An education costs a lot of money nowadays.”

“But Mrs. Tate —”

“No 'buts.' It's yours.” Elizabeth grasped his hand, placed the money inside, and closed his fingers over top. “There now, was that so difficult?” she said, appearing quite pleased with herself.

After Dan left, Gerdie put the groceries away while Elizabeth showed Garnet the rest of the main floor. To the right of the front hall, French doors opened into a formal dining room with an elegant crystal chandelier that hung over the centre of an elaborately carved cherry-wood table. Against one wall stood a large wooden sideboard with upper glass panels displaying silverware, crystal glasses, and china, and on the opposite wall hung a wide oil painting of Jesus and his disciples at the Last Supper.

At the end of the hall to the left, beyond the living room, Elizabeth opened another door. “Reginald's library,” she said.

Despite the light fixture at the top of the high ceiling, the room was dim and rather dreary with its reddish brown walls and green velvet drapes over the windows. A dark wooden desk with a high-backed brown leather chair stood in the centre of the floor, facing the door, and volumes of books lined the entire wall behind it, on either side of the fireplace. As Garnet became accustomed to the dark surroundings, she noticed an interesting carving in the centre of the mahogany mantel of a young man playing the harp, and above, on the mantelpiece, a hand-painted clock with silver hands.

“Except for a few changes, it's nearly the way Reginald left it,” Elizabeth said. “I actually don't come in here very often. Something about this room has always made me feel uncomfortable. Maybe it's because Reginald used to spend so much time in here.” Elizabeth looked up at the mirror above the mantelpiece. “There used to be a different mirror here. It was so tarnished you could hardly see yourself in it. I changed it years ago when I was trying to keep the house nice for Albert's return.”

As Garnet looked at the mirror, the reflection of another face unexpectedly caught her attention. She
turned her head and was drawn to a life-sized portrait that hung on the wall behind her. She went to stand before it.

In front of a midnight-blue background sat a beautiful young woman painted in tones so luminous she appeared almost lifelike. Light somehow seemed to emanate from the woman herself so that her skin glowed, and Garnet had to resist the urge to reach up and touch the canvas. Her hair was pulled back from her face, allowing coppery curls to spill onto her white shoulders. Her expression was serene, with lips parted like a rosebud about to open. In the crook of her right arm she held a spray of waxen white lilies. Her elegant gown, the same colour as her round, violet eyes, was adorned with just a fringe of beadwork and lace under the scooped neckline. And resting under her creamy white neck was a blue sapphire, the size of a small egg, with alternating diamonds and sapphires travelling up the length of the chain. Dangling from her earlobes were smaller sapphires surrounded by diamonds, and on her left hand, a ring — the same one Garnet had noticed Elizabeth wearing the day before.

Elizabeth's came to stand next to Garnet. “Sofia Tate. Albert's mother. A shame I never met the woman. She died when Albert was just a baby. He looked a lot like her with the red curls. A lovely portrait, I think.
Perhaps even a little intriguing. Somehow, she seems to be watching.”

Garnet felt a chill run down her spine. She could almost
feel
her watching. Her eyes rested on the sapphire pendant. “Are those the jewels you mentioned?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes, but not the ring. It's not part of the original set. Albert gave it to me for our engagement but I never saw the necklace or earrings. Do you see this tiny sparkle?” she asked, pointing to the pendant in the picture.

Garnet nodded.

“I have always thought this detail to be interesting. The artist captured the reflection of light on the sapphire as a miniature shining star. I once read that a sapphire refuses to shine if worn by the wicked or impure. It is a symbol of truth, sincerity, and faithfulness, and its rays represent faith, hope, and destiny. They used to believe that the sapphire not only had healing powers, but that it would attract divine favour and protect the wearer from harm.”

Garnet was silent for a moment as she thought about Elizabeth's words, then asked, “Why did you call the jewels 'royal'?”

“Well, that is a long story,” Elizabeth replied. “Perhaps we should sit in the living room where it's more comfortable.”

Garnet curled her feet under her legs and settled back onto the burgundy sofa. As she brushed away a bit of yellow-brown fur, she was reminded of the cat.

“Where's Ginger?” she asked. “I haven't seen her today.”

Elizabeth sighed. “Locked in the upstairs bedroom. Gerdie doesn't care for poor Ginger, and Ginger seems to know this and bothers her even more by rubbing her body around Gerdie's ankles relentlessly. Gerdie tripped over her one day, so now when she comes, we put her upstairs in one of the bedrooms or outside.”

Elizabeth eased her plump body into the armchair and pulled her green and white skirt over her knees. “Now, where were we? Ah, yes. The jewels. Albert once told me a little of his family history and I will try and retell it as best as I can. In 1895,” she began, “when Sofia's father, Johann Schelling, was twenty-one years old, he set out from Germany and travelled to Russia to apprentice with his uncle, a talented clockmaker and jeweller. His uncle's work was of the finest quality, attracting wealthy customers from all around, but mainly the Russian nobility. Johann seemed to have inherited this talent for the craft and was determined to learn all he could from his uncle.

“Johann had been there for several months when one day, Sofia's mother, Marie, entered the shop with her father, Count Mikhail Ivanov, who came to have his watch repaired. The moment Johann's and Marie's eyes met, there was a spark between them. But it was the following week, when Marie returned to the shop with her father to collect the watch, that Johann and Marie realized their destiny. They were left alone for a few minutes while Johann's uncle showed the count some works in progress in the back of the shop, and knew they were in love. But it seemed their love was doomed. Marie was already engaged to be married, and Johann was of the wrong class.”

