The Silk Weaver's Daughter (33 page)

Chapter 42

Hampstead, England, May 1693

I
t had been a cold spring. Now, in Hampstead Heath where Marc had built his mansion, the hills were finally white with hawthorn trees in full blossom. Louise thought it was one of the loveliest and most peaceful areas around London. Marc is so fortunate to live here, she mused.

Alice would soon turn seven, and the whole family, with the exception of Paul, was there to see the pony Uncle Marc had bought for her. When it was a little older, it would go to the manor stables at the Oxfordshire farm.

Louise sat on the portico with Marc, newly returned from America. They watched as Pierre led the little horse around and around the riding ring with Alice sitting sidesaddle. Peter galloped about the ring on his hobbyhorse. The children and Pierre were always content together. It reminded her of her own happy childhood in the French village.

It’s good that Alice and Peter have such an active grandfather now that Paul was immobile, she thought. Marc was good with them as well, which, for a bachelor she found rather surprising.

She turned to him and spoke. “You’ve made a wonderful home here, Marc.” Then, without thinking of the consequences, added, “Have you never considered marriage and children?”

“So far my lifestyle has not lent itself to courtship, Louise. I’m too much away from home. I won’t pretend there haven’t been women. After all, I am a man—and a Frenchman at that,” he added. His spontaneous, impish smile lit up his face.

“In any case, I’ve never met anyone I can care for as much as my first love. Perhaps as long as she haunts me the way she does, it wouldn’t be fair to wed another. I still can never smell a rose without thinking of a certain day on the beach at La Rochelle.”

Her eyes widened in astonishment at this proclamation. She knew her face had given away how she felt about him the night he rescued her from Mathurin Mercier. However, that was over a year ago, and since he learned that Paul could not walk, he never mentioned the incident. She dreaded what he might say to her now.

Drawing a little closer to her, he continued, “And I have a sweet, little girl who has learned to love me as a dear uncle, and who fills my heart for now. But what about your future,
Cherie?
What do they say about Paul’s progress?”

“He’s as healthy as he’ll ever be, I’m afraid. There is no hope he’ll ever walk again. Dr. Renee says he’s lucky to be alive, although I sometimes think Paul doesn’t feel that way. There was so much he wanted to accomplish to help society. Now he often says he would as soon be dead. However, he does enjoy being at the farm. He’s always happier there.”

“Yes. It’s a wonderful place. I can see why he loves it. But what about the shop?”

“We’re fortunate all three boys have turned out to be such wonderful goldsmiths. With Lucien doing much of the designing, and all of them working hard, they keep King William satisfied. They don’t take on too many other commissions. There’s no need.”

She stopped to wave at Alice who had completed another circle on the pony.

“Of course, I do the books, and Henri helps me with the banking duties. That’s his expertise, but it will be finished when the Bank of England opens. Papa loves running the estate and it’s doing fine now. So everything is well taken care of.”

“Outside of the farm, does Paul have any interests?”

“He loves to read and, when he’s tired, Maman or I read to him. He likes books on theology and history. His brain is as good as ever although physically he weakens a little each day. Nevertheless, they’ve rigged up a sort of pallet so he can be on a horse and they lead him around the farm with Papa. He loves that. Rene Martin says he could live for many years yet. I can’t say he’s happy though. I’m afraid he’s a changed man in many ways.”

“And what about you—are
you
happy, Louise? A beautiful, young woman like you should not have to live like a nun for the rest of her life.” He looked intently into her eyes the way he did when they were young. “It’s true I’ve never forgotten that time in La Rochelle—can you say you have?”

She hesitated to answer and looked over at young Alice still sitting on the brown pony. Both she and Peter were laughing delightedly at something their Grandfather had said.

“No, Marc. How could I forget? I have my charming little reminder over there.”

“I’m not speaking of Alice, my dear. I’m thinking of how we were together. For me, it has never been the same with anyone else. You know, Louise, we are in this intolerable situation. I love you passionately and I know you love me too. You can’t deny it. Your eyes told me so, the night I fought Mercier.” He reached up and picked a red rose from a bush climbing up the porch. Coming close to her, he bent and carefully tucked it behind her ear—his fingers gently stroking her face. She shivered at the contact.

“Red roses are for love,
Cherie.
Do you remember the first time I kissed you? Have you really forgotten how we were, when we were young? We belong together, Louise,” he continued, with a rather sad smile. “Of course, I know you must never leave Paul but, could you consider being my lover? My mistress?”

The question was so unexpected she stared at him in shock, her eyes wide, and her hand covering her mouth.

“It goes on with the nobility all the time,” he assured her. “Even your sanctimonious friend, King William has his affair with the infamous Elizabeth Villiers. They haven’t managed to keep that a secret.” He moved closer, urging, “Tonight, darling—come to me—let me be with you again as I have so longed. I think we need each other right now.”

