The Silk Weaver's Daughter (35 page)

“I think he is so elegant,” she whispered to Louise.

Many of the guests had already arrived. As they entered the ballroom, the servants offered them French champagne, caviar and other
hors d’oeuvres.
Louise stood with her mother and father in the foyer ready to greet the newcomers. She kept eyeing the entrance nervously. Her footman, brought in from the London house for the occasion, announced the visitors as they entered the hall.

“Mr. Marc Garneau and Master Lee Garneau,” the man at last proclaimed.

Her hands were clammy and once again, her heart pounded in her ears. Marc entered the room, as striking as ever. His black, curly hair still fell to his shoulders, but Louise immediately noticed a subtle difference in him. The boyishness was gone. There was now an older, more distinguished look about him. Here, was a man, completely sure of himself, and yet without an air of arrogance.

The intense gaze he gave her utterly stunned her. He extended his hands and held on to both of hers as he kissed each cheek. “How are you, dear Cousin?” he asked. “Please accept my condolences about Paul. He was a good man. I admired him a great deal. I’m sure that he is sorely missed in the city.”

“Thank you,” she said rather breathlessly. “He had a fine funeral, and even King William attended, despite his own grief over Queen Mary’s recent death. It was gratifying to see how well liked Paul was in so many quarters. But, Marc. How wonderful to see you. We’re so glad you’re home safe.”

Her eyes dropped to the little boy beside him, and she almost gasped at the exquisiteness of him. He reminded her of an exotic painting she had once seen. His black hair was as curly as his father’s and his eyes as blue, but they slanted provocatively in a pale, alabaster face. He looked a little frightened; even so, the almond-shaped eyes held a twinkle, as if laughter would come easy to him.

“This is my son,” Marc said, looking straight into her eyes. “His name is Lee Marc Garneau.”

“He is stunning, Marc. Does he understand English?”

“Yes. At least enough to be polite.” Marc laughed. “We had time to give him a lot of lessons on the ship. French, as well. This is your
Tante
Louise, Lee—Jean Guy‘s sister. Didn’t I tell you, she was a beautiful lady— like an angel?”

“I happy to meet you,
Tante
Louise. It is great pleasure.”

With tears in her eyes, she bent down to the boy and hugged him for a second or two. “The pleasure is all mine, Lee,” she said, smiling at Marc, who flushed, but returned her smile with his familiar, impish one.

“Thank you,
Cherie,”
he replied softly. “And now perhaps he should meet his cousins. They will want to take him upstairs for the evening, I believe.”

She nodded, and the man and boy moved on. Her father was watching her with a bemused look, but she smiled placidly at him, and then turned to greet two new guests who had just arrived.

The dinner was an enormous success, and it appeared no one thought it odd that Marc should be there with a young son. He was a fine-looking child and the eastern blood seemed only to have enhanced his beauty. Louise was convinced that London Society would take him to their hearts. However, even if they didn’t, she certainly planned to do so. She loved him at first sight and would have no qualms about including him in whatever her relationship with Marc was to be. It seemed the children had all gotten along remarkably well, which pleased her. Alice and Peter’s nanny told her that Lee, although being a quiet and well-behaved little boy, laughed a great deal and eagerly joined in the games. He reminded her of Marc as a child.

Before the evening was over, Marc approached her. “Louise, my son and I are staying at the house in Hampton, and I’ll be there with him for a week or so. He’s an adaptable little boy for one so young, but I don‘t want to leave him right away. After I get him settled, I’ll go back to the city to do some work, and I’d like to visit you. I do want to hear about Paul. I hope he didn’t suffer too much at the end. May I see you then?”

“Of course, Marc. I still go to the goldsmith shop for the bookkeeping on Friday’s. But I’ll look forward to seeing you at the house, whichever other day is convenient.”

They appeared so formal with each other she didn’t know what to make of this upcoming visit. He certainly didn’t sound like a suitor.

