The Silk Weaver

by Liz Trenow

  They returned briefly to Miss Charlotte’s shop, where they offered her reassurance as to Henri’s wellbeing, and then made their way home to Spital Square, exhausted.

  That evening, after supper, Anna managed to corner William. ‘I must speak to you privately,’ she whispered. ‘Later tonight. It is urgent.’

  He took a step towards the door. ‘I am going out,’ he said.

  ‘Remember our pact?’ she said, placing a firm hand on his arm. ‘It still holds, William.’

  He scowled. ‘Very well. I will return by half past ten o’clock. Shall we meet in the office? We are less likely to be disturbed there.’

  ‘That is less than two hours,’ she said, glancing at the clock on the mantel. ‘Mind you are back in time, William.’

  He was late, of course, and she waited with increasing impatience as the candle burned lower and lower. She lit another and took out some of the pattern books to pass the time, turning the pages in a desultory fashion, but found it impossible to concentrate. So much rested on this meeting.

  Finally the handle turned and he entered, breathless and dishevelled.

  ‘So what’s all this secrecy about, then?’ It was clear he’d been drinking but this might even work to her advantage.

  ‘Take a seat and listen carefully.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, tugging at an imaginary forelock.

  As she explained her suspicion that he had been in the area of The Dolphin the night of Guy’s trial, he began to shake his head.

  ‘Bethnal Green? Never go there,’ he said. ‘Not a place for a man of my standing.’

  ‘You see, someone I know saw you there. In an alley close to the pub.’

  He shook his head more violently this time.

  ‘You were with a woman, William. Don’t deny it, or I might find myself having to tell someone that you consort with whores.’

  The smug grin fell from his face. ‘So?’ he snapped. ‘Every man does it, Anna, you poor little innocent. And anyway, you’ll never prove it.’

  ‘As I said, someone recognised you. They know your voice, and your face, too.’

  ‘And this someone is?’

  ‘A silk weaver who was wrongly arrested that night, and who desperately needs your testimony to prove his innocence.’

  ‘A frog, I’ll warrant. Send the lot of them home, I say. We’d be better off without them.’

  Anna rose from the chair and began to pace, trying to control her fury. ‘Yes, a Frenchman. A man who I know to be honest and respectable. A man who does not dissemble, or cheat, or lie. He is a dear friend, and that is the reason Father and I have returned to the city. A terrible miscarriage of justice has occurred and his friends have asked for our help.’ She stopped and glared at him. ‘If you do not admit to this, I will tell Uncle Joseph about the cash you stole.’

  Now William stood too, bearing over her just as he’d done in this very room all those months ago. This time she was not afraid. ‘You little . . .’ he hissed. ‘You expect me to help that filthy cur in the alley who puked all over my boots? I can’t believe it.’

  He’s admitted it, she thought to herself, silently enjoying a sweet moment of triumph. There is no way back for him now. ‘I do, William,’ she said calmly. ‘If you testify that you saw him in the alleyway that night when the Guards arrived, there will be no mention of the whore, nor of the stolen cash. You may not even have to appear at the trial.’

  ‘I will do nothing, you understand, nothing, if there is any chance my name will be splattered all over the newspapers. I will only talk if we can do this discreetly.’

  ‘If we move quickly, we may be able to get the charges lifted altogether. But at present he only has the support of a legal clerk. We need a proper lawyer, with contacts at the Inns of Court and at the prison.’ She paused for a second, allowing him time to catch up with her thoughts. ‘I think you know who I have in mind.’

  He looked blank for a moment and then his eyes widened with incredulity. ‘Charles? Phuh! He threw you over, didn’t he? And he hasn’t spoken to me since Pa’s disgrace.’

  ‘But you know about his gambling debts, don’t you?’

  After a second of confusion, William burst out laughing. ‘God’s teeth, Anna, you are a little minx. First you blackmail me, then you ask me to blackmail my friend.’ She maintained her severe expression, and his laughter stopped as suddenly as it had started. ‘You’re not serious?’