His declaration left her breathless. Was he serious in suggesting they should begin a liaison? That would break her father’s heart all over again; and even in his present condition, she was positive Paul would know. She thought of the vow she had made to herself all those years ago. That she would always be faithful to her husband.

She answered him quickly. “Dearest Marc, ask me anything but that. You know I have a Calvinist father and, the heart of a Huguenot myself. It may be common in royal households but not among our community. I almost destroyed my soul once for passion. Am I to do that again? No, no, I couldn’t, Marc. It would be a sin against both my faith and my husband.”

He stared at her with such a sorry look, she could hardly bear it, but she continued. “It is true; I never stopped loving you. But I also love Paul deeply, and I owe him so much. He was there for me when you couldn’t be. As long as he lives, I’ll be true to him. Can you understand how I feel?”

“No, Louise, I can’t. However, I do respect your decision. It is final I take it? “

“Yes. It has to be. There’s no way I can do what you ask.”

He nodded his head ruefully but said nothing more. After a few seconds, he turned from her and leaned against the railing watching Alice, the little girl who could never know she was his. Louise was afraid she’d hurt him keenly and put her hand on his arm.

“When is your next trip, Marc?”

“At the end of summer. Jean Guy and I will finally sail to China. We’ll be gone for well over two years, but I think it will be my last trip. It won’t be an easy one, if I go back up that mountain, and there’s someone I want to see again.”

He sighed before he went on. “After that, I’ll stay in London. The company has a job for me in the city, if I want it. There are younger merchants like Jean Guy who are quite willing to do the traveling. I’ve already seen much of the world, and I seem to have lost my taste for roaming the globe. It’s strange, but I find I like England after all.”

“So you plan on settling here, then?”

“I think so. Perhaps I will take your suggestion and start looking for a mistress for my house. I’ll need a good strong son one of these days to take over everything I’ve built up here. I’m sure Paul has taken care of Alice’s future?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “He always thinks of her as his own daughter. He’s been exceedingly fair to her.”

“I know, and I appreciate it. Anyway, Louise, I’ll be off now. I have some business to take care of in London, so I don’t think I’ll be back in time for dinner. I’ll most likely stay over. I’m sure Uncle Pierre will act as host for me. You’ll be going back to Soho tomorrow? Please give my regards to Paul. I hope he knows what a treasure he has.”

Kissing her on each cheek, he bid her
‘adieu’.

Yes, I’ve hurt him, she thought as she watched him leave. But he asks the impossible and he knows it. Will I mind dreadfully if he finds someone he can love? He deserves to be happy. Why does life have to be so complicated?

“Come in now, children,” she called aloud. “I think you’ve all had enough for one day. You should say ‘good bye’ to Uncle Marc. He is going to town; and you all need to have a nap before we eat. Including your Grandpapa,” she added with a smile.

With that, she entered Marc’s house for what she imagined might just be the last time for a long while.

Louise did not see Marc again before he and Jean Guy left for China. At the end of June, the household moved to Oxfordshire for the summer. The country was cooler and much more comfortable for Paul. Talking every day to Pierre about the farm, and touring around the property held on horseback by his special gear, seemed to revive his spirits.

Lucien and the two young apprentices took care of the goldsmith shop, and Louise went back into town once or twice a month to do an inventory of the gold on hand and reconcile her books. She heard no news of Marc until one day while in the shop with Claude.

“Did you hear the latest about Marc?” her brother asked her.

“No, I only hear anything when Jean Guy comes out to Oxford once in a while. He tells me how the plans for their big trip are progressing.”

“I guess Marc keeps quiet about it, but I heard he’s squiring Lady Elizabeth Fitzgerald around town now. She is gorgeous and the daughter of one of the directors of the East India Company. One of our customers is a vintner, and he delivered a large order of wine to the lord’s house for a ball last week. The servants told Monsieur Montague that Lady Elizabeth spends a great deal of time with Marc Garneau. It’s rumoured, they’ll announce an engagement as soon as he returns from the Orient. He’s to have a good position with the company here in London, and won’t have to travel anymore.”

A cold chill ran through her and her heart felt like a ball of lead dropping to her boots. But you knew this could happen, she thought. You can’t be so selfish.

She turned to Claude with a fake smile pasted on her face. “Well, wouldn’t that be lovely for him. He deserves to find a nice wife and settle down.”

Chapter 43

Oxfordshire Twelfth Night, 1695

T
he winter had been cold and wet and, after travelling from Oxfordshire to London on a damp day in November, Paul came down with a fever he could not shake. Two months had passed with no improvement; and now Rene Martin told Louise there was nothing more to be done. Paul was dying.

“It’s that phlegm humour in his lungs I’m afraid. He’s had the asthma symptoms ever since he was in prison. While he led a healthy way of life— riding and exercising—he could fight it. But now I’m afraid he can’t any-more.”