Chapter 45

London, February 1696

I
t was over a month before Marc made an appearance. Louise had almost given up on him. The anniversary of Paul’s death passed and, once again, she felt lonely and depressed. She had stayed at the manor with her parents during that time, but now she was back in the London townhouse. The children had returned home with her to continue their schooling.

Sitting with a cup of chocolate after breakfast in the morning room, she picked up her embroidery. She was decorating a special dress for the new baby her sister expected. The day after the dinner party, Catherine and Edward informed the family that a new little member would arrive in the summer.

At least the rest of the family is happy in this new life, she mused. Coming to England was advantageous for all of us in many ways; but I do miss Paul so much. Will it always hurt like this?

She sighed, and turned to her needlework.

The front doorbell jangled and shortly afterwards the butler came in to announce, “Monsieur Marc Garneau is here to see you, Madame. I had him wait in the parlour for you.”

“Thank you, Herbert.” Her heart began those unpredictable palpitations again, and she found it difficult to reply. “Would you tell him I’ll be down in about five minutes and ask cook for fresh coffee for him?”

She ran up the stairs to her room. Don’t get too excited, she warned herself. He may have come to tell you, he is marrying the beautiful Lady Elizabeth. Although I don’t know, what her family would think about the little boy.

Hannah helped her change into a pale pink dress that complimented her colouring. Her cheeks looked flushed, so she dabbed a little powder on them, but it didn’t seem to help. When she could no longer avoid going down, she descended the stairs and entered the parlour. It reminded her of the day he had first come to visit Paul here at the house and discovered Alice. Once more, she felt shy with Marc. Having a husband had protected her from his charm.

He put down his cup and stood as she entered the room. He took both her hands and kissed her in the French mode. “Hello,
Cherie,
I have missed you so.” He let her go and stepped back to look at her.

“I imagine that you have been kept busy since your return from the orient.” She spoke rather quickly to hide her agitation. “Please have a seat, Marc. I’m anxious to hear all about your adventures. Did your little boy adjust to the Hampstead house?”

“Yes, but it took longer than I thought,” he said, sitting directly across from the settee she chose. “Everything here is so different from China and he’s not quite eight. There have been many arrangements to make. I’ve finally found a nanny he’s taken to and a tutor for his lessons. I’m beginning to understand that children take quite a lot of one’s time.” He grinned at her then, roguish as always.

“What about your future? Will you still be gone a lot?”

“No. I’ve decided I no longer wish to travel so much. Although some day, I’ll take Lee back for a visit to China, and I’ll continue to import the teas from there. My good friend in Canton—Li Jang—can look after the buying for me. Jean Guy will contact him each trip he makes. The problems the East India Company had with Canton have all been sorted out.”

He picked his cup and quickly drained it. “I’ve learned a good deal about the Company over the last few years; so I’ve been given a good position here in head office. I also have plans to build up a business here in London. It will be costly and challenging, but I think it might bring in a great deal of money in the end.”

Louise stood and poured him another cup of coffee, nodding for him to continue.

“I’ve bought four coffee houses—all in excellent locations—but I am going to try promote them as tearooms, which is a new concept here. I suppose I’m taking a bit of a chance. But Li Jang knows tea better than anyone else in Canton, so these will be extra fine blends. I think the drink has great potential. It seems to aid people’s health.”

He stopped to take another sip and one of the petite fours the maid brought. It occurred to her that he wasn’t as poised as she remembered him. He seemed to be babbling, she thought. Why, he’s as nervous as I am; I’ve never seen him like this.

“It’s because you have to boil the water,” he continued. “Helps the humors they say. I’ve been working on my ideas since I got home, which has kept me busy, as well. I’m sorry I didn’t get here as soon as I had hoped—I have so much to say to you…”

“Well, of course I understand and I’m glad to see you now,” she broke in to forestall him. There was a moment of awkward silence, then, “Marc…?” Her tone implied a question.

