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Sapphire heard her father move in his chair and turned to see him produce a small, worn wooden chest. “This is your mother’s casket,” he said quietly, opening it and removing a black velvet bag. “And this—” he carefully removed an object from it “—is the gift she saved for you.”
Sapphire gasped in awe at the sight of the stunning sapphire that was as large as a walnut, sparkling bright in the lamplight. “For me?” she whispered as she stepped forward to take it from his hand. It was cool in her palm, yet it seemed to radiate a warmth that surprised her.
Armand closed the lid on the box. “Inside are also letters from your father to your mother. Love letters, I would assume.” He shook his head, suddenly seeming sad. “I never read them, not even after her death. She had never offered to allow me to read them.”
“They’re for me?” Sapphire asked.
He nodded.
“And then what happened?” Sapphire asked again. “Please tell me, Aunt Lucia.”
“Well, the couple spent a magical night together and then parted, he to travel to London to tell his family of his marriage and she to her father’s cottage to inform him of her good fortune.” She turned from the window, folding her hands together. “But Edward’s father, the Earl of Wessex, was not pleased his son had married a country girl, a girl without title or wealth.”
Sapphire hung her head. “The family would not accept the marriage.”
“Indeed not. According to your mother, the Earl of Wessex was very angry because he had already chosen a bride for his son, a bride from a family with great affluence and a proper lineage,” Lucia said, lifting her forefinger that sported a wide, spiraled gold ring. “And so he sent a representative to Sophie to say that his son had made a mistake and wanted to have the marriage annulled.”
“But Sophie knew it couldn’t be true,” Sapphire said, almost feeling her mother’s pain in her own chest.
Angelique met Sapphire’s gaze, seeming to feel her pain, as well.
“Sophie knew.” Lucia nodded solemnly. “And when the young Sophie could not be persuaded to sign the annulment —not even for money—and when she to threatened to go to London herself and find her beloved Edward, Lord Wessex began to fear the country girl. So…he had her kidnapped.”
“Poor Mama,” Sapphire sighed. She could not imagine that such a thing happened to her soft-spoken, timid mother. “Please go on,” she whispered after a moment of silence.
“So…” Lucia took a breath. “Sophie found herself in the hold of a ship for the journey across the Atlantic Ocean, abandoned on the docks of New Orleans. Lord Wessex had so feared the country girl who had stolen his son’s heart that he sent her all the way to America.”
“I cannot believe it,” Angelique murmured.
Sapphire closed her eyes, remembering her mother before she had become ill and hollow-cheeked, and then she tried to imagine what Sophie must have looked like when she was eighteen.
“Sophie was without money or food or a place to live, and by then she knew she was carrying a child.”
“Edward’s baby,” Sapphire said, still finding it all so hard to believe. “Me.”
“She was carrying you,” Lucia continued, “and though she still had possession of the sapphire Edward had given her—safely sewn in the hem of her only gown—she refused to sell it, for she knew it would mean her child’s legacy. Instead, she sought employment. She was hired as a cook in a tavern in the French Quarter and slept in the attic above the kitchen, but when the evidence of her condition began to show—”
“They put her out on the street,” Angelique guessed angrily. “It’s always that way.”
“They did, but Sophie would not be defeated, because even after all she had been through, she knew in her heart that Edward had loved her and she knew that the baby she carried would be with her always—even if she and Edward could never be together again. Determined to protect her child, Sophie sought work in the only place a pregnant woman without a husband or proper guardian could find employment. She found a kind madam and good friends there.”
“You,” Sapphire s
aid.
“It’s where we met and instantly became sisters, the dairy maid turned fallen woman and the dockside London whore,” Lucia said proudly. “And there Sophie’s daughter was born.”
“I can’t believe you kept this from me,” Sapphire said, turning to Armand, the jewel clasped tightly in her hand.
“It was important to your mother that you be loved, that you know the love of two parents.” He sat back, the casket on his lap. “As time passed, the lie seemed to become truth. After a while, I began to forget that you were not the child of my blood.”
“Your mother gave birth to a beautiful girl, born with her mother’s red hair and her father’s eyes, one blue and one green.”
Sapphire drew her hand to her mouth and inhaled sharply at this revelation. She had asked her mother many times why she had one blue eye and one green when her mother’s and Armand’s eyes were brown, and the response had always been simply that children took after many relatives. Now she knew the truth.
“And Sophie named her daughter Sapphire.” Lucia’s eyes now shone with unshed tears in remembrance, “for the gift her father had given them. And Sophie went about her life, determined to give her daughter a better life than she had known. She dreamed that she and her daughter would some day return to England to find Edward so they would be reunited, and their little girl would be given the name and recognition she always deserved.”
Sapphire sat again on the footstool, feeling more than a little light-headed. “And that’s why you want me to go to London now, Papa—to find my father?”