Garnet frowned. “Wasn't she in love with the guy she was supposed to marry?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “It seems not. The man she was to marry was chosen by her father. It was an arranged marriage, you see, to the wealthy Count Vladimir Uvorov, who was twenty years older than her. The problem was that Count Mikhail Ivanov had spent a lot of money — more than he actually had — and his debts were piling up. Count Uvorov would help him financially if he could marry his daughter. It was, therefore, Marie's duty to marry the man to help her father out. Although Marie had told her father that she did not wish to marry this man, her father would
not listen, and she had no one to turn to for help. Her mother, the Countess Elena Ivanov, a distant relative to the Russian Imperial family, had died the year before and her selfish brother, Aleksei, agreed with his father. After all, he stood to inherit the title of
count,
the estate, and all of his father's belongings, so his sister's marriage would be in his best interests.”

“Poor Marie!” Garnet exclaimed.

“Poor Marie, indeed. But those were the times,” Elizabeth explained. “Anyway, the wedding to Count Uvorov was two weeks away and Marie knew she didn't have much time. The following day she met Johann in secret and, over the next few, invented numerous excuses to go to the city — she needed final dress fittings for the wedding, she needed a few more items for her trousseau.... She just had to see Johann again. But it did not take long before the Count Mikhail Ivanov discovered their meetings. He forbade her to ever see Johann again and the coachmen were not allowed to take her anywhere unless she was accompanied by himself or her brother.

“Marie had a servant deliver a message to Johann explaining the situation, and Johann replied, saying that if she loved him, she should pack her things and meet him the next day before dawn. They would elope, five days before her marriage to Count Uvorov was to take place. So, before it was light, she set off on one of the
horses. She did not bring much with her — only a change of clothes, a string of pearls, and a set of jewellery: the diamonds and sapphires, which she had sewn into the lining of her coat the previous evening. The priceless family heirlooms had belonged to her own mother, who had given them to Marie the year before on her eighteenth birthday.

“The young lovers met and fled Russia. They boarded a train and headed for Germany, where they married and lived with Johann's parents for a time. But one day a letter arrived from Johann's uncle. It seemed that some masked men had been to the uncle's shop and were looking for the couple. Johann's uncle swore to them that he didn't know where they were, but they beat him anyway. The letter warned that if the couple was there, they should go into hiding immediately since the men would likely kill Johann and bring Marie back to Russia with them, along with the jewellery she had purportedly stolen.”

Garnet shifted in her seat. “So where did they go?”

“As far away as possible. To Canada. They sold the pearls and bought tickets for the ship passage over. With the little money that Johann had set aside, and with some that his father had given him, they set sail, bringing with them the sapphire jewels, a crucifix, and the hope that they would never be found by Marie's family in the new land.

“When they landed in Montreal, they soon heard of a place called Berlin in Ontario, where people spoke German. They decided to go there and Johann quickly found work at a furniture factory. It wasn't long before he had enough money to rent a modest home — just large enough to set up a clock- and watch-repair shop on the lower level. You may not know, dear, being new to the city, but Berlin is today called Kitchener.

“Marie and Johann settled into their new life and Sofia was born in 1898. She was a lovely child and they were as happy as could be under the circumstances. But, as you know, sometimes happiness doesn't last. Sofia was only a few years old when Marie became ill and was diagnosed with a blood disorder. She lived for several more years but in that time suffered a succession of ailments, which only worsened her condition. By the time she died, a lot of the money earned from the business had gone to pay for medical bills, and Johann was left in debt.”

“In debt?” Garnet asked. “But what about the sapphire jewels? Couldn't he have sold them to pay the bills?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Marie made Johann promise never to sell them or separate them. As a trained jeweller, he could have broken up the set and sold the pieces in various settings, but he did not do this. He respected his wife's wish that the jewels be passed along
as an heirloom to their daughter. So, Marie never wore the jewels for fear of being found, and they were never sold because of the promise.

“Sofia was fourteen years old when her mother died. She left school to look after the house and mind the shop when customers came in. But now that they no longer had to look after Marie, Johann stepped up business by making more clocks and also began to deal in art, selling the paintings of a few local young artists. He seemed to have an eye for beautiful things. He also made unique custom jewellery and, over time, word began to spread of his fine work.

“Then, one day, Reginald entered the shop to have his watch repaired. Still a bachelor at age thirty-four, twice Sofia's age, he was struck by her beauty and her lovely red curls. Even though this was during the First World War, the fact that he was British and she was of German descent made no difference. She enchanted him. When he asked for her hand in marriage, she accepted, and Reginald asked Johann to design and make a sapphire ring for their engagement.”

Garnet wrinkled her nose. “Kind of old for her, wasn't he?”

“Things were different then,” Elizabeth explained. “Especially for girls. They married and had children at a much younger age than nowadays. Sofia was eighteen
when she married in 1916 and Albert was born the following year, but once again, happiness was shortlived. Tragedy struck in October 1918 when the Spanish influenza epidemic took Sofia's life. It was a miracle that Albert and Reginald were spared, because many died. Reginald never completely overcame his loss. He never remarried and Albert was raised with the help of a nanny and then the housekeeper.”

“But what about Johann? What happened to him?” Garnet asked.

Elizabeth's expression became grim and Garnet thought for a moment that he had died then, too, but her next words surprised her. “He survived the flu. In fact, he went on to become quite successful, at least until the Depression. Even then, he had enough money set aside so that he was never poor. And Albert ... well, he became the apple of his grandfather's eye. They adored each other. But one night in the winter of 1939, several months before I met Albert, something very horrible happened.” Elizabeth paused as she turned her head and gazed unseeing through the window. Garnet waited for her to continue and soon wondered if she would ever hear the rest of the story.