Chapter Nine
October 29, 1772
A few days after her disappointing meeting with Le Brun, Lisette sat in her room thinking about his refusal to accept her terms. How can I get him to agree to less than forty percent? she thought. Should I simply concede so that I can sell my paintings? Lisette went back and forth in her mind. No, I will wait until he accepts a lower commission, she decided. But then she would consider how much she needed the money. With more money, there would be no need for her mother to remarry. Lisette stood up and paced.
She was lost in thought when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. “Lisette! Are you in there?” Jeanne asked. The knocking grew louder and more forceful.
Lisette opened the door for her mother.
“Are you ill?”
“No, Mother.”
“Good. I have some wonderful news. Please come out for dinner. We have a guest,” Jeanne said and walked out of Lisette’s room.
A guest for dinner? But what would we serve them? Stale bread and apples? she wondered. Lisette thought back to when her papa was alive and he would host his dinners. She never thought those days would be numbered. Lisette missed her papa terribly.
Her mother came back to her room. “Lisette, I mean now. You need to greet our guest.” As Lisette watched her mother walk away again, she had the urge to close her door and lock it. She didn’t feel like talking to a dinner guest, she wanted to stay in her room and find a solution to her dilemma with Le Brun. She hated that he had put her in such a difficult position.
As Lisette stood in the doorway and considered remaining in her room, her mother’s laughter filled the hall. She hadn’t heard her mother carry on so jubilantly since before her papa had died. Then she heard a man’s voice. It was booming and carried throughout the apartment. He said, “I am beside myself with joy, my darling.”
Lisette hoped that she had heard the man wrong. Who would be calling Mother darling? she wondered. Lisette dreaded the answer, but she had to see what was happening in the other room.
She wandered down the hall and into the drawing room. Lisette stopped short when she saw Le Sèvre sitting comfortably in her papa’s arm chair. Then she looked closer. Is he wearing Papa’s jacket? she wondered.
Not only was he sitting in her papa’s chair, but Le Sèvre was also wearing her papa’s finest piece of clothing, a dark green, satin coat with embroidered trim. Lisette suddenly felt dizzy with anger.
“Lisette, come, sit down.” Le Sèvre motioned for her to sit in the armchair opposite him. When she hesitated, he repeated himself. “Please, sit. Your mother and I have some important news to share.”
Jeanne came in from the other room and stood close to the chair. Le Sèvre reached up and put his hand on her back.
What is Mother doing? This isn’t appropriate behavior for an unmarried woman, she thought. Lisette stared at them in disbelief.
“Your mother and I are now married.” Le Sèvre puckered his lips and kissed her mother.
Jeanne looked at Lisette. She said nothing but her eyes begged for Lisette’s approval.
Lisette would not give it. She could never accept another man taking her papa’s place beside her mother.
“But I thought the wedding wasn’t until next month,” Lisette said. She was stupefied.
“We decided that we couldn’t wait,” Le Sèvre said as he beheld Jeanne.
She flashed a smile at her new husband and said to Lisette, “Le Sèvre was anxious to have a family again. You know he lost his daughters and wife to the smallpox.” Jeanne then turned to Le Sèvre. “We have both suffered so much loss.”
Lisette watched Le Sèvre. She could see a hint of despair in his steel gray eyes, but he quickly dismissed it and stood.
“Enough talk of sad times. It is time to eat.” Le Sèvre held out his hand and her mother took it.
“Yes, I am famished. Let’s sit!” Jeanne said happily as they sauntered arm in arm into the dining room.
That is all the explanation I get? Lisette thought. They were both acting as if they had only decided to attend a performance at the Opéra on the spur of the moment. Lisette watched Le Sèvre enter the dining room and sit at her papa’s place at the table. The storm raging inside her gave way to nausea and the queasiness caused her to sway. Lisette felt unsteady on her feet.
“If you’ll excuse me, I don’t feel well. I need to go to my room and rest.” Lisette didn’t wait for an answer. She turned and started toward her room.
“Lisette! No, you need to come sit with us,” Jeanne said urgently.
“Jeanne, I’ll take care of this. This is my job now. You go sit, my lovely wife,” Le Sèvre said to Jeanne. His voice was low and soft.
Lisette turned around to face them, but remained in the doorway leading out of the dining room. She saw her mother do exactly as he asked without any hesitation.