  ‘I have never been more serious in my life.’

  He sighed, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘Very well. I will visit him. But only if you come too.’

  She let out a slow breath and the tightness in her neck and back began to ease. We’re nearly there, she thought.

  William sat down again. ‘So let me get this right. You’ve returned to London to get this cabbage head out of gaol? Just why is he so important to you, Cousin Anna?’

  She refused to be drawn. ‘A mutual friend wrote to me, asking for our help.’

  ‘I did not know you were friendly with frogs.’

  ‘You have no cause to be rude about the French. They weave fine silk, do they not, and you have made a fair penny from their labours?’ Anna relit her candle from the nearly exhausted stub on the table, ready to take her leave. It was cold in the room, and she was weary from the day’s emotions. ‘Besides which, the mutual friend is Miss Charlotte. She is not French.’

  ‘Miss Charlotte?’ He paused, his mind seeming to wander elsewhere. ‘Now there’s a thought.’

  ‘What kind of thought, William? It is late and I wish to retire.’

  ‘You heard Pa at suppertime last evening, blathering on about how well he knows the market and how only he knows how to find silks that will steal the new queen’s heart?’

  She waited.

  ‘The truth is he doesn’t have a clue. He’s out of date and all his contacts are too old. They dressed the last queen, decades ago, for heaven’s sake! This one is only eighteen and will want the very latest fashions – or at least that’s what her costumiers will be advising her to want – as will the courtiers and other guests. We need advice from someone who really knows.’

  It was Anna’s turn to be incredulous. ‘You want me to ask Miss Charlotte if she will advise you? Have you forgotten how poorly she was treated by your mother and her cronies? They deserted her and took their business elsewhere, if you remember.’

  ‘Look,’ he said, rising to his feet and lighting his own candle. ‘You have asked me for a favour – two favours. The least you can do in return is ask her for me. We desperately need a couple of good commissions to get us out of debt, Anna. The fine has been deferred for two months but if we don’t pay it we’ll be in the Marshalsea before you can say Mecklenburg-Strelitz.’

  The response was cool, but at least he agreed to meet them.

  Come to my chambers 12 noon tomorrow. Charles.

  She was dreading it: begging a favour from the man who had spurned her, having to endure his pitying looks and patronising tone. But if it achieved a reprieve for Henri, then anything was worthwhile.

  It was a crisp sunny day as she and William walked to Gray’s Inn. She had only been here in the dark before – for the ball – and was surprised by the spacious beauty of the place. The chambers buildings, clustered around peaceful courtyards and cloistered walkways, reminded her of the cathedral close at Norwich she had once visited with her father. An air of privilege and learning suffused the green spaces and ancient buildings. It was a far cry from the chaotic, noisy streets of East London just a few miles away.

  Charles’s rooms were less impressive: on the third floor, chilly, cramped and sparsely furnished, and clearly shared with several others. Fortunately, they found him alone.

  ‘Miss Butterfield, William, welcome to my humble lodgings,’ he said, pulling up two rackety chairs. ‘To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’

  William looked at Anna. ‘You start.’

  She explained the bare bones of the story: that she had a
friend who had been wrongly arrested and needed the help of a lawyer to get him out of prison. ‘We have found a witness to attest to his innocence, but the witness cannot risk appearing in public should the case go to court. So we must get the charges dropped, before that eventuality,’ she explained.

  Her little speech elicited a surprising response. Instead of the surly reluctance she’d expected, Charles leaned forward and listened attentively. When she finished, he leaned back in his chair and smiled genially.

  ‘It sounds just up my street, this little case. I’m flattered that you have come to consult me,’ he said. ‘I have been looking forward to my first real commission – so far all I’ve had is the dross the others don’t want to deal with. The experience will be very helpful when I come to apply for acceptance at the bar.’

  Anna steeled herself. ‘There is just one small matter, Charles. You know our situation only too well. Neither we nor the defendant have any money to pay you. We are asking you to do this pro bono, that’s the legal phrase, isn’t it?’ Her father had used the words the previous evening, when she’d told him of her plan.

