New World, New Love (2 page)

As soon as they were seated Louise gave the coachman an address she had been given by Captain Hooper during the voyage. When writing it down for her, he had pointed out that it was some time since he was last in New York, but it was a respectable lodging house and he saw no reason why it should have closed in his absence.

In all, he had been helpful to his passengers. She knew he had been aware of not paying her nearly enough for the pearl earbobs she had sold him, but the transaction had supplied her with necessary currency. Not only did she have dollars in her purse now, but also some English golden guineas. They were still legal tender in America even though now in 1794 it was nearly eleven years since the last of the British troops had left the country’s newly independent soil.

Captain Hooper had also chosen not to question the travelling papers that she and Delphine had presented upon boarding his ship, for he must have guessed that they were of dubious origin. Again, when he had seen that a French warship was coming alongside not long after the
Ocean Maid
had set sail, he had taken the precaution of sending all his French passengers below and replied to the shouted demand that he only had Americans on board. For all that, Louise knew she would always be grateful.

As the dock gates were left behind, Delphine could hardly sit still in her excitement. ‘Now we’re really here, Louise! Isn’t it wonderful to know we’re safe at last?’

Louise agreed, her feelings running deep, and momentarily she had to fight against the dark shadows of the past before casting a thoughtful glance at her sister. Delphine had had a bleak time of it in recent years and had missed all the pleasures that would have been hers if circumstances and the terrible Revolution had not changed the whole course of their lives. Louise hoped to find ways to make it up to her in time to come, although not with too much indulgence, hard as that might be, for Delphine with her volatile nature could be headstrong and foolish at times.

Yet weighing against that was the courage the girl had shown during the long months they had been in hiding from the revolutionaries and again during their desperate escape. There was also her warm heart and her deep need to be loved at all times. Louise knew she was her sister’s only anchor. For herself she had only one overwhelming resolve in this new country, which was that never again would she allow anyone or anything to take her freedom from her.

At first the district beyond New York’s harbour was mainly industrial with factories and workshops, tanneries and slaughterhouses, smithies noisy with ringing blows on anvils, whirring machinery and shouting workmen, some of whom were emerging raucously from one of the many taverns. But before long, after the carriage had passed an old fort in the distance that was flying the Stars and Stripes, the city opened up into streets lined with trees, some still not in bud, others tinted with fresh young green. Some of the houses were of wood, but most were in grey stone or russet-red brick. Now and again there would be a row of tall, narrow houses with interesting gables that hugged each other as if there was no room to spare. Louise guessed these had been built at the time when the Dutch had dominated the city they had called New Amsterdam.

On all sides there was traffic, every kind of vehicle on wheels from the elegant to the humble and any number of riders on horseback. The sparkling air seemed vibrant with prosperity and opportunity. Louise drew a deep breath in anticipation of the future.

Both sisters took eager notice of the fashions. It was a long time since they had seen so many well-dressed people, although as in any city there were the poor as well as the beggars in rags to be seen. Most of the women’s skirts were still full over petticoats, although there was a definite trend towards a slimmer line with those more aware of fashion. The majority of men were wearing tricorne hats and flared jackets with their knee breeches, as had been worn for many years, but here and there were those who had taken to the new style of well-cut coat with tight pantaloons that had suited so well the stranger on the wharf.

Now and again Delphine inhaled deeply the aromas that drifted from street stalls where hot snacks were being sold, the traders shouting encouragement to buy.

‘How delicious!’ she exclaimed ecstatically. ‘I’d forgotten there was still good food in the world.’ She had spoken in English and her command of it was fluent, Louise having coached her daily when they were in hiding and again on the voyage. As the coachman took them into a long wide street, she leaned forward to question him. ‘Where are we now?’

He looked back over his shoulder at her, his ruddy face creasing against his high collar. ‘This is Lower Broadway. You have to be in the money to live here.’

Delphine almost sprang out of her seat as she looked eagerly from side to side. ‘This is where Maman’s cousin lives! I wonder which house it is.’

