The Silk Weaver's Daughter (22 page)

Chapter 30

London, October 1689

I
t took a few months for Louise to regain the stamina she had before her pregnancy. During that time, Paul was careful not to burden her with social obligations. However, he and Pierre met now and then for lunch to discuss family matters. Over the four years they had known each other, the two men had forged a strong friendship.

The Garneau family, in due course, had settled into their new lives in England. France would never be forgotten, but they no longer pined for it. When occasionally they mentioned they missed their cousins and the old friends in the little village, Paul readily empathized with them. They had no way of knowing whether their Huguenot neighbours managed to escape, nor where they had gone. It reminded him of his lost sister.

A year earlier, in 1688, the unpopular Catholic King James had been forced to leave the country. He and his family now lived in exile, in France. After the debauchery of the Stuart court, the British, for the most part, were satisfied with their new royals—James’ eldest daughter, Mary and her pious Dutch husband, William of Orange. Since the king was a staunch Protestant, this new turn of events elated the Huguenot community. All fear of reprisals against them from forces within England had disappeared.

In the spring of 1689, Marc Garneau sailed with a shipload of tea destined for the North American colonies of Boston and Jamestown. Jean Guy went along as his assistant. Like his cousin, Jean Guy was quick to learn a new language. In only over four years, the young man spoke perfect English, and Marc planned to teach him Portuguese and Spanish, as well. He seemed to be well-suited for a career as a merchant.

“How are your new apprentices faring?” Paul asked his father-in-law one day in late summer. They were enjoying lunch together at a coffeehouse near the goldsmith shop. “I guess they keep you busy since Jean Guy left? Zounds, is it already six months he’s been gone? I‘m sure you miss the lad tremendously.”

“Yes, we do—but we knew we must let him try it anyhow,” Pierre replied. “I feel a man should love his vocation. Otherwise, life isn’t worthwhile. It saddens me, but Jean Guy was never meant to be a silk weaver. It’s tedious work for anyone who doesn’t like it.”

“How long will they be gone then?”

“Until next spring, I think. Marc said they would have to stay a month or so in each place to get the idea of drinking tea established over there. A voyage to America is a lot shorter than going to the Orient, so Jean Guy can see if this really will be the life for him. He’s the only one who didn’t get seasick on the way over from France which is a good sign.”

As they both stopped talking to sip their coffee, it occurred to Paul that Marc hadn’t converted any of the family here to tea drinking yet. It struck him as amusing and he smiled to himself. However, he didn’t think his serious father-in-law would see the humour in it, so he continued their conversation. He expressed his satisfaction with Claude, now installed in the goldsmith shop as an apprentice.

“He seems to have a gift for this work, Pierre. He’s already better at making the jewellery than Henri who has been there for a few years. I think he’ll be an excellent goldsmith. So now, all you have to worry about are the girls and little Andre. What are your plans for him? He can’t be considered a baby any longer, can he?”

“No he’ll be six in February. We’ve hired a tutor who’ll come in to teach both him and Jeanette their lessons each morning. I already let him do a little work on the small loom, as well. He’s quite deft for a little boy.”

He smiled over at Paul. “I content myself with the thought; here might finally be my silk weaver. But he must have a full classic education, and I’ve saved enough money for that. There should be at least one scholar in the family.”

“Any news about Catherine’s romance, Louise will be anxious to know the latest?” Paul asked. A young wig-maker from the area was courting Claude’s twin sister, and they planned to marry as soon as she turned seventeen.

“Oh, they’re still very much in love. The wedding will be next summer. They’ll live with us for a while. He’s never going to be wealthy, I’m afraid, so it’s good that she’s satisfied to stay home with Claudine, and learn how to be a good wife and mother. I must say she’s a lot easier to handle than Louise ever was at that age.”

Paul grinned at Pierre, but again said nothing. He privately thought his wife was quite easy to handle. Although, perhaps it is she who handles me, he mused. Once more, he had to stop himself from chuckling audibly at the thought.

Aloud he said to his father-in-law, “So we’ll soon be looking forward to a wedding in the family. You know, if you intend to invite quite a few people, you are quite welcome to have it at our house. Louise will certainly be up to helping her mother with a party by then. I assume she’ll be coming to see you about some material for another new dress. As my wife always tells me, ‘it‘s very helpful having the best silk maker in London in the family.’”

Even Pierre laughed at that, as they finished their coffees, and bade each other a fond farewell.

While the Thibault house on Soho Square was spacious and elegant, and Louise seemed happy there, Paul realized, with so little to do, she was sometimes bored. There were several servants as well as a wet nurse for Peter and a nanny for Alice. She read a great deal, played the spinet, sewed beautiful outfits for the children, and kept up her English lessons, but, nonetheless, he could see she sometimes found the days dragging without something to challenge her mind.

Even, though, her strength was returning, he didn’t want her to go back to the church to help with the refugees from France. Those who managed to make their way to London, often arrived with fevers and illnesses, and what she might bring home to the baby concerned him. However, he appreciated she was not the kind of woman to be satisfied with just needle-work and giving parties. She clearly wasn’t the usual type of English upper class bride.

He decided to compromise by bringing the accounts from the goldsmith shop home to teach her how to keep them for him. She had told him that, on the farm in France, she helped her father with his accounts. More and more he was involved in the plans for the new Bank of England and was quite happy to have her take over that part of the business. Having a natural ability with figures, she learned quickly and, since she could do it unobserved in the house, no one could accuse her of being unladylike. Gentlewoman in society simply didn’t do things like that but, outside the family, Paul thought, no one had to know.

As they breakfasted together one day in early autumn, Paul asked his wife, “How would you like to do something different for our marriage anniversary, Louise? I was thinking we might go to a play in town. I know it’s the custom to celebrate only exceptional anniversaries like the twenty-fifth; but this is such a special year for us, I feel like doing something out of the ordinary. And anyhow, I’ll be fortunate to be around for our twenty fifth anniversary.” His smile was slightly sad.

“Why I’ve never been to the theatre, Paul. There was no such thing in our little village in France. In any case, I’m not sure my father would ever have thought to do something like that. He’s always been rather pious about entertainment. Have you been to the theatre much then?”

“Yes, many times. I’ve seen most of William Shakespeare’s plays. They were spectacular. During the reign of King Charles, it was the thing to do in London Society, even though the plays got quite ribald sometimes. In fact, it got so bad the women wore masks to hide their identity.”

“My, that must have been something to see. I suppose then, they could flirt with whomever they liked—married or not.”

“That was the general idea, but now, of course, King William, being such a strict Protestant, has cleaned up the theatre somewhat. Most of the plays are quite decent, so ladies don’t need masks anymore, and I wouldn’t hesitate to take you.”

A few days later, he told her he had arranged for them to see a play at the Drury Lane Theatre. The name had rather intrigued him. “It’s an old comedy called A Chaste Maid in Cheapside’ about a goldsmith climbing the social ladder. Thomas Middleton wrote it nearly fifty years ago, but it’s still relevant. Most of us in the guild don’t mind a laugh at our expense. It is a little on the cheeky side I’m told, so I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, Paul. I think it would be amusing.”

Because it was their first social outing since the birth of Peter, he also invited Louise’s parents. He arranged for a comfortable box in the theatre for the four of them, and afterwards they would go to dinner together, so it promised to be an elegant evening. .

Pierre, although explaining to them that, in his Huguenot heart, he would most likely feel guilty, nevertheless agreed to attend. He admitted that, as a young apprentice in the city of Tours, he had gone to the occasional drama; but neither he nor Claudine had seen one since getting married.