Chapter 17 #2
“Don’t tell me,” he bid her. “I want to solve it myself.”
“Oh.” She made an apologetic face. “I fear you’ll find it difficult, since you won’t be familiar with several of them.”
“I may be familiar. Let’s see…a green stone comes first. Is it an emerald?”
“No.” Her eyes danced. “Do you give up?”
“Never!” He thought for a few seconds, then indeed gave up. “But do give me just the first answer, please.”
“Chalcedony.”
“Kal-se-what? Never would have reckoned that one. Is the first letter K or C?”
“It’s C.”
“Very well, next we have something blue. Sapphire?”
“No! Shall I tell you?”
Sighing, he nodded.
“Lapis lazuli.”
“Ah! Yes, now I recognize it. C—L. All right, now an iridescent green, or perhaps blue. Looks familiar, but…what is it?”
“An opal.”
“Aren’t opals white?”
She laughed. “It is white, if you look closely. But I wanted it to complement the other stones, so I chose one with lots of fire—that’s the shimmery blue-green that you see.”
“Huh. So we have C—L—O, and then comes another green one—though a bit of a bluer green—still, I shall guess emerald!”
“It’s vesuvianite—first discovered on Mount Vesuvius, you may be interested to know.”
“Indeed I am! By Jove, was I there just last month? Italy seems a lifetime ago.” He shook his head. “At any rate, that makes C—L—O—V, and yet another green stone comes next, so tell me it’s not an emerald.”
“But it is.”
“Well, I’ll be! And this one beside it is a sapphire?”
“Right again!”
“Only one more to go, then: C—L—O—V—E—S, and…oh, no! Has the last stone fallen out?”
“Actually, I never set it,” she admitted with a sheepish air. “I couldn’t, because I didn’t know what stone to use. But now I do.”
He raised his brows at this cryptic statement. “May I see it?”
“If you’re willing to wait a few minutes.”
Now he was downright confused. What did he have to wait for? He crossed his arms. “I cannot leave without solving the puzzle.”
“Very well, then,” she said with a laugh.
She moved to her workbench, where she opened a drawer and pulled out three large, very unusually shaped keys. Then she crossed the workshop to a tall, dark, equally unusual cabinet. It looked ancient and fancy and seemed to be made of…
“Is that cabinet made of iron?”
“Yes, indeed. It may look like a cabinet, but it’s a safe.”
He drew near to touch the cold metal. “It must weigh a ton.”
“I’d hazard it weighs even more—I cannot imagine trying to move it. I’m told it’s been sitting right in this spot since the early days of Charles the Second.”
Jonathan quickly calculated in his head. “A hundred and fifty years, give or take?”
“Um-hmm.”
She ran her fingers along some decorative pieces whilst he looked on curiously. By the time she finished, he’d worked out that she was finding concealed release mechanisms. Once she’d activated them all, three keyholes appeared.
“The keys have to be used in a certain order,” she explained as she raised the first of them. Completing the sequence took another minute or two. “And then...” There was a loud click. She pulled a hidden lever, and the door swung open. “Here we are.”
“Here we are,” he echoed, peeping over her shoulder. The safe was filled with orderly stacks of boxes and trays fashioned from wood, leather, and velvet.
She reached inside to remove a long, thin black leather box. “These are my colored stones,” she said, in answer to his unasked question. Beneath the flap cover lay a single neat row of small paper packets. She selected one, opened the precisely folded paper, and placed the contents in his hand.
“It’s beautiful.” He marveled at the large red heart-shaped gem. “Ruby?” he guessed.
“Correct. It’s flawless, so it deserves to be made into something very special.
I’ve been working on a pendant design.” She plucked it from his palm, her fingers flying as she refolded the paper around it in a complicated pattern.
Even having seen her do it, Jonathan doubted he could make such a parcel from a plain rectangle of paper.
She replaced the packet and flipped through a dozen or more. On the fronts, Jonathan glimpsed nonsensical numbers in tiny, precise handwriting. With a smile and a nod, she finally pulled one out and unfolded it, revealing a much smaller polished stone of opaque green.
“It’s jade,” she told him, tipping the smooth domed oval into his palm. “A perfect cabochon—and just the right size to serve as the last stone in my ring.”
“Jade…” He thought for a moment before the answer came to him. “If C stands for Claire, could your ring spell out Claire…l-o-v-e-s…Jonathan?”
She grinned. “You solved it. Well done!”
“And with so little help from you,” he deadpanned, making her giggle.
But the secret he’d deciphered touched him deep inside. To think she’d chosen that message to wear always…
“Claire loves Jonathan,” he repeated, feeling his heart swell. Somehow the words hit differently standing in a workshop than they had in a passionate embrace. “Does she?”
“She does.” Wearing a mischievous smile, she dropped into a deep curtsy. “I love you, your grace.”
This time, he couldn’t chide her for the your grace. He was too busy marveling at how everything had worked out. “I love you, too.”
He held the jade stone up to the band still encircling his pinky. As he admired the effect, she moved closer to do the same.
“It’s a perfect wedding ring,” he declared, sliding the band off. “May I put it on you?”
“No,” she cried on a laugh, “not before the wedding.”
“Why not?” He reached for her hand. “I just want to see how it looks.”
Evading him, she snatched the ring back. “It would be bad luck!”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow,” she agreed, smiling into his eyes.
He wanted to kiss her. But since that was bound to lead to a long delay, he drew away from her instead—and stumbled backwards into a stool, toppling its feline occupant.
“Jonathan!” Claire gasped.
Windmilling his arms, he managed to regain his balance. “I’m all right,” he mumbled. “Poor Kippers—”
“He’s fine, he landed on his feet,” she said tersely. “Where’s the cabochon?”
“Hmm?”
“The cabochon!” she raised her voice. “The jade stone! Have you still got it?”
“Oh! It’s—yes, here it is.” He showed her the little stone in his palm.
“Thank heaven!” She plucked it from him, then sagged in relief with a hand over her heart. “Horsefeathers, that was close! For certain it would have fallen between the floorboards! What a miracle you kept hold of it.”
He gave a modest shrug. “Seems we’ve got luck on our side.”
“I suppose we must,” she agreed with a weak laugh. “Still, this is the only ‘J’ stone I have that will fit, so I should like to get it set before something else happens…”
“Of course. And I must go to Wilson. I may be some time arranging everything for his journey, but I shall come to you as soon as I can.”
“You’d better.” Already seated at her workbench, she blew him a kiss. “I won’t wait all night.”