Louise wondered too as she viewed the large mansions. All of them had gleaming windows and recessed entrances with well-polished brass doorknockers or bell-pulls. She had the address tucked in with her belongings and would look at it later. She had been a child when a quiet young man from the New World, named Theodore Bradshaw, had swept Cousin Madeleine so completely off her feet. It had been a surprise to everyone, for she had had so many suitors whom she had refused. Although the couple had toured Italy and Greece to view the antiquities for a year after the wedding, he had eventually taken her home to New York.

Soon along this splendid street, as in the other streets they had passed through, there were many shops and coffee houses, establishments for chocolate drinking as well as reading rooms, bookshops, taverns, pastry cooks and jewellers. Here and there were stables and harness makers. Brass plaques on some of the fine buildings indicated the presence of lawyers, insurers and bankers. Louise spotted a library and promised herself a visit. She was interested to see that although all the shops had brightly painted trade signs extending over their doors, not all displayed their wares in the windows as in Paris and also in London. She mentioned it to Delphine, whose quick reply was sharp-edged.

‘You forget I know nothing of that! I never had the chance to visit Tante Violette in England after she married there. You were the one privileged to dance about in London, Paris and Versailles. I was always at home.’ Then she forgot old grievances at the sight of a particularly fashionable woman getting into a carriage. ‘Oh, look! Her coat is apricot silk and there are matching plumes on her hat!’ She turned eagerly to Louise. ‘When shall we have something new to wear?’

‘We’ll see about it tomorrow,’ Louise promised willingly. Except for the gowns they were wearing, which had been kept for this day of arrival, the few garments they had with them had suffered through being washed in buckets of sea water. As soon as they had an outfit each in which to present themselves to prospective employers, she would find work for herself and a suitable place for Delphine. She was lucky in having her jewellery still in her possession and a piece could be sold when money was needed. She also had in her safekeeping a few fine pieces that Delphine had inherited but she was determined that these should never be sold. It was her fervent hope that with better times her sister would be able to wear them, which was something she had never had the chance to do at home.

As Delphine continued to chatter happily like a child about all she was seeing, Louise smiled, pleased to see her sister so merry after all they had been through together. Although thin from their recent poor diet – Louise was aware of her own gown loose on her – Delphine was still exceptionally lovely with her piquant, almost elfin looks and her curling, copper-red hair inherited from their late mother.

The carriage turned into a narrow side street and Delphine’s exuberance waned as it drew up outside a moderately sized, tawny brick house, the woodwork in need of a coat of paint.

‘Do we really have to stay here?’ she protested sulkily. But Louise was already getting out of the carriage. The door was opened by a plump, middle-aged woman, a white frilled cap on her tightly curled grey hair.

‘Good morning, Mrs Ford.’ Louise handed over a message that Captain Hooper had written for the woman. ‘We have just landed in New York from the
Ocean Maid
. Captain Hooper suggested we should seek accommodation here.’

‘Oh, he’s in port again, is he?’ She read the message through before regarding the sisters on her doorstep with narrowed, assessing eyes. ‘You both speak English? Good! He has remembered that I don’t deal with folk who can’t understand me.’ Her glance swept Louise up and down. ‘You’re a widow, ma’am?’ She paused before attempting Louise’s surname. ‘De Vailly? Is that right? And you’re with your sister?’ Her glance went to Delphine. ‘Miss de Montier?’

‘That’s correct,’ Louise replied.

‘Well, I’ve only one room left, but it should suit you.’ She led the way upstairs. There was a reassuringly clean aroma of beeswax and newly washed floors.

The room shown to them was small but adequately furnished. Louise paid two weeks’ rent in advance as requested. In turn Mrs Ford offered the use of the laundry tub in the basement and, for a little more money, hot water in the bathhouse. The sisters accepted eagerly the chance to bathe away the effects of their voyage. Afterwards Mrs Ford had ready for them a simple meal of cold ham and other meats with salad and crusty bread. Neither Louise nor Delphine in their hunger could remember enjoying food more.

