The Silk Weaver's Daughter (13 page)

Chapter 18

London, September 1685

L
ater that evening, Paul sat in the library of his large, empty house. He took a sip from the goblet of excellent brandy he twirled in his hands, and contemplated the lovely Louise and her situation. He supposed he looked calm enough to his servants, yet his mind was in turmoil.

It’s over five years since my beloved Diane passed. There is no doubt I am often lonely. What will my future be like in this large house, with no one to share it? I could give the girl a home and security for her child. Am I actually in love again at my age? It seems improbable with one so young. However, she is so exquisite, and I think, in spite of this misfortune, truly innocent. She quite enchants me.

He reflected on the single ladies of his acquaintance. Pretty and charming as many of them were, he had never once thought of remarrying until now. This was the first girl who had stirred his heart since his wife died. From the moment he met her, he had felt like this. It was the same sensation as when he was a youth and first met Diane. He was normally a confident man and yet around Louise, he became giddy and hesitant, like a schoolboy. He had tried to put the thought from his mind, supposing such a beautiful, young girl would never be interested. Now it seemed she was being handed to him, on a silver platter.

He sipped a little more of his brandy and continued his reflection.

Am I a silly, old fool? After all, I’m twenty years older than she is. Although, many men my age marry younger woman; and now, perhaps she will be glad of my offer. Yes, I believe it is the right thing to do. I’ll have to consider this some more. I have until Friday to put the idea to Pierre. He’s a decent man. After all he’s experienced lately, he doesn’t deserve this stressful situation. I think he might well be happy to have an answer to his problem.

He finished his drink, picked up one of the candleholders, snuffed out the others, and headed upstairs to bed. I will certainly be giving this much consideration before Monday, was his final thought before he fell asleep.

Louise, Claudine, and Pierre were alone in the large front room on the first floor of their house. Pierre displayed his silks up front, near the entrance, but he had turned a corner of the room in the back into an office. Tonight the three of them were there, away from the other children, discussing the proposal Paul had made to him that morning. Pierre was adamant that marrying him was the only solution for her.

“But, he’s so old and he’s bald. I don’t think I could ever love him,” she said, wailing loudly.

“He isn’t old. He’s three years younger than I am—not quite thirty-seven. You will be seventeen next month, which is certainly old enough to marry. And he’s not bald. He cuts his hair short and wears a wig because that’s the custom here. It’s a safeguard against lice in the city. In any case, it’s not a time to worry about love. Your condition will soon become apparent, and it will be far worse for you if you are not married. People will consider you completely immoral.”

“Oh, Papa, do you think I’m wicked? Marc said we were truly married by church common law?”

“Well, he should have known better than that. You are not a Catholic, even if he thinks he is.” He held his temper thinking of his own deception to Paul. Let him without sin cast the first stone, he remembered.

“I’m not saying either of you was intentionally wicked. Nevertheless, what you have done is against our faith. Marc should have never taken advantage of your vulnerability. He was a beloved member of our family, and we trusted you with him. Now you have put us in this serious situation, and Paul, who is a kind and good man, has offered a solution. So you
will
obey me, girl.”

She wailed again.

“You’ve always been taught there are consequences for wrong actions,” he continued. “And now you see that’s true. Things are different here in London than if we were still in France. If you do not marry Paul, the whole Huguenot community will brand you as a harlot. Your life will be ruined, and you will have ruined this family, as well. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Papa.” Now she sobbed, her shoulders shaking. “Oh, what have I done? Will I go to hell?”

Pierre closed his eyes, heartbroken by her agonized crying. The thought of his beautiful daughter tortured forever in a fiery hell shook him to his core. What can I tell her? Since leaving France, I’m not even sure what I believe anymore.

For the first time in his life, his faith wavered. He could not rationalize how his beloved child’s destiny was to commit this sin, and suffer the consequences of hellfire. For once, doctrine was beyond him. Besides, there was his own transgression. He didn’t feel comfortable deceiving Paul, the way he had. What would his destiny be now?

“I don’t know, child. What is hell anyway? Your Uncle Jacques doesn’t believe there is such a place of torment. I’m afraid lately theology has become a mystery to me. Nevertheless, we must contact Monsieur Thibault and accept his proposal. Truly, it is all we can do, and I know he will be kind to you. If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t go along with this. I am most disappointed with you, but I still love you, my child.”

It pained his heart to put his beloved daughter through all this. However, he reasoned, she has brought the situation on herself, and it’s our only option. “Go to bed now, daughter.”

