The Seamstress Read online

  Praise for novels by Allison Pittman

  The Seamstress

  “Allison Pittman has taken a minor but memorable Dickens character and created a whole world for her, thoroughly researched and beautifully detailed. The seamstress’s rags-to-riches-to-rags story is an endlessly fascinating and touching one. You’ll find yourself caring deeply not just about her, but also about everyone she cares for.”

  GINA DALFONZO, founder and editor of Dickensblog

  “I finished reading The Seamstress three days ago and can’t stop thinking about it. Well-drawn characters inspired by Dickens’s A Tale of Two Cities, and exquisite writing in the spirit of Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, combine in Pittman’s latest novel of life and faith amid the upheaval of the French Revolution. Researched in great detail, a brilliant and ingenious work, not to be missed.”

  CATHY GOHLKE, Christy Award–winning author of Until We Find Home and Secrets She Kept

  “Destined to be a classic in its own right, The Seamstress is everything I love about historical fiction. The robust characters not only interact with real and pivotal events, but they embody the attitudes of the day in ways that are accessible for the modern reader. Pittman’s power of language drew me deep into revolutionary France, and her accurate and sensitive portrayal of the turmoil earned my undying respect. The Seamstress is an intricate tapestry hemmed in truth and grace. A masterpiece.”

  JOCELYN GREEN, Christy Award–winning author of A Refuge Assured

  “Set amid the tumultuous French Revolution, The Seamstress is unabashedly profound and yet crafted with such care that I relished every heartrending word until the very last one. Through the lives of vibrant and genuine characters, notes of love, faith, and loyalty rise from its pages—all striking with one unanimous chord of courage. Allison Pittman has woven a novel that fortifies the spirit brick by brick so that as a nation is broken and transformed, so takes new shape yet another landscape: the reader’s heart. The Seamstress is an absolute masterpiece with all the makings of a classic, and is one of the finest novels I have ever read.”

  JOANNE BISCHOF, Christy and Carol Award–winning author of Sons of Blackbird Mountain

  “In The Seamstress, Allison Pittman has given us a novel of revolutionary France sweeping in its scope, a story of hope and despair, strength and frailty, courage and cowardice seamlessly stitched. With its pages filled with characters who will haunt the heart long after the last is turned, it is a story hemmed in triumph—of the human spirit in the midst of national chaos, but even more of Christ’s infinite love, transcending ideology, reaching alike into palaces and poverty. I finished this novel with a holy hush in my soul.”

  LORI BENTON, author of Burning Sky and Many Sparrows

  “In the midst of revolution and royalty, Pittman weaves a captivating tale of two cousins whose humble beginnings birth remarkable journeys. A beautiful, rich tale of love, loss, and amazing faith, The Seamstress is a book that haunts, satisfies, and inspires all at once. I loved this book!”

  HEIDI CHIAVAROLI, author of Freedom’s Ring and The Hidden Side

  “The Seamstress is a study in nostalgia: carefully evoking a classic while establishing itself as a classic in its own right. Deftly and intelligently nodding to its magnanimous source material, A Tale of Two Cities, it remains confident as its own entity. Appealing equally to Dickensian readers and the uninitiated, The Seamstress is a lush, moving, and brilliantly sewn world. The thinking reader’s inspirational read, it is at once rich, beguiling, and accessibly readable. Its aftertaste will spoil you for any other story for a long, long while.”

  RACHEL MCMILLAN, author of the Van Buren and DeLuca series

  Loving Luther

  “Accessible writing infused with romantic tension creates a provocative and heartwarming read.”

  LIBRARY JOURNAL

  “Loving Luther is a sophisticated, provocative novel . . . with depth, and it is unexpectedly touching.”

  FOREWORD MAGAZINE

  “Pittman pens an exquisite tale based on the limited historical sources about Katharina von Bora, capturing the emotions of a nun grappling with the idea of bondage to the church versus a new and unfamiliar freedom in faith.”

