Are you as eager as I am for the return of Neflix’s hit Regency-set Bridgerton series? If you haven’t the trailer for season three yet, rush right over to YouTube or Instagram and check it out NOW!

Interest in Regency-inspired jewelry, which flared in the wake of seasons one and two, is likely to blaze up once again with the debut of season three, which stars Nicola Coughlan as Penelope Featherington (aka Lady Whistledown, notorious ton gossip columnist). Especially as we see the jewels seventeen-year-old Penelope wore in season 1—enameled butterflies, daisies, and other sweet-looking flowers—give way in season 3 to pieces made of precious metals and sparkling gemstones, jewelry far more suited to a young lady on the cusp of romantic and sexual awakening.

Bridgerton's Penelope Featherington jewelry from seasons 1 and 3

Bridgerton doesn’t aim for precise historical accuracy in its costuming designs, but instead combines nods to Georgian style with clever modern touches. I enjoy the show’s creatively imagined jewels, but the pretties I really lust after are the real, period pieces created more than two hundred years ago by artisans and craftspeople making beautiful pieces by hand.

Whenever I’m first thinking about starting a new novel, I like to gather pictures related to my story and keep them on a Pinterest board as inspiration (here’s a link to my Pinterest Board for Not Quite a Scandal, if you’re curious). One picture I choose for each of my books is a piece of antique jewelry from the Georgian or Regency period I admire. I then use that jewel as a model for one in my story, a piece that’s meaningful to one of my characters.

Wedding DressArtist/maker unknown, American, Quaker Worn by Lydia Poultney (American (Philadelphia) 1788–1871)

A Quaker wedding dress from the early 19th century: beautiful silk fabric, but completely unadorned. Philadelphia Museum

This was a bit of a challenge for my latest book, Not Quite a Scandal, since its protagonist, Bathsheba Honeychurch, is a member of the Society of Friends, more commonly known as the Quakers. And Quakers insisted on plain dress—no frills, no furbelows, and definitely NO frivolous jewelry!

I got around this problem by making the jewel in Not Quite a Scandal meaningful to not to Sheba, but to Noel Griffin, the man who falls for her. I chose a ring I imagined Noel’s father gave to his mother, a ring which was left to him after his parents died. And I chose an unusual ring, one that would strike Sheba not just as a vain, idle adornment, but a gift with deeper meaning: a Fede Gimmel ring.

What’s a Fede Gimmel ring, you ask? You’re likely familiar with the most common of the three ancient ring forms: the Claddagh. But the Fede ring and the Gimmel ring are far less well known today than they were in the past.

Gold finger ringMetropolitan Museum of Art

A Roman betrothal ring or wedding band, c. 3rd century CE, featuring the dextrarum iunctio, the joining of two right hands. Metropolitan Museum of Art

A Fede, or ‘hand-in-hand,’ ring, features two clasped hands united at a ring’s bezel. Rings depicting clasp hands first appeared during Roman times, when the joining of two right hands, known as dextrarum iunctio, represented a solemn gesture of mutual fidelity and loyalty at the conclusion of an agreement or contract. The right hand was sacred to the ancient Roman god Fides, the deity of fidelity; “fede” is Italian for “trust” or “faith.” Depictions of the dextrarum iunctio were common not just in ancient Roman imagery, but also in early Christian art, especially in artwork depicting a marriage.

English gold fede ring 15th/16th century

English fede ring, late 15th/16th century Sotheby’s

Before Lord Hardwicke’s Clandestine Marriages Act of 1753, the only legal requirement for a valid marriage was that it be celebrated by an Anglican clergyman and that both parties give their consent. The marriage ceremony itself was governed by local customs and rituals. Two of those customs—the holding of hands and the giving of a ring—came together in the fede ring, a popular choice for betrothal and wedding rings in Europe during the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, and the early modern period.

16th century German gimmel ring, two views: closed and open

16th century German gimmel ring, closed (left) and open (right). The inscription quotes the Bible (Matthew 19:6): “What therefore God what joined together, let not man put asunder”.

A Gimmel, or gimmal, ring takes its name from the Latin word for
twin, “gemellus.” Gimmel rings are made of two interlocking hoops which can be taken apart. Betrothed couples would each be given a hoop from the ring to wear until the hoops were joined together once again during the wedding ceremony, after which the bride would wear the ring made whole. This reuniting of the separated band, like Roman sacred handshake, served as confirmation of consent by each wedding participant. It also served a symbolic function: the joining of two lives to make one new cohesive whole.

Georgian Pearl and Paste Gimmel Ring c. 1820

In the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries, gimmel rings, known as joint rings in England, were often used, like fede rings, as betrothal tokens or wedding bands.

By the 18th century, jewelers began to make gimmel rings with three or more interlocking bands, held together at the back by a pivot, so when opened they hinged like a fan. A related ring, one made of multiple interconnected bands which can be assembled and reassembled, are known as “puzzle rings,” “harem rings,” or “Turkish wedding rings.”

17th century puzzle ring: three hoops unite into one, their stones forming a cross

Around 1600, the two types of rings—the fede and the gimmel—began to be combined into a single design. Such rings often featured a third element—a heart set on a separate shank, which was revealed when the hands of the fede ring were opened. This is the design of the ring I discovered during one of my many searches of antique jewelry sites, the ring I chose to feature in Not Quite a Scandal. This ring features not one, but two hearts hidden between its two hands, which seemed a a fitting symbol for Not Quite a Scandal‘s two young lovers.