He turned to Claudine, “Maman, will you go with her? She is rather distraught, so perhaps a sleeping draught for her tonight. I’ll contact Paul in the morning to make the arrangements. It must be done as soon as possible.”

With a heavy heart, Louise went to bed in the room she shared with Catherine and Jeanette. In spite of the opiate her mother gave her, she lay awake for hours in her narrow bed. Although it was late, the noises of a London night, outside her window, filtered through the pane. She counted as the Baroque clock, so carefully packed and shipped from France, struck the second hour past midnight. Unhappily, she tossed and turned, mulling over her father’s ultimatum. She reflected back to when, sitting beside her enchanted river and dreaming of Marc, she had imagined what her future would be. The life they would make together.

I wonder if I could go back and relive these past few months, could I change the direction things have taken? If Papa is right, I couldn’t and this must be my fate. I could do away with myself. However, I think God would consider that even more wicked, and there’s Baby to think of now. Nothing is more important than Marc’s baby. I must learn to like Monsieur Thibault. He is a pleasant man but, oh, I shall never love him the way I love Marc.

Chapter 19

T
he marriage of Paul and Louise took place on the 15
^th
of October 1685 in the English church. Only the Garneau family and two of Paul’s closest friends, Dr. Rene Martin and his wife, Lorraine, attended the ceremony. Outside of the family, only Paul and Rene knew the situation, and they both thought it was the dragoons.

Louise wore a special dress in the palest of pink silk Pierre had woven. With her blonde hair covered in a small lace cap of the same shade, she looked breathtaking. Paul could hardly believe this incredible girl would be his. Still he was well aware she did not love him. When he and the family had met to discuss the wedding plans, she scarcely looked at him although she thanked him and declared how honoured she was for his offer.

“I’ll try to make you happy, Monsieur Thibault,” she said. “I have so many new things to learn in this country, I hope I’ll never embarrass you.”

“Well, Louise. The first thing you must learn to do is call me Paul. I could never abide this custom of my wife calling me Mister. That will be a start and we’ll go on from there.”

After the ceremony and a small dinner party at the Garneau’s, they drove back to his house in silence. As he sat beside her in the coach, he was aware of her trembling like a frightened child. They arrived at the front entrance and, feeling sorry for her, he took her icy hand and led her into the house. They passed through the spacious foyer and up the elegant staircase to a large, magnificently decorated bedroom where a coal fire burned in the fireplace.

“This is your room, Louise,” he said, smiling kindly at her. “You will stay here alone until the baby is born. I won’t be coming in here at all, for now. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Louise blushed; nevertheless, she looked up into his face and smiled. “Yes, I do. It’s most kind of you. You’ve been so wonderful to all of us. I’ll always appreciate it.”

“You’re going to make me a very happy man, but we’ll take time to get to know each other. You’ve been through a lot in the last few months. Now you must think only of the child and its welfare. I always wanted a family, but my wife was not strong, and none of our babies survived. So, we must take good care of you and this little one. While you’re waiting, is there anything you would like to do?”

“Why yes, I should like to learn English. Now this is my home, I must be able to speak the language properly.

“That’s a splendid idea. No time like the present. Tomorrow, I‘ll enquire about getting a tutor for you. Now you go to sleep, and stay in bed in the morning. I’ll see you at dinner. Perhaps by then, I’ll have arranged something for you. Good night, my dear.”

As he was about to leave the room, she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Paul. My father was right. You truly are a good man.”

Louise gave birth to a sweet little girl in the early morning of May 22nd. She was tiny with a mop of black curly hair and bright, blue eyes that sparkled with joy from the moment they opened. She was as much like Marc as a girl could be, and she hadn’t cried once since her first desperate breath. Louise could not believe how much she could love this little bundle, after all the pain she had caused her; although both the mid-wife and her mother said it was an easy birth. They hadn’t needed Doctor Martin, who had come to sit with Paul and Pierre, just in case. Claudine was also there, to oversee the birth of her first grandchild.

Just after lunch, there was a knock on the door of her room. She heard Paul asking the nurse if he could see her and the child. “Only if she’s not too tired,” he added.

“No, no sir,” the woman said. “I’m sure she will want you to see your little girl.”

Louise, who had watched her mother nursing Jeanette and Paul, did not intend to leave the feeding of her baby entirely to the wet nurse. She was holding her to her breast, when he entered. Using discretion, the nurse left the two of them together. Paul bent and kissed her cheek.

