The Trinket

It was a dark and stormy night, the kind of night when neither humans nor beasts ventured outdoors unless necessary. The wind roared and ululated around Ottawa’s houses and the rain made the streets look like silvery rivulets. Only a few cars were seen on the road, most of them black limousines.

The rain soaked estate looked beautiful even now, with all the lights turned on and guests dressed in their best attire attending a lavish party at Rideau Hall, the residence of the Governor General of Canada.

“What a night for a party,” the American Ambassador said when he greeted the Governor General, Madame Beaubien.

“It was good of you to come, Ambassador. You must be familiar with the Canadian climate by now.”

“Have you met my wife, Caroline?” the Ambassador asked.

“No, I haven’t had the pleasure until now,” Madame Beaubien said. “I haven’t had this job for long, you know.”

The Ambassador nodded and continued to the reception hall where drinks and canapés were served. He put his arm around Caroline and started introducing her to the assembled senators, members of parliament, and ambassadors from other countries. About twenty years older than his young wife, he seemed to be protective of her. 

As was usual at this time of year, the horrid weather was the topic of conversation and the icebreaker among people who didn’t know each other well.

“I wish Caroline would go with me to more embassy parties,” Ambassador Trowbridge said to someone. “The food is always good and the people delightful.” 

“I’ll try, Angus. But there is a party almost every evening, and I like to spend some time at home.”

“Yes, you like home so much that you get on a plane and head for Paris every chance you get.”

Ambassador Trowbridge gave his wife’s shoulder a possessive squeeze.

“Haven’t you seen the Arc de triomphe enough times by now? Or is it Dior that attracts you?”

“Monsieur Dior is dead.”

Caroline’s voice was almost inaudible above the animated conversation and the din of clinking cocktail glasses. 

“Isn’t that little black number you’re wearing from Dior?” the Ambassador asked. “It looks familiar.”

An older senator’s wife looked amused at the interchange between the two.

“You look lovely, my dear,” she said with an admiring glance at Caroline’s slender figure. “Black becomes you, and you don’t spoil the effect by wearing too many jewels.”

Caroline’s hand flew to her throat and she touched the pearls that adorned it.  She blushed and her eyes had a soft look when she heard the compliment.

“I’m Mrs. Stanbury,” the older woman introduced herself. “Do you see the tall man who just came in on the right side of the door, over there?”

Caroline shot a look toward the door and turned back to gaze at her companion.

“Yes, I do. He looks Russian. Do you know him?”

“Oh, yes. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but he’s known as Mr. Know-It-All behind his back. His name is Roman Dantinoff.”

“Why does he have such a nickname?”  Caroline asked. 

“You should have seen him show off last week at the Bulgarian Embassy.  He held forth in a loud voice and told everybody there was nothing he didn’t know.  Quite ridiculous, really.  No wonder people make fun of him. But the strange thing is that he does seem to know a great deal about many things.  Maybe somebody will test him tonight as they did at the Bulgarian party.” 

“Who is he?  Is he a politician or an ambassador?”

“Oh, no,” Mrs. Stanbury laughed.  “I believe he’s a jeweller.  He’s somebody’s relative, and that’s why he’s included in some of these parties.  I think it's time for us to go in to supper.  Coming, Mrs. Trowbridge?” 

Mrs, Stanbury took the younger woman’s elbow and steered her toward the dining room to find their husbands.  Many people had already found their place cards and were seated around tables for six.  As Caroline sat down next to her husband, she could hear Mr. Dantinoff’s loud voice as he was explaining something about golf to one of the guests. 

“You should circulate more, Caroline,” Angus said.  “Try this salmon mousse, it's good, and you don’t eat enough.”

Caroline didn’t answer but sampled her mousse and looked around at the gathering. She blushed at all the admiring glances cast her way, as she lowered her gaze to her plate. She wished this dull evening would end soon and they could leave. But Angus was a gregarious man and engaged in lively conversation with the woman on his other side.

“Why, good evening, Mr. Trowbridge, I didn’t see you earlier.” 

Caroline looked up on hearing the voice and saw Mr. Dantinoff standing by their table.  Angus rose to his feet to shake his hand. 

“We met last week at the Bulgarian embassy.  I’m Roman Dantinoff.” 

“I remember, Mr. Dantinoff.  You were most entertaining that evening, and impressed all of us with your vast knowledge of precious stones.” 

“Well, I’ve been in the business for a number of years,” Mr. Dantinoff said.  “I came over because I couldn’t help but notice you’re wife’s magnificent necklace.  It's been a long time since I’ve seen pearls as beautiful as these.”

“I know you’re almost never mistaken, but this once you must be.  My wife bought them at a small sea side resort a few years ago,” the Ambassador said with a smile. 

“That’s true, Mr. Dantinoff,” Caroline said. “It was drizzling that day, and since my friend and I couldn’t go to the beach, we decided to do some shopping.” 