“Yes, Louise?” His reply, the same.

“Perhaps it isn’t my business. However, I
am
your cousin and Alice is Li’s half-sister. Do you feel like telling me about the little fellow’s mother? She must have been exquisite.”

“Yes, she was—in an eastern way. I met her when I went up the mountain to the villages where the tea grows. Actually, she was Korean, not Chinese. Li Jang tells me that some of the most beautiful women in the Orient are Korean. She certainly was.”

“Did you seduce her?” She blushed at her audacity, but she needed to know.

“No, dear,” he replied with a slight smile. “I would say she rather seduced me.”

He paused as if groping for words. “I don’t mind telling
you,
but for the sake of the boy, I’m not mentioning it to anyone else. Society in this country can be cruel, and I don’t want him scorned. His mother was a courtesan. Do you know what that means?

“Yes, of course I do. Well, then, can you be sure that you are Lee’s father?”

He laughed out loud, looking relaxed for the first time since he arrived. “You won’t understand how funny that is, Louise,” he replied. “You’ve seen his head of curls and his eyes. I can assure you, it’s most unlikely that there was another tea merchant in that village—at that time—with anything but straight, black hair and even blacker eyes. Oriental men seldom have curly hair. Nor blue eyes. No, there’s no doubt he is mine. And, you understand, Mei Ling would have known how to prevent a child.”

Her hand went to her mouth. “Oh, I see. So she wanted your baby. Well, yes, he certainly looks like you. And quite a lot like Alice.”

“The friend I mentioned, Li Jang—the Cantonese merchant, goes up the mountain to the factories every summer. When he went back that next year, Mei Ling had this baby. He was only three months old, but Jang recognized immediately he had to be my son. She had called him Li Mac. She never could say Marc. She was very ill when he found her, so he had both of them taken down the mountain to his house in Canton. He has two wives, and they weren’t happy with the situation, but they looked after the baby when she died. In any case, they would never have dared go against Li Jang‘s wishes. Needless to say, it pleased them when I wanted to bring him back to England.”

“Were you in love with her, Marc?”

“I’ll be honest. Outside of you, she is one of the few women who ever totally intrigued me. I’m not sure what I felt for her. The trip up the mountain was more difficult than I had ever imagined and I was exhausted. The higher altitude had something to do with it, they tell me. Although, I’ve often wondered if it wasn’t more than that. Perhaps I was drugged—maybe opium. I felt drowsy all the time. Jang and I discussed it, and he thinks that Mei Ling would do that to get what she wanted. Everything seemed so strange and unreal at the time—somewhat euphoric. Something like what the Hindus call nirvana, I guess.” He paused, looking into the distance.

“She had a depth to her that went well beyond her status and she was remarkably intuitive. I don’t think she was really amoral, just a victim of her circumstance. She had been kidnapped as a child and forced into slavery.”

He took another sip of his coffee before continuing.

“I missed you so much, and she was more than willing—perhaps she wanted the child of a Caucasian. So—it happened. When I see my son, I’m not so sure I’m sorry. I love him tremendously, Louise. Can you understand that?”

“Yes, of course I can. I wouldn’t give up Alice for the world, although being pregnant with her terrified me at the time. I felt so guilty. But yes— somehow the results alleviate the problems encountered.”

“Louise.” Suddenly he put down his cup and was on his feet. He crossed over to her, and sitting down beside her on the settee, took both her hands in his. “I can stand this no longer—all this—this little talk. I must speak to you once again about the great love I have for you. Try as I might, I cannot disregard my feelings for you. I know you sincerely cared for Paul. But I’ve been positive the night he was shot that you loved me, as well. More than as a cousin. Do you still?”

He looked into her eyes with a pleading look. “I—I tried to wait a decent length of time from the anniversary of Paul’s death, but I can no longer keep silent. Oh my darling, could we start again? Of course, there’s my little boy now, but is there any way you could love me, and my son as well?”