  BOOKLIST

  “Although Pittman’s previous novels have been set in the United States, she feels quite at home in 16th-century Wittenberg. This novel should be of interest not only to readers of Christian fiction, but to readers of general historical fiction as well.”

  HISTORICAL NOVEL SOCIETY REVIEWS

  “Loving Luther showcases author Allison Pittman’s genuine flair for compelling and memorable storytelling.”

  MIDWEST BOOK REVIEW

  On Shifting Sand

  “Pittman manages to . . . satisfy readers’ thirst for drama, deceit, and deliverance.”

  BOOKLIST

  “Demonstrating her versatility as a novelist, Pittman has written a moving tale of temptation, surrender, guilt, and redemption.”

  LIBRARY JOURNAL

  “Pittman effectively contrasts the repercussions of forgiveness when it is withheld and granted.”

  PUBLISHERS WEEKLY

  “Pittman makes a departure from her usual genre with an elegantly written novel. . . . The tale is so well told it will stay with you.”

  ROMANTIC TIMES

  The Roaring Twenties Series

  “Deftly intertwining the 1920s plotline with diary entries, Pittman’s third series outing is filled with family drama, suspense, and enough twists and turns to keep readers engrossed until the very end. This tale of truth and forgiveness will attract fans of Francine Rivers, Rosamunde Pilcher, and those who enjoy family sagas.”

  LIBRARY JOURNAL on All for a Sister

  “Pittman handily captures the societal extremes during the Jazz Age, and her focus on the roles of women, from demure traditionalists to the influential McPherson and the ‘modern’ woman, adds a nuanced level of conflict to this entertaining novel.”

  BOOKLIST on All for a Story

  “Pittman skillfully paints the complete picture of this bold female character. Readers of inspirational fiction will be stirred as this story of longing unfolds, revealing testimony to true contentment.”

  BOOKLIST on All for a Song

  “Mesmerizing. . . . Allison Pittman’s latest novel is a delight to read, having been woven together with beautiful narrative, stirring faith, and characters you will connect with. . . . All for a Song is a book that will not only entertain you, but will leave you thinking about why we make the choices we do, and even how we use the gifts God has given us. I award this book my highest recommendation, and a rating of 5 out of 5 stars.”

  CHRISTIAN FICTION ADDICT on All for a Song

  “All for a Song proves Allison Pittman is not only one of the most talented and literary writers in the CBA but also an author with a tremendous writing range. Never afraid to confront subjects that have a bit of edge, Pittman sets the coming-of-age story of innocent Dorothy Lynn against the Evangelical fervor strummed up by charismatic speaker Aimee Semple McPherson. The result is an engaging and unique experience that reads like a breath of fresh air in a market filled with many similar historically influenced tales.”

  NOVEL CROSSING on All for a Song

  The Sister Wife Series

  “Once again Pittman tells an engaging story in which the characters are moved to examine their faith and make difficult decisions. Readers who enjoy CF dealing with family relationships and crises of faith will appreciate it.”

  LIBRARY JOURNAL on For Time and Eternity

  “In the second book of the Sister Wife series (Forsaking All Others), the characters are unforgettable. Pittman pulls the reader into her stories and gives them a glimpse of the values the Mormons bel
ieve in.”

  ROMANTIC TIMES, 4½ stars

  Visit Tyndale online at www.tyndale.com.

  Visit Allison Pittman at www.allisonkpittman.com.

  TYNDALE and Tyndale’s quill logo are registered trademarks of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

  The Seamstress

  Copyright © 2019 by Allison Pittman. All rights reserved.

  Cover illustration of woman and flourishes by Jonathan Phelps. Copyright © Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved.

  Cover photograph of linen texture copyright © Katsumi Murouchi/Getty Images. All rights reserved.

