Somehow Edward found time during these last frenetic weeks in 1940 before the invasion to visit Cartier and collect his latest commission, intended as a birthday gift for Wallis on 19 June, and which he had ordered several months previously. On 4 March 1940 he had visited Jeanne Toussaint, Cartier’s Design Director, with his pockets full of stones from a necklace and four bracelets, and discussed with her the making of a magnificent brooch in the shape of a flamingo, with startling tail feathers of rubies, sapphires and emeralds and a retractable leg so that Wallis could wear it centrally, without the leg digging into her should she bend down.
Toussaint was one of an unusual group of self-made women responsible for defining good taste and style in late 1930s Paris; women who felt a burgeoning need to break free and express themselves. Before the First World War jewellery had followed certain rigid conventions and traditions but in the 1920s, as women fought for an enhanced role in society, jewellery and clothes reflected this desire for greater freedom. Toussaint was patronized by women who refused to be confined within narrow limits. Her mother was a Belgian lace-maker, but Jeanne – small, slim and dynamic – left her Charleroi home at just sixteen and came to Paris as the young mistress of an aristocrat and one of the first women to be paid for modelling. When her lover abandoned her, she had affairs with several other men, moving in circles of kept women, courtesans and coquettes that flourished in Belle Epoque Paris, circles that included Coco Chanel, who remained a close friend until the end of her life. In 1918, Jeanne met and fell in love with Louis Cartier, one of three brothers who had built up the jewellery firm which was by then flourishing on the Rue de la Paix. Cartier, with branches in London and New York, famous for its fine platinum settings designed to set off exquisite stones often imported from India or Russia, was at the height of its international success. Louis, forty-three and divorced, wanted to marry Jeanne, but his family was appalled by the idea of him marrying a woman they considered a demi-mondaine, fearing this would impact negatively on the firm. So she remained his mistress and, although she could neither draw nor sketch, he appointed her Design Director, a key position in the company and also in the life of Parisian high society. She could relate to the French custom of indulging les grandes amoureuses and to the role played by lavish jewellery in an extramarital relationship, a world from which she and Chanel had so recently emerged. At Cartier (and other Parisian jewellers) it was not unusual for a man to maintain two accounts: one for his wife and one for his mistress. Meticulous records were kept of everything bought and sold, but discretion was paramount. It was imperative that salespeople were trained never to confuse the two, a discipline followed to this day.