Each day his body weakened a little more. His cough was ragged, and shortness of breath made it difficult for him to speak. Now death seemed inevitable, he appeared almost relieved. He would smile lovingly at her as she read to him, or sat quietly by his bed with her needlework.

However, one day he seemed agitated. He indicated that he had something urgent to discuss; but his constant coughing made speaking almost impossible. The maid brought a drink of hot tea with honey and brandy, which he sipped slowly. Finally, he had enough breath to speak at length.

“Louise, there are things I need to tell you. Things you must know before I die.”

“Paul, don’t say that. In the first place, you are not going to die.”

“Sooner or later it happens to everyone, Louise, and I’m not afraid. I think the Lord will find a place for me on Judgment Day.” He managed another bright smile. “However, I need to speak to you about my Will. Pierre and our solicitor are in charge, of course, but I wish you to know what I’ve arranged and why.”

“I think this could all wait, darling. It’s too hard on you, and I’m sure anything you have done is fine.”

“ Nevertheless, you need to understand. It will help your father if you do. The estate all goes to Peter, of course. It’s the law of entailment. I’ve asked Dr. Renee and your father to be in control of all the assets until Peter reaches majority. There’s no one I trust more than those two men.”

He stopped speaking for a moment. Louise helped him take another drink before he continued.

“The goldsmith shop isn’t part of the estate, so it doesn’t have to be handled that way. I’ve instructed the solicitor to break it into shares now— five shares of twenty percent each. Peter won’t need it, so I’m giving you two shares—forty percent of the company’s worth. Then each of the lads— Claude, Henri and Lucien—will all get one share. That means that you and Claude together will hold the majority, which should keep you safe enough.”

“Oh, darling. That’s extremely generous of you.”

“Well, it’s not unusual for a wife to take over her husband’s business. You understand the financial end of it, and this way you’ll at least be a lady of some means. It’s important for me to know you’re looked after. But I also thought the boys should have shares for all their hard work. Lucien and Claude are true artists, and Henri is a nice enough lad. I hope they will all stay. If they want to go, then you must buy their shares.”

He coughed again, and Louise helped him with another drink of the honeyed tea.

“That’s very kind of you, Paul, and a wonderful opportunity for Claude. But you shouldn’t talk anymore right now. The rest could wait.”

“No, no. I must tell you these things now. There’s more. We’ve arranged for Peter to go to Oxford in time. Perhaps he will want to be a lawyer. That’s what I would like for him.”

“Papa and I will try to persuade him that way, dear. But I do wish you would think about getting better. You must think positive thoughts. They say it helps.”

He looked amused. “I’ll try sweetheart but, in case it’s of no avail, I need to talk about your future. Besides the shares, there’s an annuity, which will bring you a nice income each year. Even if you marry, it will continue. I don’t want you to be totally dependent on some man. In case, he’s not good to you.”

“I can’t bear it when you talk like this, Paul.”

“But it needs to be said, Louise, so we must do it now. We’ve arranged the annuity in such a way that, if you die, it would go to Alice and not your husband. There is also a sum set aside for Alice’s dowry. Pierre will have control of that. Do you think that is fair?”

“You have always been so good to both Alice and me, Paul. Better than I ever deserved.” She could no longer hold back her tears. He patted her hand.

“There’s something else I need to say. It’s concerning you marrying again. Not right away of course but, Louise, in the fullness of time, you
should
marry.”

He hesitated, coughed, and said, “And when you do, I want you to consider marrying your cousin. At first I thought he was a selfish, young man; but I’ve been watching him for a few years now, and I don’t think any man could love someone more than he loves you. I’ve seen the look of longing in his face sometimes and pitied him. In spite of his youth and his looks, I had something he wanted and could not have.”

“I don’t even want to think of such a thing right now. We can’t let you go, Paul. You must be here for your family.”

“I wish that I could. But I don’t think it is to be. I’m so tired now. Too tired to fight anymore. And when the inevitable happens, I don’t want you to be alone too long. You are beautiful and you will have income. There will be many men wanting you and some won’t have your best interest at heart. Sadly, there are other men like Mathurin Mercier around. I know Marc would take care of you and Alice. You must also think of her, as well. Stepfathers can be devilishly evil sometimes. It would be much better for you to marry her real father. We know he loves her dearly.”

“I can’t promise you that, dear. I think there’s someone else he cares for now. But please, just stay with me as long as you can.”

He squeezed her hand with what little strength he had left. Then exhausted, fell into a sound sleep.

Paul rallied for a few days after their discussion, but by the end of the week, the extreme lethargy returned. He no longer gave the impression that he understood what she read to him and, crossly, he would waive away his meals. All he could manage was a little broth and some water. On the first day of February, Renee Martin came for his weekly check of his patient and, after feeling his forehead and his pulse, he shook his head.

