Read Online Shades of Earl Grey by Laura Childs - Free Book Online

Sophia, when Archduke Ferdinand of Austria was assassinated in 1914. And Theodosia was utterly entranced by the jeweled flamingo pin that had been commissioned by the Duke of Windsor and worn by Wallis, his life-long love and the Duchess of Windsor.
    All thoughts of burglars and thieves creeping through the night vanished from Theodosia’s mind as she gazed in wonder at the radiant treasures that occupied the glass cases in the small, dark room. Lit from above with pinpoint spotlights to highlight the radiance of the gemstones, the jewelry simply dazzled the eye.
    As Theodosia gazed in wonderment, she was suddenly aware of Timothy Neville, the venerable old president of the Heritage Society, standing at her side.
    At age eighty-one, Timothy was not just the power behind the Heritage Society, but also a denizen of the historic district, first violin of the Charleston Symphony, collector of antique pistols, and proud possessor of a stunning mansion on Archdale Street that was furnished with equally stunning paintings, tapestries, and antiques. And interestingly enough, all that knowledge and power was contained in a small man, barely one hundred forty pounds, who had a bony, simian face, yet possessed the grace and poise of an elder statesman.
    â€œThis is an absolutely stunning show, Timothy,” said Theodosia.
    Timothy Neville smiled, revealing a mouth full of small, pointed teeth. Any compliment directed at the Heritage Society was a personal triumph for Timothy. But it was not just ego that drove him, it was a sense of satisfaction that the Heritage Society had once again fulfilled its mission.
    â€œThe show will be even more spectacular once the complete installation is in place,” replied Timothy Neville. “As you can see, we’ve only just utilized this one room. The furniture, decorative arts, and paintings will be displayed in the back two galleries.”
    Theodosia pointed to a necklace that featured an enormous pear-shaped sapphire accented by smaller sapphires. “This blue sapphire necklace is stunning,” she told him.
    â€œAnd the provenance is absolutely fascinating,” replied Timothy.
    Intrigued, Theodosia bent forward and read the description for what they were calling the Blue Kashmir necklace. “Originally worn by an Indian maharajah, then purchased in the twenties and made into a necklace by Marjorie Merriweather Post, the breakfast cereal heiress,” she read aloud. “Wow.”
    â€œMost people take jewelry at face value,” said Timothy, smiling faintly at his small joke. “What they don’t realize it that jewelry is often an intrinsic part of history as well. Jewelry speaks to us, tells a story.”
    Timothy pointed to a case that contained a stunning group of black and gold brooches and pins. “Take this mourning jewelry, for example. Belonged to Queen Victoria. After Prince Albert died of typhoid fever in 1861, the old girl was so distraught she went into mourning for the next three decades. In fact, her mourning policy was so strict that she allowed only black stones to be worn in the English court. Jet, onyx, bog oak, that type of thing, set in silver and gold.”
    â€œI had no idea,” said Theodosia.
    â€œMost people don’t,” replied Timothy.
    Theodosia turned to face him. “I’m sorry if we alarmed you,” she said. “About the possibility of a jewel thief.”
    Timothy grimaced, pulled his slight body to his full height. Dressed in his European-cut tuxedo, he looked like a martinet, but his eyes were kind. “Yes, Drayton was in a bit of a flap over the accident at the Lady Goodwood Inn the other night. Who knows what really happened, eh? The police are investigating, are they not?”
    â€œYes, they are,” said Theodosia. “At least I hope they are.”
    â€œThen I suppose we’ll have to wait and see what their assessment of the situation really is,” replied Timothy.