  Designed by Jennifer Phelps

  Edited by Kathryn S. Olson

  Published in association with William K. Jensen Literary Agency, 119 Bampton Court, Eugene, Oregon 97404.

  Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, King James Version.

  Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version,® NIV.® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

  The Seamstress is a work of fiction. Where real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales appear, they are used fictitiously. All other elements of the novel are drawn from the author’s imagination.

  For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Tyndale House Publishers at [email protected], or call 1-800-323-9400.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Pittman, Allison, author.

  Title: The seamstress / Allison Pittman.

  Description: Carol Stream, Illinois : Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., [2019]

  Identifiers: LCCN 2018027835 | ISBN 9781414390468 (sc)

  Subjects: | GSAFD: Christian fiction.

  Classification: LCC PS3616.I885 S43 2019 | DDC 813/.6—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018027835

  ISBN 978-1-4964-4018-1 (HC)

  ISBN 978-1-4964-3561-3 (ePub); ISBN 978-1-4143-9049-9 (Kindle); ISBN 978-1-4964-3562-0 (Apple)

  Build: 2018-12-19 17:20:16 EPUB 3.0

  I have a heart full of grateful memories for all those students who climbed into the tumbrils and rolled along with me through all the reading, the analysis, the journaling, the experiencing of the beloved novel, A Tale of Two Cities—with special thanks to:

  SS—who pulled a cardboard ship through the aisles of my classroom to capture the ominous journey toward the Loadstone Rock . . .

  GG—who donned a puffy shirt and transported a classroom of high school sophomores to a place of harrowing, dark confession . . .

  AC—who met my eyes one afternoon when he discerned Carton’s plan and the world became a place where we two shared a secret . . .

  And now I share with you a few secrets of my own invention.

  A Prayer

  God of heaven, see me now

  ’Neath stars and moon and darkest cloud.

  Grant me dreams to sleep in peace,

  And with the sunrise in the East,

  Wake me to a glorious day.

  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—I pray,

  Amen.

  Une Prière

  Dieu des cieux voyez-moi maintenant,

  Sous les étoiles et la lune et les nuages gris,

  Accordez-moi le sommeil de rêves tranquilles.

  Et au lever du soleil à l’est,

  Réveillez-moi pour voir un jour glorieux.

  Au nom de Dieu le Père, le Fils, et le Saint-Esprit—je prie,

  Amen.

  Contents

  Part I L’épisode 1

  L’épisode 2

  L’épisode 3

  L’épisode 4

  L’épisode 5

  L’épisode 6

  L’épisode 7

  Part II L’épisode 8

  L’épisode 9

  L’épisode 10

  L’épisode 11

  L’épisode 12

  L’épisode 13

  Part III L’épisode 14

  L’épisode 15

  L’épisode 16

  L’épisode 17

  L’épisode 18

  Part IV L’épisode 19

  L’épisode 20

  L’épisode 21

  L’épisode 22

  L’épisode 23

  L’épisode 24

  L’épisode 25

  Part V L’épisode 26

  L’épisode 27

  L’épisode 28

  Part VI L’épisode 29

  L’épisode 30

  L’épisode 31

  L’épisode 32

  A Note from the Author

  Discussion Questions

  About the Author

  Preview of Loving Luther

  PART I

  Le Printemps (Spring) 1788

  * * *

  Dieu des cieux voyez-moi maintenant . . .

  L’épisode 1

  Renée

  * * *

  MOUTON BLANC, LA VALLÉE

  * * *

  My first and last memories are my cousin Laurette. She wasn’t quite three years old when I came into the world, but her arms were sturdy enough to hold me, and my mother never missed an opportunity to thrust me upon her. Laurette’s was the breath on my cheek as we slept, curled together on the tiny mat in the corner of our tattered house. She spoke the nightmares away, softened my bread with milk, entertained me for hours on end with a knotted string and games of cat’s cradle.

