The Silk Weaver's Daughter (25 page)

Chapter 34

T
he Monday morning, one week after the ball, found Louise lingering over her coffee and reading the newspaper, when there was a frantic pounding at the front door. After a few seconds, the butler appeared, looking perturbed. “Madame, your father, and young brother are here. They need to speak to you immediately.”

Oh, whatever is wrong? This is so unlike them, she worried as she hurried into the receiving room. One look at her father made her heart stop. “Papa, what is it? You look ghastly.”

“Louise, dear, please sit down. We have something to tell you. Something I don’t really quite understand, but it is bad news. Claude, you explain what happened. You were there, and you comprehend the situation much better than I do.”

“It’s Paul. The police have taken him to jail. Sir John Houblon and a constable came and arrested him early this morning. Sir John is still the city sheriff until the new ones take over in July. He was extremely apologetic, but said he had to do it. It’s his job. They went into Paul’s office and found proof in his desk he’s been involved in coining.”

“Coining? I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s a serious offence, Louise,” Claude continued. “It’s when they shave off some of the gold, and pass off the coin as being legal when it doesn’t really have the true value. I hate to say this; but they hang people for this crime. It’s considered treason. I know Paul would never do such a thing. He’s far too honest. He told Sir John he didn‘t know how those items got there. I think Sir John believes him, but still he had no choice but to make the arrest.”

“Arrest him! They’ve taken him to jail? I must go to see him.” The room seemed suddenly to whirl around, and Louise could hardly get her breath. I mustn’t faint, she thought, dropping into the nearest chair.

“Definitely not,” Pierre said. “He’s in Newgate. Under no circumstance are you to go to that place. Paul would never allow it. Claude and I will find Marc and Jean Guy. Thanks be, they got home from their voyage this week. Marc may know what to do about something like this. I have no idea, myself.”

“But, Claude,” she turned back to her brother, “what about the shop? Who’s there? You must be the one to take charge of it for now. You’re the one Paul trusts. He said you learn remarkably fast, and—oh—what about the vault. All the gold is in there.”

“It’s alright. Paul locked the vault before they took him away. He told me not to leave the key in the shop, but to bring it to you for now.”

“Well, I already have one, but you must keep that one with you at all times. Don’t let it out of your sight. Wear it around your neck, I think. I must depend on you, Claude. I know Paul would not wish Henri Dubois left too much on his own in the shop. Since I saw him at the ball the other night with Sir Geoffrey, I don’t quite trust him anymore. You’d better go back to the shop right away. Get Oliver, our coachman to take you right back.”

“Yes, you’re right. I’ll go back, and, don’t worry, I promise to look after everything until this is all settled. I’ll keep my eyes on Henri. Come, Papa. You’ll have to find Marc and Jean Guy. They’re most likely at the East India offices on Leadenhall Street.”

“It’s a good idea for us to split up now,” Pierre agreed. “Once we decide what to do, someone will come back to you, Louise. Don’t you take it into your head to do anything foolish, daughter.”

“But—I must see…”

“I know how you feel,” he broke in. “But you simply cannot go to that place. It’s best for you to stay here with the children. Although, I wouldn’t mention anything even to Alice yet—she’s far too young to understand.”

They both gave her reassuring hugs and went out the back entrance towards the coach house.

“Monsieur Marc Garneau to see you, Madame.” It was much later in the evening. Louise sat in the library, quietly weeping to herself, when Herbert entered to make the announcement. Marc was right on the butler’s heels.

She stood up, dabbing at her red-rimmed eyes with a handkerchief and Marc, crossing the room swiftly, put his arms around her and pulled her close. It was the first time she had seen him since he and Jean Guy returned from their yearlong trip to America.

“Louise,
Cherie.
Please don’t cry. Your whole family is in this together, and we are all going to help Paul be acquitted. We all know he’s an upright man, and certainly not the type to do this thing. Even Sir John Houblon said so.”

She couldn’t seem to help herself. It was so comforting in his arms, she relaxed against him; suddenly he was kissing her, and she was responding. For a few moments, time stood still and she was back in France. Then she remembered herself and gently pushed away from him. Not wanting to hurt him, she took both his hands in hers. “Marc. What am I to do? I can’t even go and see him in that ghastly place. And I’m afraid it will be the death of him.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We have it all planned. Uncle Pierre will be in the shop each day to help Claude, and they will watch Henri carefully. He’s the only one who had any access to the place other than Paul and Claude. It’s almost certain no one broke in. There’s no evidence of it anywhere.”

She let go his hands and motioned him to take a seat opposite her. “The other night at the ball—it was strange. Henri was there having a discussion with Sir Geoffrey Watson. I had the feeling they might be up to something. But it would only be our word against theirs, I’m afraid.”

“And that is certainly circumstantial. It wouldn’t stand up in court at all. Well, it will be up to Jean Guy and me to do some investigating. We’ve already been to see Paul at the prison—yes, yes. He is all right,” he assured her, as she was about to break into his story. “Thanks be, Sir John is such a good friend of Paul’s, and he definitely believes he has been framed.”

“But I need to talk to him.”