  The smile fell instantly from Charles’s face. ‘And you have the nerve—’

  William interrupted. ‘You and I have been good friends, have we not, for many years? And in that time we have both had our ups and downs?’ Charles narrowed his eyes as William went on. ‘It was last year, wasn’t it, that you fell on hard times yourself, my friend? When you were in it up to your neck and you came to me desperate to borrow money? I didn’t have any, of course, but I knew someone who could help you make the debts go away. Or has that slipped your memory?’

  Charles began to pace the small area in front of the fireplace.

  ‘In my situation, as a pupil,’ he gestured around the scruffy little room, ‘I have to be totally above board, in everything I do. I cannot take on pro bono cases at will, without the say-so of my masters. And they are unlikely to agree, because I have to prove I can earn money for the chambers. Surely you understand my difficulty here?’

  ‘We understand it only too well,’ William said. ‘And it certainly wouldn’t do for word to get out that you resorted to threatening someone’s life to relieve you of your debt, would it?’

  Anna’s mouth almost fell open – Charles threatened to kill someone?

  ‘It wasn’t me who did the threatening.’

  ‘But it was you who paid the man who did the threatening,’ William said. ‘And that man will sing, if I ask him.’

  Charles stopped pacing, ripped off his wig and threw it across the room. He rubbed his head and sighed loudly.

  ‘Bloody hell, William. You leave me with little choice. But I will remember this, mark my words.’

  ‘Just do the business and we’ll be square,’ William said calmly. ‘Now, Anna, would you like to brief our learned friend?’

  On the way back from the Inns, William suggested they call in at a coffee house. Anna had never set foot inside one before, and was curious. The place was very warm, with a huge cauldron hung over a roaring fire, and rough wooden benches around tables crowded with groups of men reading newspapers or engaged in intense and sometimes heated discussions.

  Their entrance attracted a fair number of stares: the only other woman was behind the serving hatch. ‘I suppose it’s not done for women to frequent these places?’ she said, as they searched for an empty table.

  ‘Men come here to conduct business mainly. Mother would have a fit if she knew I’d brought you here,’ he said with a grin. ‘But who cares? I thought you might enjoy seeing another side of city life.’

  ‘I want to keep company with people because I like them, not for how far they can pull me up the social ladder.’ It felt good, admitting this to William. Despite his insufferable prejudices and insalubrious habits, they had one thing in common. He, too, was a bit of a rebel.

  The coffee arrived and she took a sip of the dark, bitter liquid, stronger than any she’d ever tasted before. ‘You kept that quiet: Charles threatening someone to get out of paying his debts.’

  ‘I like to keep my powder dry,’ William said with a smirk. ‘It was satisfying to see the creep squirm.’

  ‘Will he keep his side of the bargain, do you think?’

  ‘I’m certain of it. The alternative would be unthinkable, in his position. You’ve had me over a barrel with this business, Anna, but in a strange kind of way I’m enjoying it. Of course I consort with prostitutes, what man doesn’t? I’m no saint. I drink a pint or two, and sometimes associate with some pretty unsavoury characters. But if I can get an innocent man freed without having my name all over the newspapers, it will be worth it.’

  ‘Even a Frenchman?’

  ‘We hate the French because we’ve been at war with them for years, and because there are just too many flooding into our city and taking our jobs. But I’ve nothing against individuals; I have to admit they are bloody good weavers and designers. And talking of designers, it’s time for you to deliver your part of the bargain. Drink up. We’re going to call in on Miss Charlotte on our way home.’

  The seamstress was busy with a customer, so they were offered seats in the back room and waited quietly, listening through the open door as Miss Charlotte pulled out bolts of fabric for the lady to consider.

  ‘It’s called the new naturalism,’ they heard her explain. ‘Delicate colours, fine design and, above all, natural forms. Nothing too large or overly obvious, of course. And see the curved lines, just like in nature. Straight lines and geometric designs are too severe for a beautiful young woman like you.’