  Our mothers were sisters, sharing a house on the fringe of our village—Mouton Blanc, named for the white sheep that produced fine, prized wool. Our family never owned any sheep of their own. We had no farm, no land. Only two rooms and a fire, but subsisted on the prosperity of the town. Laurette and I grew up smelling their roasting meat, and shared tiny portions cooked in stew. We walked through the bustling market square, past baskets overflowing with harvest, watching our mothers trade small coins for the remnants hidden behind the merchants. The yeasty smell of the baker’s shop meant a fresh, hot loaf of bread, and a crossed bun handed over the counter for the two of us to share, bite by bite.

  My father was unknown to me, and if my mother knew his name, she never uttered it. I was given no fanciful tale about a dashing stranger, or a wandering minstrel, or a farmer’s son overtaken by desire. I asked once if I could call Laurette’s father my own, as we shared the same roof and table, but was delivered a slap to my face that left the mark of my mother’s hand for nearly a week. I never asked again. At the time (I was probably six years old) I assumed my mother reacted so harshly because she wouldn’t want such a man for my father. My uncle was short-tempered and often drunk, quick to violence and raging. But then, as I grew older, I noticed the way he looked at my mother—she was the more beautiful of the two sisters—and having learned a bit about the workings of men and women, I wondered if I hadn’t come close to guessing the truth.

  Though our household was never prosperous, it was, for the most part, quiet. Content. Laurette’s father worked for different farmers, hiring himself out during the shearing season and throughout the year, mending fences and whatever day labor he could get. Always, it was enough to feed us and allow him nights at the tavern to drink up the rest. Our mothers did village work, too, carding great sacks of wool, teaching both of us the art as soon as our hands were big enough to fit the wooden paddles. Laurette never mastered the skill, but I loved any moment my hands were occupied with creating. Mother would barter old clothes from the rag man, and spend winter evenings cutting and mending, turning women’s skirts into boys’ breeches and old nightshirts into christening gowns, edged with lace tatted from spinners’ scraps.

  I was too young to take note of all the changes as they happened. Realization dawned that we had less money. Less food. Less everything. I understood the years of drought and the toll they took on the local harvests, but I had no concept of the role the king played in the slow death of our town. I didn’t kn
ow he took good grazing land and gave it to the Church. I didn’t know he imposed taxes beyond what my neighbors could pay. Therefore, I didn’t understand the hopelessness that would drive Laurette’s father to kill her mother in a drunken rage, nor the hanging that left us equally fatherless. Even more, I could not fathom a grief that would cause my mother to simply walk away one night, leaving us equally orphaned. I was ten, Laurette was twelve, and we lived for nearly two months on the scraps of neighbors’ charity before anyone else even knew she’d gone.

  But Émile Gagnon found us. Rather, we found him. I would guess that his flock still numbered five hundred head at the time, and Laurette hoped we would find work—in his kitchen, in his fields. Winter was coming and we had nothing to fill our bellies or warm our hearth. We’d heard him one day at the inn, Le Cochon Gros, the same place that slaked my uncle’s thirst and nourished his anger. Gagnon was lifting a toast to the fine price he’d fetched for his wool, wishing a blessing on the carders and spinners, the weavers and tailors who take the humble offerings of his sheep and make clothing fit for the king.

  “Think of it, spun fine and stretched over the queen’s legs . . . ,” one of his fellow drinkers said, the rest of his comment spoken low and drowned out by raucous laughter.

  It was Laurette who approached Gagnon. Looking back now, I realize what a young man he was. Everybody in town spoke of him with such glowing reverence, he might have been a founder. But he was only twenty-two—old enough to laugh at an off-color joke, but young enough to be embarrassed by it. He, too, was an orphan, if a grown man could be called such, having inherited his farm when his parents died in quick succession of a fever. Not a year later, he became a widower, losing his young wife and newborn child within an hour of each other. While some men might have turned bitter in the wake of so much loss, Émile Gagnon grew stronger.