“At a small resort? Impossible, my dear lady. May I examine your necklace?”

“It's only a trinket,” the Ambassador said. “I don’t understand why Caroline is so fond of it.”

He turned to his wife.

“You have many real jewels you could wear, lovely things I have given you over the years. Go ahead, let Mr. Dantinoff examine your necklace.” 

Slowly, Caroline’s hand rose and patted the necklace while her other hand crept around her neck to the clasp. She handed the necklace to her husband who handed it to Mr. Dantinoff.

“Thank you.”  Mr. Dantinoff paused and looked at the pearls.  With a gentle motion, he started rubbing one pearl against another in a slight, rotating motion. 

Caroline stared at him as if hypnotised , but his face showed no emotion as he made the same movement with one pearl after another.  

At length he looked up from the pearls and directed his eyes toward Caroline.  She sat motionless, trying to hide the terror in her eyes.  The other guests at the roundtable had stopped talking and seemed to be caught up in the tense atmosphere.

Mrs. Stanbury looked interested and was smiling at the jeweller’s serious face.  

“Well, haven’t you looked at Caroline’s necklace long enough, Mr. Dantinoff?” the Ambassador asked. 

The jeweller hesitated and paused, his eyes searching the young woman’s face, now devoid of all pretence and her guilt exposed to anyone with eyes to see.

“Yes, yes, I have.”

He handed the necklace to Caroline with a slight bow.  And she took it, her face almost as white as the pearls. 

“I apologize, Mrs. Trowbridge.  I was so sure ... but the pearls are fake.  I’m afraid the necklace is worthless.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Dantinoff,” Caroline whispered.  “Thank you very much.” 

“What are you thanking him for?” the Ambassador was laughing now.  “If he had told you the pearls were real, everybody would have believed him and you could pretend you have a valuable ornament instead of only costume jewellery.” 

Red-faced, Mr. Dantinoff ran his fingers around his collar. Perspiration stood out on his forehead. Mrs. Stanbury's eyes, wide-opened, stared at him. The conversation around the table resumed but the topic was no longer the weather. 

To Caroline, it seemed the voices came from a distance. 

“May I be excused?” Mr. Dantinoff asked. 

Caroline nodded and he turned on his heel and left the dining room. 

“What’s the matter with him?  Couldn’t take being wrong, I guess. What a joke on Mr. Know-It-All! Tomorrow this fiasco will be known all over town and he’ll be a laughing stock.” 

Caroline looked at Angus.  He was enjoying himself so much that he couldn’t see the shimmering tears that threatened to form in her eyes. 

“I’m afraid you’re right, Mr. Ambassador,” Mrs. Stanbury said in a quiet voice.  “Mr. Dantinoff knows it, too.” 

“Well, now we can all go on with something more entertaining than Caroline's trinket. Did everybody here listen to the Finance Minister’s speech about the budget?” 

With this comment, the conversation took a new turn, and Caroline sat, silent, fingering her pearls with a faraway look

Later, when Senator Stanbury sat in the limousine homeward bound with his wife, he smiled.

“Well, another party behind us. But this time it was worth it just to see Mr. Know-it-All get his comeuppance.”

“Yes, it was worth it,” Mary Stanbury said. “But not for the reason you think. Tonight I witnessed an act so chivalrous that I never hope to see its like again.”

“What do you mean, darling?”

His wife shifted in her seat and turned her head to face him.

“I’m speaking about Mr. Dantinoff. He told a lie this evening, perhaps the greatest lie of his life.”

“A lie?”

The Senator looked puzzled.

“When he said that Mrs. Trowbridge’s pearls are fake. They must be worth a fortune, and he knows it.”

“Why would he do a thing like that?” the Senator asked. “Doesn’t he realize that he has made himself an object of ridicule? Nobody will ever believe a word he says again.”

“Oh, Tom, he knows that and that’s why he left. But he saved a lady’s honour tonight. Did you look at Mrs. Trowbridge?”

“Of course I looked. So did every other man in the room. She’s a lovely young woman, isn’t she?”

Mary Stanbury smiled into the darkness before a thunderbolt lit the dark night for a split second.

“I mean really looked. If you had, you would have seen the love in her eyes when she touched her pearls. They must have been a gift from someone she loves very much, more than she will ever love the Ambassador. It was written all over her face, plain as day. I saw it and so did Mr. Dantinoff, and probably some other observers in the room as well.”

“Well, I’ll be... You’re a wise woman, Mary. Who would have figured Mr. Know-it-All capable of such altruism? But courage needs witnesses. Too bad there were none.”

“Oh, but there were. Mrs. Trowbridge, whom he saved from a life of misery, I, several other people, and above all, Mr. Dantinoff himself. I suspect that he feels better about himself tonight than he has ever done before.”

© Amy Thompson, 2011.