The Christmas Tart
It began with a ring. One day late in November 1809, the irritable Lady Guthrie was careless when she searched through her lacquered jewelry case for the best ornaments to adorn her scrawny person. The heirloom diamond ring that had come from her husband’s family was valuable but ugly, and she brushed it aside impatiently as she searched for more attractive treasures.
Amidst the clinking of baubles, she didn’t notice when the ring tumbled from the case, rolled unevenly across the lace-covered surface of the dressing table, then dropped into the narrow gap between table and wall. Halfway to the floor, the heavy ring hooked over a wooden peg that had worked loose until it projected from the back of the table.
And there the ring stayed, suspended, not to be found until the next year’s spring cleaning. But by then Christmas had come and gone, and so had the young French seamstress.
* * *
A cold, heavy sky made the afternoon seem more like dusk, and it was difficult for Nicole Chambord to see the riding jacket that she was trimming. Closing her eyes for a moment, she laid the jacket down and straightened up, stretching her arms in an effort to relieve the strain on her back and neck.Sacré bleu!but she would be glad when Christmas was over.
During the month Nicole had been sewing for Lady Guthrie, she had not had a single afternoon off. Every night she worked late by candlelight to complete everything her ladyship deemed necessary for the holidays. While Lady Guthrie’s important clothing was done by an expensive modiste, there were many lesser items, such as chemises and undergowns, that could be made by a household seamstress.
And of course there was always mending, refurbishing older garments, and making shirts and cravats for Sir Wilfrid, the master of the house. Nicole had sewed so much that she wore white cotton gloves to prevent her sore, pricked fingers from bleeding onto valuable fabric.
Still, food in the Guthrie establishment was abundant, if bland, and most of the other servants were pleasant. Best of all, Nicole was now living in London, closer to her goal than she had been in Bristol, where she had lived for fourteen years.
Come spring, she would look for a situation with a fashionable dressmaker who would be willing to take advantage of an assistant’s design skills. Someday, after much hard work and saving of money, Nicole would open a shop of her own calledNicole’s, or perhapsMadame Chambord’s.
She luxuriated in the thought for a moment before she sighed and returned to her work. The happy day when she would be self-employed was many years away. Just now, her task was to use her nearly invisible stitches to attach military-style braid to the jacket in her lap.
She was just finishing the job when the butler, Furbes, swept into the small workroom without knocking. “Her ladyship wishes to speak with you, Chambord,” he snapped. “Immediately.”
“Of course,” Nicole murmured. She was unalarmed by his manner, for Furbes was always rude to his inferiors, and Lady Guthrie was always in a hurry. Likely her ladyship had decided that a project she had wanted completed tomorrow must instead be done today. It would not be the first time.
But instead of normal impatience, Nicole found disaster. As the French girl entered Lady Guthrie’s bedroom, her mistress spun around to glare at her. “You stole the Guthrie diamond ring,” she said furiously. “What have you done with it?”
Nicole was so shocked that for a moment her usually nimble tongue was paralyzed. “But no, my lady, I have never seen your ring, nor have I taken even a candle stub from your room. Could the ring have been misplaced?”
“It’s gone.” Lady Guthrie gestured at her abigail, who looked distressed. “Merkle has searched everywhere, including all the drawers and the floor under the dressing table. And tonight we dine with my husband’s family, and his mother will want to know why I don’t wear it!”
Still not quite believing the accusation, Nicole said in bewilderment, “I am sorry if your mother-in-law will be upset, but why are you accusing me? There are a dozen servants in this house, or a thief could have broken in and robbed you. I swear on my mother’s grave that I have stolen nothing from you.”
“Any thief who broke in would have taken the whole case, not just the ring. All my other servants have been with me for years. You’ve been here less than a month, and you’re clever. I saw that right away. You probably thought I wouldn’t notice if only a single piece of jewelry was missing, especially one I almost never wear. You’ve had ample opportunity, because you often work alone in this room,” Lady Guthrie retorted. “As soon as I thought of you, I had your room searched, and Furbes found the proof hidden under your mattress.”
She lifted a leather pouch from her dressing table, then dropped it again, the coins inside clinking as the pouch hit the tabletop. “Over fifty pounds! Where could you get such a sum except by theft?”
Nicole stared in horror at the bag that contained her life savings. “For years I have spent nothing on myself so I could save every shilling possible.” All of it dedicated to the dream of a future. “Surely if I had stolen your precious diamond ring, I would have more money than that.”
“Stolen goods go for only a fraction of their true value.” Lady Guthrie’s faded blue eyes narrowed triumphantly. “And just how did you know the ring was a diamond?”
“Because you said so yourself!” Nicole exclaimed, feeling as if she had wandered into Bedlam. “Mon Dieu, your ladyship, if you have been robbed, call a magistrate! I am not afraid to be questioned, for I am innocent.”
Before Lady Guthrie could respond, her maid Merkle said hesitantly, “Perhaps the chit is telling the truth, my lady. Her references were splendid. She has always done her work well, with not a shred of complaint from anyone. There is no proof that she took the ring.”
Nicole could have kissed the other servant for her bravery in speaking up, but it did no good.
Her employer’s mouth tightened to a harsh line. “Bah, she belongs in Newgate. But if she blinks those big brown eyes at the magistrate, I don’t suppose she’ll get what she deserves so there’s no point in turning her over to the law.” Lady Guthrie scowled as she decided what to do. “You’re dismissed right now, girl, without a reference.”
She lifted the pouch again, her bony fingers digging into the thin leather. “This I will keep as compensation for your theft.”
Appalled, Nicole gasped, “How dare you! That is my money and if you take it, it is you who are the thief!”
“Don’t speak to her ladyship like that, you little slut,” Furbes ordered. The butler had been a silent witness to the exchange, but now he grasped Nicole’s shoulder with cruel pressure. “Shall I allow her to gather her belongings, my lady, or put her out on the street as she is?”
“Let her gather her things, but watch to see that she doesn’t try to take anything else,” Lady Guthrie decided. Turning back to Nicole, she said viciously, “You can thank the fact that it’s almost Christmas for my mercy, girl.”
And that was that. Ten minutes later, still dazed by the swiftness of events, Nicole was standing in the alley behind the house, having been escorted out the kitchen door by Furbes. Everything she owned in the world was in a canvas bag slung over her shoulder.