When they went upstairs again to their room Delphine thumped herself down on the edge of the bed as she took up her protest once more. ‘This accommodation is so cramped! I still don’t see why we couldn’t have gone straight to Cousin Madeleine instead of coming here.’

Louise shook her head firmly. ‘Not until we’ve established ourselves with our own apartment and full-time work. We’re not going to be a burden to anyone, even though I know she would welcome us gladly for our own and Maman’s sake.’

Delphine sighed at her sister’s attitude, but said no more. She made up her mind to call on their first cousin once removed by herself if circumstances became intolerable. She’d endured enough hardship and privation to last a lifetime and wasn’t going to prolong it unnecessarily if an opportunity was there for the taking.

Louise was eager to get her bearings and, after getting directions from Mrs Ford, she and Delphine went out into the city. Their first call was at a banking house, recommended by Captain Hooper, where she deposited her jewellery in a box for safe keeping. The banker himself was able to advise her as to which jeweller would give her a fair price whenever she should wish to sell a piece. Afterwards they explored a little, walked as far as Trinity Church and sat for a while in a park, watching the New Yorkers go by. On the way back to the lodging house they passed the Tammany Museum, where a notice outside announced its latest attraction, a full-sized replica of the guillotine complete with a decapitated wax victim. Both sisters shuddered and hurried by. In the next street Louise bought two newspapers, a New York edition and another printed in French.

When Delphine was in bed and asleep Louise sat down to read the newspapers by candlelight, trying not to disturb Delphine’s sleep by rustling them when she turned a page. In the American edition there was news of the war in Europe, for after the universal horror at the regicide of Louis XIV at the guillotine, the British and their Allies had taken up arms against France. There was also a section that listed work vacancies and another that advertised the skills of those looking for work.

She encircled three adverts that looked promising. Although she had learned in conversation with Mrs Ford that most émigrés were making use of whatever talents they possessed, she still was amazed when she read the advertisements put in by her fellow aristocrats, in which they offered their individual skills. The men had become dancing masters, riding and fencing and archery instructors, gardeners and teachers of mathematics and various languages. As for the women, they were now seamstresses, embroiderers, makers of beauty preparations, wig-dressers, weavers of fine ribbons and, like some of the men, singing and music teachers.

Louise knew from many of the noble names that in the past they would have been waited on hand and foot by a horde of servants, never having to reach for a fan or even put on their own shoes. She admired them for their efforts in new and difficult circumstances.

Turning to the French newspaper, she caught her breath at the list of those at home in France who had most recently gone to the guillotine under the Reign of Terror, as the latest wave of savage murder was called, instigated by the tyrant Robespierre. It was in just such a list that she had found the name of her own husband and, only a matter of days before, that of an uncle, three cousins of whom she had been extremely fond and several close friends. Through the slowness of travel the list she was reading now was already old news and many more names would have been added to it by now.

She put both newspapers aside and gazed unseeingly down into the moonlit street below. At least her parents, although they had both died far too young and tragically, had been spared such an horrific fate, her mother in giving birth to Delphine and her father five years later through a riding accident. That was when she was fifteen, so her father’s only brother became her and Delphine’s guardian.

Count Henri de Montier was a stern, well-intentioned man, long-established at the court of Versailles, who enjoyed an extravagant lifestyle such as had never appealed to their father. He was a widower with no children of his own, but had made up his mind unyieldingly how to deal with his two new charges. He had arrived at their home, the Château de Montier, in time for the funeral and afterwards talked to Louise on her own.

‘I’m taking you back to Versailles with me. Your father has provided you and your sister with large dowries and neither of you will have any difficulty in making a good marriage when the time comes. You are also an heiress in your own right, Louise. Your father’s hobby of studying those ancient law books from your great-grandfather’s collection, which I remember filled many shelves in this château’s library, enabled him to invoke an old law in his will. It ensures that this property and rich estate will always be yours and never your husband’s unless you should choose to sign it over to him. We shall leave here tomorrow.’