The Silk Weaver's Daughter (20 page)

Pierre was thunderstruck, so it was a few seconds before he replied, “Why, Claude, that work is as back-breaking as weaving. Paul’s a successful man, but he spent many years over a workbench bending hot metal before he got to the point where he is now. He made a lot of his money from banking gold for his clients; but that will all disappear once the government establishes its own banking system.”

“Yes, I know it’s difficult. I’ve been back twice with Louise, and Paul let me try it. It doesn’t seem to hurt my arm. When I see those beautiful creations of his—I know it’s what I want to do. I’m not worried about getting rich.”

“Zut alors.
You boys have shaken the firmament from under my feet. So that only leaves you, Andee.” He turned to the small boy, speaking to him in English, “Do you want to weave pretty cloth like your father?”

“Yeth, Papa. I weally do,” said the little boy.

“Andee would be quite happy to jump over the moon if his father asked him to,” Claudine said, as they all laughed.

They stood and Pierre led the men into the drawing room for a glass of the cognac from Marc’s peace offering. Well, he thought. All’s well that ends well, I presume.

In spite of his sadness about Jacques, he hoped that this was the beginning of a new era for the Garneau family and their friends.

Chapter 28

London, November 1688

P
aul was unusually quiet at the dinner table. This was generally the happiest time for them as they discussed his day’s business and Louise would tell him the about the newest “strangers” to arrive from France. King James had issued letters patent granting the Huguenots a licence to establish one or more churches for the refugees in the City and suburbs. The congregation of La Patents, Spitalfields had been formed, and now met at the Glovers Hall.

Both the Thibaults and Garneaus were involved in setting up the relief center for new refugees, and Louise had taken on the task of helping out several days a week. Paul always enjoyed hearing about her work. However, tonight, no matter what she said, he answered her with only a word or two.

When dinner was over and they had settled into the parlour for coffee and brandy, he picked up the book he had been reading. Louise could no longer stand it.

“Is everything alright, Paul? You seem tired tonight.”

“No, I’m fine, Louise. It’s just that—well, perhaps I should tell you. I had a rather disturbing encounter this week. I’ve been debating whether to speak to you about it or not.”

“Oh, please tell me, dear.”

“A few days ago, I was at Perault’s Coffee House. You know—the one on St. James Street.”

Louise nodded.

“I met some merchants I know from the British East India Company, and your cousin, Marc Garneau was with them. He’s been working for the company here for almost three months. Not only that, he’s sailing to North American in the spring and, of all things, Jean Guy is going with him.”

He looked at her with a frown on his face. “You must have known about that. I thought it rather strange you’ve never told me. Marc seemed to know quite a lot about Alice. I got the impression; he must have seen her somewhere.”

Louise’s heart sank. “Why yes, he has quite often visited with my father and mother,” she replied. “I was there with Alice, so he did meet her. He seemed to take to her, as she looks so much like his father.”

“It’s a long time since I’ve seen Marc. I thought she looks remarkably like him, as well. You don’t look like that side of the family at all, do you?”

“Well, no. I’m like my mother. It’s not unusual, do you think? Really, this is a curious conversation, Paul.”

“I find it difficult to understand why you wouldn’t have invited him to come and see us here. I thought you and Jacques’ family were devoted. Even though, I didn’t know the son, I always admired Jacques Garneau. In fact, we were good friends.” He stopped for a moment to pick up the decanter and pour another glass of the brandy wine.

“Marc told me he died in India. It seems extremely strange that no one mentioned that to me. He also said he has a signed paper from his father, with instructions to me that Jacques’ account should go to him. I thought that was odd too. Why didn‘t he bring it to me right away? There‘s quite a lot of money involved.”

Her face grew hot with embarrassment. Nevertheless, she said nothing, stirring her coffee with a small spoon.

“Anyway, the whole encounter puzzled me, and when I met your father for coffee this morning, I asked him about it. He seemed uncomfortable and tried to change the subject. When I pursued it, he made some comment about the lad being so busy since he got here; and suddenly remembered he had to meet a client. It wasn’t like your father at all. The more I think about it, it doesn’t sit right with me.”

He finished his drink in one gulp. After scrutinizing her expression closely, he continued, “Louise, have you and your father been honest with me? I think Marc is far more interested in Alice than most second cousins would be. I want you to tell me the truth now. Is Marc the father of Alice? And, if so, why did you keep it from me? I thought you trusted me completely.”

She started to weep. She sensed her husband’s hurt and she had never wanted that. Over the last three years, his tenderness had completely won her heart, and she cared intensely for him.

“Yes, it’s true, Paul,” she said, through her sobs. “Marc is Alice’s father. At the time, I…I thought I loved him. It was a young girl’s fantasy. Can you ever forgive me? “

His expression was impassive.