  ‘It’s all so charming, I cannot choose,’ the customer sighed.

  ‘Of course you could always consider calico,’ Miss Charlotte said. ‘On cotton, the designs can be printed. It’s very à la mode.’

  ‘Oh no, it has to be silk. Mama would not have me seen in cotton, not for formal, anyway.’

  William whispered, ‘It’s the perfect lesson.’

  ‘But will you-know-who and her friends want to have just what everyone else wants?’ Anna whispered back. ‘Or will they be after something different, to be distinctive?’

  ‘How can anyone know what that difference needs to be?’

  ‘That’s the thing about fashion,’ Anna said. ‘Everyone has to guess what the next big thing is likely to be, before it has arrived.’

  When the young lady left, Miss Charlotte joined them.

  ‘What news of Henri?’

  ‘Nothing, as yet,’ Anna said. ‘But things are looking hopeful. Charlotte, meet my cousin William, silk mercer, of Sadler and Son.’ He bowed, she curtseyed. ‘We have been to see a friend of William’s who is a lawyer at the Inns. And we believe we have found a witness who will testify that although Henri was in the area of The Dolphin, he was not with the Bold Defiance men.’

  ‘A witness! Oh, I can hardly believe it.’ Charlotte flushed with pleasure, fanning her face with her hand. ‘How wonderful. You must tell me as soon as you have news.’

  ‘I promise,’ Anna said. ‘But I have brought William here on another matter.’

  ‘Of course. Please, come and sit down.’

  As William explained about the search for the perfect samples of fabric to tempt a princess, the smile on Miss Charlotte’s face grew wider.

  ‘Every mercer in the land is on the same quest,’ she said. ‘But you are the first to consult me. I am most flattered, sir.’

  ‘What would be your advice, please?’

  ‘I can tell you what the ladies like to wear today and could have a stab at predicting what they will want to wear tomorrow. But the princess is German and will have her own ideas; who knows what she may fancy? Fashion is always a gamble and you need a little touch of magic to stay ahead. But one thing is certain: whatever she chooses will instantly become the very latest thing among society ladies. Everyone will seek to copy, but whoever gets it right in the first place will make their fortune while the others are trying to catch up.’

  ‘We’ll ju
st take a little bag of that magic dust, please,’ he said. ‘I am sure you have some tucked away in your storeroom, do you not?’

  Charlotte grinned. ‘Indeed, I wish I had. But what I do have is up here.’ She tapped her forehead. ‘Give me some time to think on it.’

  As they rose to leave, her eyes suddenly widened. She clasped Anna’s arm. ‘I’ve had an idea: did Henri finish weaving your design, do you know?’

  ‘He wrote that he was starting, but . . .’ Anna shook her head. ‘Surely, you are not thinking . . . ?’

  ‘It’s perfect. Modern, very naturalistic and a little quirky. The line of beauty, remember? Those subtle points rentrées? It just might catch the eye, among all those other submissions.’

  ‘What the devil is all this about?’ William muttered.

  Anna ignored him, too astonished to explain. ‘Charlotte, are you seriously suggesting that my design might be suitable to be considered for the royal trousseau?’

  Charlotte nodded. ‘If he has woven it well, and since it was for his master piece I feel sure that he will have done, what is there to lose?’

  22

  Above all things learn to put a due value on time, and husband every moment, as if it were to be your last. In time is comprehended all we possess, enjoy, or wish for; and in losing that, we lose them all.

  – Advice for apprentices and journeymen

  OR A sure guide to gain both esteem and an estate

  The visit from Anna and her father had, briefly, given Henri heart.

  If I ever get out of here, I will do everything to regain her friendship, he promised himself. But this flicker of hope was followed by an even deeper despair when an official arrived to tell him that his trial had been set for the following week. The prospect of release seemed more distant than ever, and he had almost lost hope of ever getting out of prison alive, save for the journey to the gibbet.