“Your parents and Doctor Martin have gone. They want you to rest,” he said, taking a seat beside the bed. “Well, now—you have a beautiful, little girl. Claudine told me, she’s quite tiny; so perhaps people won’t look too askance at her coming early. They say there’s no telling when a first one will arrive in any case. So I think I’ll get the credit for her, even if the gossips think I rushed things a little.”

Louise laughed along with him to hide her embarrassment, both at her state of undress and the turn the conversation had taken.

“She looks much like your Uncle Jacques, as I recall him,” he continued. “A true Garneau. However, I have a favour to ask you, if I may. I wondered if you would mind calling your little girl, Alice. It was my mother’s name, and she was a special woman. It would be a great honour for me.”

“Alice Thibault,” Louise tested the name. “Why I think it’s a lovely name. I would be happy to call her that. I wish I’d known your mother. I think she must have been special.”

“She was an extremely good woman—pretty and sweet like you—and exceedingly religious. A much better Huguenot than I’ll ever be, I‘m afraid. She named all her children after people in the Bible. Besides me, there was Isaac, Joseph, Hester, and Elizabeth.”

“I didn’t know you had siblings, Paul. I never thought to ask. Where are they now?”

“Sadly all except two of us died in the great plague of 1665. It killed my mother and father, as well. Elizabeth and I were the oldest, so we lived away from home. I was eighteen and went to finish my apprenticeship with my grandfather in Canterbury. Elizabeth came to live there as well, so neither of us got the sickness. She was fifteen and came to help our grand-mother. I guess I forgot to mention I have a sister. Although, I don’t know if she is alive now or not. She went with her husband to the Americas.” He paused for a moment, as if examining the past.

“You don’t hear from her?” Louise prompted.

“Not for a long time. She married a preacher by the name of James Wagner. King Charles was back on the throne, and they thought it might be safer for them in the colonies. They went to Boston, but I have no idea where she is now. My wife used to write to her. They were the same age and best friends even before our marriage. I wrote a few times after Diane’s death, but they never answered my last couple of notes. Almost anything could have happened to them. They had children who were young. They probably wouldn‘t remember to contact me if something tragic happened.”

“Oh, that is so sad. Well, now you have a family. My parents think highly of you. As for little Alice, she will always know you as her own father.”

“Thank you, dear. I promise to cherish her as if she truly were my own. She looks like such a happy baby. As soon as you are back on your feet, we’ll arrange the christening. Your mother tells me, she’s already made a beautiful silk and lace dress for the occasion.”

“Oh, my parents will be so happy. After all they’ve been through this last year, it will finally be something they could look back on with joy. You’re very good to me, Paul. I do appreciate everything you’ve done.”

“Well, you’ve brought a great deal of happiness to my lonely life. Never forget that. And now, with the baby here, there’s much to look forward to.”

Paul was often quite serious; however, she detected a slight twinkle in his eyes with that statement. Not sure of his intent, she remembered the promise he had made, that he would not take her as a wife until after the baby’s birth. He had certainly kept his part of the agreement. However, she thought he was warning her now that things would change, and she wasn’t certain of her feelings about the idea. He was an honourable man, and a wonderful friend and mentor to her. Certainly, she had grown quite fond of him. However, could anyone ever replace Marc in her heart? She hadn’t forgotten how it had been with him at the beach in La Rochelle—the feelings he had evoked in her. She couldn’t even imagine such intimacy with anyone else. In spite of her misgivings, however, she smiled warmly at him as he left the room.

The crucial moment came on a Friday evening exactly two months after the birth of Baby Alice. It had been a hot, humid day and the evening was still balmy. Louise bathed, and washed her hair with a mixture of herbs to combat the lice, with which there was a constant battle. As she sat brushing her hair, two maids came to take away the water. “Is there anything else you require, Madame?” one asked.

“No, thank you. I’m fine now. You girls go to bed yourselves. You look quite worn out” she replied in English. She was pleased with herself at how fast she was picking up this difficult language. Even the syntax was odd; so much was backwards. However, for the sake of Paul, she persevered with it. Eventually she would have to host dinner parties, and most of his clients and business associates were English, so she knew she must become fluent in it.

A quiet tap on the door to the adjoining room surprised her. It opened, and he stepped in, carrying a wine bottle and two empty glasses on a tray. It was the first time he had come that way. “I wondered if you would mind some company tonight,” he said. “I thought we could finally celebrate the birth of our beautiful, little girl with some champagne. May I join you?