“He said to tell you not worry too much, and don’t tell the children anything about this. If Alice asks, he’s just away. We’re going to take him decent meals, so he doesn’t get sick. And some paper and quills, so he can write to you. That’s the problem with the place. You have to bribe them for every little comfort. However, Sir John Houblon has spoken to the head warden, and we gave him some money so they will treat Paul with some decency. And at least he has a room to himself.”

“Marc. I
must
go to see him.”

“No.” His voice was firm. “It definitely would not be safe for you to go there—even with one of us. Louise, you can’t even imagine the horror of the place. The worst people are there and that includes the jailers. However, we’re going to look after him for you. He asked us to get in touch with Sir Francis Hoare. He has a friend who is a barrister. We must have one, they won’t allow your solicitor to argue a case in the Old Bailey. But, whoever it is, they’ll have to work together.”

“Thank you so much, Marc.” She wiped her eyes again. “I haven’t even asked you how you are. And I haven’t seen you for well over a year. It’s so wonderful of you to do this for Paul when you must be tired from your trip. I’ll never forget it.”

“Well, that kiss was a nice welcome home.” He smiled, teasingly. Quickly his faced turned serious.
“Cherie,
I like Paul. He’s a fine man, so I don’t usually say anything. For one thing, I don’t wish to make your father angry. However, perhaps it’s not for him I do this thing. Louise, you have to know I love you still. It’s something I have never been able to get over.” He sighed deeply. “Perhaps I never will. However, don’t worry. For now, I only want what makes you happy. So, if I can help it, nothing bad will happen to your husband.”

“Thank you, Marc. I understand.” She gave him a wan smile. “Did he tell you the other things we saw at the ball?” she asked quickly, desiring to change the subject.

“About that ferret-faced fellow, Walter Roberts? Yes, he told us everything he could think of. In addition, there’s that other Frenchman doesn’t trust. Another goldsmith, I think.”

“Yes. Monsieur Mercier.” She nodded. “He really hates Paul for some reason.”

“Well, tomorrow I’ll speak to Sir John, as well. Perhaps he can give us some clues. Anyhow, you must go to bed early tonight. Get some rest, dear and try not to worry.” He kissed her again, this time chastely on each cheek, then let himself out the front door.

After Marc had gone, Louise sat in the withdrawing room sipping a small glass of brandy the maid brought her to help her sleep. She reflected on the statement he had made to her—that he was still in love with her. Oh, I’d hoped he’d gotten over it by now. It was all so long ago, and so much has happened to both of us since then. If only he would find a pleasant mistress for his beautiful house. He needs to settle down with a wife and children.

A terrible thought struck her. He wouldn’t do anything to harm Paul, would he? No, no—he couldn’t. He’s only been back two or three days. He wouldn’t have had time, and anyhow Marc is honourable. Even if, he thinks he still loves me, he likes and admires Paul. I’m sure he wants to help him, so I had better put the thought right of my mind before I say something to Papa. He’s inclined to think the worst of Marc anyway. He doesn’t need any prompting from me in that regard.

“I believe we’ve eliminated Henri as being part of any plot against Paul,” Marc said to Louise. The men of the family had gathered with her at the Soho Square house, late one evening, to discuss their findings. “Your father has had some strong talks with him, and he swears he had nothing to do with it. He thinks highly of Paul and doesn’t mind Claude getting so much commendation. He wants to help us in any way he can. Can you add anything, Uncle Pierre?”

“No. Other than, I’m inclined to believe him. I think he’s sincere, and he definitely wants to finish his apprenticeship there. Paul says he’ll never be as naturally good at the craft as Claude is, but he does know the business end very well. He’s a journeyman now.”

“I’m glad,” Louise said. “I’ve always rather liked him. But that eliminates the possibility of someone in the shop, and how could anyone else get in there and leave the evidence?”

“Well. There is the window in Paul’s office. Henri reminded me the latch was broken. Paul meant to get it fixed but they never got around to it,” Marc answered.

“But, Marc. It’s so small. Paul showed it to me and I thought even I couldn’t possibly get through it.”

“Ahh, but luv. You are inclined to be curvy, eh.” Marc smiled fondly at her. “A young boy might—or that skinny, ferret-faced fellow you mentioned—he might be able to slip through.”

“You mean the pawnbroker, Walter Roberts,” Claude interjected. “I think we have to consider the possibility he was involved somehow, although he wasn’t particularly an enemy of Paul’s”

“Yes, but Paul says he’s been involved in illegal activity, in the past,” Pierre spoke up. “I’m inclined to think he’s mixed up in it somehow. But how do we get him to own up to such a thing?”

“The best thing to do is to give the solicitor our list of suspects. He has spies working for him who know how to talk to these seedy characters,” Marc continued. “I’ll set up an appointment to see him as soon as possible. Would you like to come with me, Louise? He may ask you questions that only you would be able to answer.”

“Yes, I’ll come with you, Marc. Any day—give me a bit of time to get ready and I’ll be happy to go. If only we can find the answer to this. It’s so frightening to have Paul in Newgate.”

“He’s alright for now.” Her father patted her arm. “He’s as well as can be expected. Being a friend of Sir John certainly helps. We’re able to make sure he has some decent food each day. By the way, dear, how could I forget? Here’s a letter from him. We managed to get the warden to let us bring in some paper and ink for him.”