“We’ve always known each other,” she continued. “We were together every summer since we were little children. He was my first love, and when Papa decided to leave France, I thought I would die without him. So I—I succumbed. But none of that has anything to do with what I feel for you now. Please believe me.”

“But why did you both deceive me? It is so unlike your father. That’s the part, I can’t understand. He knew I thought it was the dragoons, and never corrected me. I was so in love with you, the truth wouldn’t have made any difference to me at the time. It might even have been better. I have hated the thought of your beautiful body ravaged by those evil men. What hurts me the most is that neither of you trusted me enough to tell me what actually happened. It makes me wonder if I can ever again have confidence in what you tell me—you or your father. Can you not see, Louise?”

“Yes, I do understand and I’m so—so sorry.” She started to cry uncontrollably. “M—Marc learned about Alice, and he wanted to be able to see her once in awhile. Pa—Papa promised he would arrange it at their home. Only if Marc consented not to come near me. He agreed, which is why he’s never been here. I—I should have confided in you after you married me— when Alice was born and I realized you loved me. Is it too late, Paul? Can you not forgive me?”

“I love you. That much will never change. So shall we’ll leave it for now?” To her despair, he returned to his reading.

A month had gone by since Louise‘s admission to Paul about Marc. Since the night of their discussion, Paul had never come to her room, nor once taken her in his arms to kiss her. He seldom spoke to her other than at the dinner table, and meals were now a solemn affair. Often he worked late at the shop and only came home in time for bed. She was well aware of this change in him, and it hurt her immeasurably. It was the first time since she met him that he had been anything but kind.

On this particular morning, she had gone to the Glovers Hall to help as she did three times a week. However, she had taken a sick spell and had to come home early. Over the last month, she had lost weight and now looked decidedly peaky.

By the dinner hour, she was still not well and picked at her meal. Half way through, she lay down her fork and said, “I‘m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, Paul. I think I’ll go up for an early night. I’m feeling quite ill.” She stumbled to the door, but overtaken by the dizziness, she sank to the floor.

“Louise, what is wrong?” he cried, ringing for her maid.

She heard him but was too ill to answer. He carried her upstairs to her room, with Hannah following. “Get her in bed, Hannah,” he instructed the woman. “I’ll send for Dr. Martin.”

Louise had somewhat recovered from the dizziness, by the time the doctor came. He spoke to her quite severely. “You have not been eating enough, Louise. You’re far too thin. And tell me, when did you last have your monthly bleeding?”

She considered the question. Since Paul had not been sleeping with her, she had not given it a thought. “Why—I think it was over two months ago,” she said.

“Yes, I thought as much. Then it’s likely you are with child. You had better make sure you have enough to eat and some bed rest for the next month. We don’t want to take any chances. I treated Paul’s first wife you know. Their babies never survived past childbirth. It could be something in Paul’s family, so you’ll have to be careful of your health. I leave it to you to tell your husband. I‘m sure it will please him.”

After he left the room, she sat up in bed trembling with excitement. Could it be, she wondered. It would make Paul so happy. He has the idea he can never have a child of his own. Oh, I must have this baby. Nothing must happen to it. He is such a good man. He deserves to have his own son.

Dr. Martin walked down the stairs where Paul anxiously awaited him in the library. “I don’t think it is too much to worry about,” the doctor said to him. “Make sure she stays in bed for the next little while. I’ll check back in a month.” Rene looked at him with a slight twinkle in his eye. “Don’t worry, old friend. It might be the greatest thing that ever happened to you.” He clapped him on the shoulder as he left the house.

Louise was sitting up in bed when he went into the room. “Sit down, Paul,” she said. “I have something to tell you.”

“Are you alright, sweetheart? Rene says to keep you in bed for a month. Louise, I’m sorry I’ve been so foolish. I was hurt that’s all. To know you’d loved someone before me. It was my silly pride.”

“But, Paul, you loved someone before me,” she reminded him gently. “It’s truly possible to love more than one person, I’ve discovered. It seems each love is entirely different.”

“Yes, I realize it now, and I should never have acted so miserably. I should have been happy it wasn’t by force. That could have scarred you for life. Now I can’t stand you should be sick like this. You mean the whole world to me.”

“If things go well, perhaps I won’t be the only thing in your world for long. Rene thinks I’m pregnant again.” She smiled tenderly at him. “This time, believe me, it could only be yours.”

“Louise,” he exclaimed. “Is it possible? You know Diane lost several babies. I don’t think I could bear it if it happens again.” He took her in his arms, and covered her face with kisses, tears of joy flowing down his cheeks. “My sweetheart. We must take care of you.”

It wasn’t an easy pregnancy this time. Dr. Martin was quite concerned Louise might lose the baby, and urged her to stay in bed past the first two months. She felt drained of energy, and found even going up and down, the stairs wore her out. She suffered greatly from nausea and, even when that stopped, her appetite didn’t improve. However, the doctor was insistent she should eat.