‘But her dreams and his were a long time in coming true. Your grandmother’s lover saved his coins, true, but Howarth no sooner had one to stack upon two than he had to spend it for new boots or a winter cloak. Your grandmother despaired that he would ever wed her. She begged him to marry her, saying she did not care if he was penniless, that with his job her inheritance would be sufficient for them both. But again he refused, saying he would not wed until he had built a fortune of his own.’

The pendant fell silent for a time, the small face gone pensive. I waited.

The small face pursed its lips in disapproval. ‘Then Aubretia had an idea. I warned her against it. In vain, I tried to persuade her to let this young man go his own way, but she would not listen. She went to Howarth and offered him money. He could take her money off to Jamaillia to buy the trade goods that would make them both wealthy. Half of whatever profits they made would be his, and then they could be married. He quickly agreed. Far too quickly for my liking.

‘Howarth took her money and sailed away. Months passed, and Aubretia pined, but I was relieved, knowing that even though her money was gone, he was gone with it. She still had enough left to get on with, and now perhaps was wiser. But just when she began to put memories of him aside, he returned. He wore fine clothes and brought gifts with him, perfumes and silk, but little else. Most of the coin, he told her, had been spent to court trading partners in that distant city. All was in readiness, now, and as soon as he had worked hard and saved a bit of money, he could go south and make their fortune.’ My heart sank in me. I thought of my gentle grandmother and the unspoken sorrows that had seemed to live behind her eyes. ‘She believed him?’ I murmured.

‘Of course. And she persuaded him to take more of her money and set out again immediately. Aubretia kept back only the tidy little house she lived in, some family jewels, and enough to support herself until he returned. When over a year passed with no word from him, she admitted to me she had been a fool. More, she admitted it to her friends and they aided her, not only with money but with introductions to suitable young men. But she swore her love would not be easily won again. She lived quietly and simply and alone.’

‘Until she met my grandfather?’ I guessed.

The charm scowled at me. ‘Your grandfather was a hard-handed, flinty-hearted man. He married your grandmother solely to have someone to tend to his squalling son and keep his house in order after his first wife died of his ill treatment. She married him solely to have a place to rest her head at night. But he does not come into this story. Not yet.’

Ignoring my shocked silence, the pendant spoke on. ‘One cold wet evening, who should come and knock at her door but her wayward suitor. I thought surely Aubretia would drive him away, but she welcomed him in and unquestioningly embraced him. Howarth wept, telling her that all had gone awry for him, and that he had been too ashamed to come home and face her, but finally his heart could stand to be parted from her no longer. He had come back, to beg her forgiveness.’ The little face gave a disdainful snort. ‘And she believed him.’

‘But you did not?’

‘I believed he had spent all her money, that it was not his heart that had brought him back, but his greed. She told him it mattered nothing to her, that all would be well if he would but marry her. Side by side they could toil and still make a good, if simple life for themselves. She still had her house and some family jewellery and somehow they would manage.’

I closed my eyes, pitying my grandmother that she could love so much and so blindly.

‘I warned her. Her friends warned her, saying that if she listened to that rogue again, they would disown her. But Aubretia cared nothing for anyone but him. And he, speaking so nobly, said he would not let her family think her a fool. Howarth would not marry her while he was penniless. A fortune was still within his grasp. If only he had enough money, he could recoup his losses and go on.’

‘How could that be?’ I demanded.

‘An excellent question. One that your grandmother never asked, or at least not directly. He implied all sorts of things. That a bribe to a tariff official would free up a seized shipment, that it he were seen to be successful, others would lend him the money to complete some transaction. He spoke so skillfully and knowingly of how one must have money and spend money in order to make money.’

A terrible sadness welled up in me. How often had I heard my mother lament our poor circumstances and wish for better days, only to have Grandmother say, ‘But it is hopeless, my dear. One must have money in order to make money.’

‘She went to her grave believing that was so’ I said.

The pendant was silent for a moment. Then it gave a tiny sigh. ‘I feared as much. For of course you have guessed the rest of the story. Aubretia sold all she had and gave him the money to redeem his fortune. When she dared to ask to go with him, he said that her passage south would cost too much, and the hardships would be too much for her to endure. That ring you wear once held an emerald, flawless and deep green. Even that he took. Howarth pried the stone out of the setting himself, saying he would sell the stone in Jamaillia only if he had to, but that he hoped to bring it back and restore it to her hand. He promised her that, no matter how he fared, he would come back within a year. She watched him sail from the Bingtown docks. Then she went to her oldest friend and confessed her situation. She threw herself on her mercy. Well, they had been friends since girlhood. Despite her threats, she took your grandmother in, and gave her a bed to sleep in and a place at the table. Aubretia was, after all, still a Lantis and a Trader. It was expected that she would find a way to make her way in the world, and eventually make a suitable match. There is a saying in Bingtown. ‘Money does not make a Trader, it is the Trader that makes the money.’ Her friends hoped she had learned her lesson.

Yet it was hard for them to be patient with her, for she did little except moon after her absent lover. A year went by and then another. All of us told her both man and fortune were gone, and she should make a fresh start for herself. Aubretia insisted she would wait, that Howarth would come back from her.’ The carved face pursed its lips in ancient disappointment. ‘She waited. And that was all she did.’

‘Did Howarth ever come back?’ I asked in a whisper. The pendant’s small face twisted in disgust. ‘Oh, yes. He returned. Some three years later, he came back to Bingtown, but it was months before your grandmother knew of it. She recognized him one day as he strolled through the Market with his fine foreign wife at his side. A servant walked behind them, carrying a parasol to shade them. A nurse carried their little son. And his pale, plump Jamaillian wife wore the Lantis emerald at her throat.’

‘What did she do?’ I whispered.

The pendant’s small voice grew heavy with an old weariness. I sensed it was a memory often pondered but still painfully fresh. ‘She stood and stared. She could not believe her eyes. And then a cry of purest disbelief broke out of her. At the sound, he turned. Howarth recognized her, and yet he turned aside from her. She shrieked his name, demanding to know why he had abandoned her. In the streets of Bingtown, before Traders and common merchants, she wailed like a madwoman and tore out her hair. She fell to her knees and begged him to come back to her, wailing that she could not live without him. But Howarth only took his wife’s arm and hurried her way, whispering something to her about "that poor mad woman." ‘

The pendant fell silent.

‘Then what happened?’ I demanded. My heart was beating strangely fast. ‘Did she go to him and confront him and his wife, denounce how he had taken her fortune, demand the return of her emerald?’