“Really. May I see it?”
“Right now?” She twisted her wrists from his grasp and squeezed his hands with hers. “I’d love to show it to you, but we’d have to go to my workshop.”
Jonathan glanced at the longcase clock and did some mental math. “I could let Wilson sleep a little longer.”
They bid the remaining revelers good night and departed the drawing room, hand in hand, heading down a long corridor and passing by the kitchen stores to enter her workshop.
Jonathan had only come here a couple of times before. It was a spare room furnished with two large workbenches—one covered with the in-progress works of Elizabeth’s floral art, the other with Claire’s jewelry-making things—and myriad shelves stacked with supplies for a dozen other feminine crafts, all of which the Greystone ladies excelled at.
“Happy Christmas, Kippers,” Jonathan said, petting the tabby curled up on a stool by the door.
“Here it is.” Looking self-conscious, Claire placed a ring on his outstretched palm.
Jonathan raised it to eye level for a close examination. A line of oval gemstones marched across the slender gold band, trimmed with astonishingly detailed and delicate gold-work. Jonathan recognized the gold-work as filigree (having learned all about such things from Claire last year). He gave a low whistle.
She smiled. “Does that mean you approve?”
“Wholeheartedly.” He tried the ring on his pinky finger; it only went over the first knuckle. “Makes Granny’s boring old ring look like a rusty screw-nut.”
“Jonathan!” She cuffed him on the shoulder.
“It does, though. I’ll never understand how you can make such teeny little designs—no, don’t explain it to me again!” he added quickly over her indrawn breath. “I just mean that you’re incredibly talented.”
She blushed prettily. “Thank you.”
Rotating the band to admire each stone, he remarked, “I don’t think I’ve seen a ring like this before, with every jewel a different color. It’s unusual, isn’t it?”
“In England, yes. It’s an acrostic ring, a new fashion from Paris. Each gemstone represents a letter, so that taken together they spell out a secret message.”
“That’s clever.” Jonathan had always been impressed by how much thought she put into her pieces. Never content simply making a pretty trinket, she was constantly seeking out new techniques and innovations. “How do I decipher the message?”
“Nothing tricky—it’s just the initial of each stone. The first one is?—”
“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?”
