Breathtaking Claret Jug

She was hiding behind a row of dusty teacups at a sleepy village market in the Shires, her crystal body catching just a wink of sun. At first glance, it was the sinuous silver curves that drew me in — pure Art Nouveau, like a flower caught mid-bloom. Closer inspection revealed the name Mappin & Webb and a delicate monogram C and W, etched like a whispered secret from another century. Wrapped in newspaper, nestled in the back seat like a royal passenger, she came home with me — a rescued relic of elegance, ready to charm her next chapter.