His urgency surprised her. She felt he deserved an honest answer. She looked directly into his eyes. “Yes. I love you, Marc, Definitely more than a cousin does. Perhaps I never stopped. And I already love your son. But everyone was talking about Lady Elizabeth. They told me, you were going to be married. I assumed that’s what you came to tell me.”

“I like her very much. We’ve been great friends and before I left on this last trip, she honoured me by being the hostess at some of my business functions. But we have never been in love. She’s soon to marry a lord who’s overseeing the East India Company in Bombay. A good comrade of mine, in fact. Elizabeth knows how I feel about you. She’s told me not to give up this time.”

She started to speak.

“Wait, dear.” He put his finger on her lips. “I once told you, I am more sinner than saint, and you have seen the truth of that. Over these last few years and especially during the trip back from China, I’ve had time to think about my life. And I find that having a son has changed my viewpoint on many things.”

Louise smiled at that. “Yes, I know what you mean. Children certainly do that.”

“I want the boy to grow up with the moral and spiritual values of our people. I know in order for that to happen, I’ll have to do better myself. I’m many things, Louise, but I’m not a hypocrite. Will you marry me, and help me bring up my son in our faith? I’ll soon be an old man, and I want only you to be the mother of any more children I might…”

He stopped speaking as she gave a startled cry.

“Why, sweetheart, what’s wrong? What have I said?”

“Oh, Marc. I’m sorry, but I can’t marry you. It wouldn’t be fair. Of course, you don’t know—you weren’t here for Peter’s birth. Things went wrong—the baby was breeched. They used a tool to turn him. Otherwise, I’d have died; but it ruined me—inside.”

“My poor darling. No, I didn’t hear that. By the time I got home, you and Peter were both fine and Paul was in prison. We were all so concerned about him.”

“I can’t have any more children, Marc. At least the doctor didn’t think it would be possible. That was over five years ago and—well—I didn’t get pregnant again even before Paul’s injury.”

He looked shocked for a moment. Then both his arms went around her, and he held her to his heart, kissing her tear-filled eyes to erase her sorrow.

“Cherie—
don’t cry. It wouldn’t matter to me. We know Alice is ours— you have Peter and I have Lee. We’ll be a family. It’s all we need if we have each other. Say you’ll marry me soon. Louise—please, darling—I need you so.”

For the first time in many months, joy swept through her. It was certainly what she wanted. But for some reason, she was still hesitant. “If I am to marry again it would only be you. But we should be cautious. We have both experienced so much, and it has altered us. Perhaps you won’t love this older, wiser me as much as you did the young, romantic version. And, as you say, there will always be Peter.”

“You think I haven’t seen the changes in you and marvelled at them?” Mark sighed. “You have gotten more beautiful and desirable with time. As for Peter, I promise you that I would love and care for Paul’s son the same as he cared for my daughter. I’ll do it gladly.”

He still held her against his breast, while they sat in silence for a few minutes. Finally, he spoke again. “I’ll make you a promise, sweetheart. I am going to court you quite properly, and in six months, I shall make you mine forever. I don’t think you can escape me this time.”

She looked up at him, so virile and handsome. She did not believe for one moment that he was through with travel. She had known him all her life, and he had always sought excitement over ease. If she said ‘yes’ to him, her life would be totally different. With Paul, she had found safety and contentment with a kind and gentle man. He had loved her dearly and she had responded to his tenderness.

With Marc, she would travel to the ends of the earth, if he wanted, and would soar to heights yet unknown. The feelings she had for him as a girl came flooding back. He was as exciting to her now as he had always been and it was impossible to resist him. Suddenly, she laughed with glee. “I don’t want to escape you, Mark Garneau. You make me happy. You always have. Perhaps we don’t have to wait too long. After all, we do know each other extremely well and my mourning period is over. People won’t consider it improper. I think a May wedding would be most appropriate.”