“I don’t think he can last more than a day or two, Louise. It’s definitely pneumonia, and he has no strength left to fight it. We could bleed him, but I don’t think it would help. You better prepare the children for the worst.” There were tears in the doctor’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, my dear. You know I love him too. He has been like a brother to me.” He brushed her forehead with a kiss.

Louise shook her head, too overwhelmed with sorrow even to answer him as he turned to leave the room.

After she had explained to the family and the servants, she sat beside his bed far into the night, eventually falling asleep in the big chair. Sometime past midnight, a sound startled her awake. One look at her husband’s face was all she needed to see. Sir Paul Thibault, at the age of forty-seven, had passed away quietly in his sleep.

The day after Paul’s funeral, Claudine and Louise, went looking for Pierre in order to discuss an estate matter with him. They thought they would find him in the large building that accommodated his workshop and the farm office. Young André, busy at the loom, barely looked up. He loved weaving, and often neglected his studies to concentrate on the small tapestries he was gifted at making.

“Where’s Papa?” Claudine asked her son.

“I saw him go into his office not long ago, Maman. He seemed so sad; I thought I’d leave him alone.”

They opened the door to the office quietly and peeked in. Pierre sat, elbows on the desk, with his head in his hands. His shoulders shook with silent sobs. Louise stopped, appalled at her father’s grief. She stepped back letting her mother go to him. It surprised her to see the depth of his feelings for the son-in-law who had been such a loyal friend. Even the death of Jacques had not affected him this way.

“Why, Pierre. You’re crying.” Claudine spoke softly. “Oh, my dear, I know how much you must miss Paul.”

“He was such a good man.” Pierre looked up with a sad smile, wiping his eyes on his sleeves. He seemed not to notice Louise standing in the background. “A kind and generous man and a wonderful friend—and far too young to die like this. That’s the problem. I can’t comprehend his death. I loved Jacques, but he was an adventurer. I understood his death—almost expected it. But Paul—what did he ever do to deserve this? It shakes my faith in our God somewhat.”

“Pierre,
non, non,”
she replied lapsing into French, as she often did at an emotional time. “You must never blame God for such a thing. Only Satan bears the responsibility for a thing this evil. For such jealousy to eat away at a man like Martin Mercier, and cause him to do this bad thing, that can only be the work of the Devil.”

“But why would God allow it then? It must have been Paul’s destiny. But why?”

“I am not clever like Jacques was. He was so well-travelled, and I certainly don’t have his education. But he told you, he didn’t accept Jean Calvin’s strong belief in predestination. Many Huguenots don’t, you know. Paul didn’t, and I’m sure that Louise and Marc don’t anymore either.”

“Louise too? I recall she used to argue with me about it when she was young. What has happened to my authority?”

“They grow up, Pierre. They think for themselves. For me also, predestination no longer makes sense. When Paul was so sick, Louise and I and would sit by his bed, and he would talk to us about his beliefs. He said he could not accept a God that would deliberately cause all the terrible things that happen to people. He didn’t believe that is what the scriptures teach at all. And Louise agreed with him.”

Her husband stared at her with a look of amazement. “How can you say these things to me?”

“Pierre, I have to tell you—I have always gone along with you on our beliefs, but now I think there are other factors. Things like the choices we make; time and unforeseen occurrence; being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Terrible things happen to so many good people. I can no longer accept that all these things are their destiny.”

“But Claudine,” he replied, shock in his voice, “it is the faith of our fathers. Why would dreadful things happen then?”

“Don’t you remember the story of Job? I have often read it to the children. Satan taunted God that he could turn Job, a good and righteous man, away from worshipping Him. All he had to do was make things go wrong for the man. So, God told the Adversary, ‘Go ahead then. Do whatever you want to him. Only don’t kill him.’ But Job stayed loyal. He would not turn against God just because so much went wrong.”

Louise stood perfectly still. Her mother’s bravery stunned her. In matters of faith, her father’s word had always been law. Pierre’s family had looked to him for guidance in doctrine, and yet now it was her submissive mother, who counselled her father. She waited breathlessly for Claudine’s next words.

“I believe that is the answer,” her mother continued. “This was not God’s plan. If anything, the evil one arranged it. He took over Mercier’s mind to try to turn us away from our God. Do not give in to him, husband. Our daughter and our grandchildren will need all the help and all the spiritual guidance we can give them. Let us be strong for them. Let us never lose our conviction, Pierre.”

Pierre sat still for what seemed to Louise like an agonizingly long time. When he spoke, it was with neither sorrow nor anger. “Claudine, you are always so compelling in your quiet and modest way. No matter what has happened to our family you have been there for us, providing the comfort and wisdom we all needed.”