Le Sèvre approached Lisette and gently laid his hand on her back. “I know this is difficult for you. We have just given you very big news, but it would mean so much to your mother and to me if you would join us for dinner. I want to begin our new life together with a pleasant meal. Look at your mother’s face. Don’t you want to make her happy?”
Lisette studied her mother. Jeanne was about to cry. Lisette didn’t want to upset her mother, but she also didn’t want to be near a usurper like Le Sèvre. She felt an obligation to honor her papa’s memory.
“I have brought in some of your favorite dishes, Lisette. Your mother has told me about your preferences. Doesn’t that partridge smell savory?” Le Sèvre asked her.
Lisette regarded the table laden with food. Her mother had prepared an elaborate meal, just like her papa’s dinner parties. There were at least eight covered dishes, not counting the soup tureen and the pots à ouille loaded with stew. Jeanne had covered the table with their finest linen damask tablecloth and set three places, complete with wine goblets and cutlery for all four services. Lisette hadn’t seen any of these serving pieces on the table since before her papa had passed.
“Lisette, meals like this one will be ours to enjoy every day. Monsieur Le Sèvre will be providing a better life for us. You’ll see. My dear, please join us,” Jeanne said pleadingly.
Not wanting to disappoint her mother, Lisette walked slowly back into the dining room and sat down. She watched Le Sèvre take her papa’s place, next to her mother. He extended his hand to Jeanne and squeezed it. Lisette looked away, toward her brother's seat. She noticed it was empty.
“Mother, where is Etienne?” she asked.
Before Jeanne could reply Le Sèvre said, “I have sent him back to school. That is where he belongs.”
Jeanne nodded approvingly.
“Enough talk. It is time to partake of this marvelous food,” Le Sèvre said, waving his arm toward the food.
Lisette looked at the many prepared dishes carefully displayed on the table. She hadn’t seen meat or fowl and heavy cream sauces at their table since before her papa died. The sight and smells of the rich food should have made her mouth water. Instead, she had no appetite.
As Le Sèvre handed her the platter of her favorite dish, the one that her papa used to buy especially for her, she shook her head declining it. Lisette was sure that the roast partridge would never appeal to her again.
Chapter Ten
January 30, 1773
Lisette wondered who Le Sèvre would have her paint today. I will keep working on my new painting of Venus until the noblewoman arrives, whoever she is, Lisette thought. She was recreating the Venus painting that had been started many months ago in her papa’s studio. Lisette was determined to replace the painting that had been lost in the fire. She worked on it whenever she wasn’t painting portraits for Le Sèvre.
After seeing Lisette’s portrait of Louis, the one that had caught Le Brun’s attention, Le Sèvre had declared that she would paint portraits for him and thereby help him grow his jewelry business. Le Sèvre bought Lisette the highest quality painting supplies, but hadn’
t given her a dedicated studio in his home. He had said that her bedroom would suffice.
Despite her desire to finish her Venus canvas, Lisette found it difficult to concentrate on her painting. Instead, she stared out of her bedroom window. It was nearly mid-day and the street below was at its busiest. Noble ladies and gentlemen were on their way to the cafés, gardens and other amusements at the Palais-Royal, while customers and clients of the luxury merchants of the Rue Saint-Honoré were scurrying to the shops.
Le Sèvre had left their house hours ago, to ready his own shop on the Rue Saint-Honoré for today’s clients. Le Sèvre’s jewelry shop was located a few buildings down from their house and was only one of many exclusive stores on the illustrious street. Besides jewelers, the Rue Saint-Honoré was home to drapers, furriers, goldsmiths, ribbon manufacturers and wine merchants.
The Rue Saint-Honoré also boasted the entrance to the Palais-Royal. Le Sèvre had transported Lisette’s family to one of the most fashionable districts in Paris, where Parisians were willing to pay a premium to be close to the royal Orléans family who resided in the Palais-Royal. Lisette’s mother loved discussing the Orléans dynasty. She was only too happy to explain their lineage to Etienne, who could never remember how many cousins the Duc d'Orléans was removed from the throne. Jeanne had often reminded him that the current Dauphin and his two brothers would have to die before the Duc d'Orléans and his heirs could reign.
Lisette smiled as she thought about Etienne. Lisette wondered how he was getting along at school. He wrote letters home to both Lisette and her mother, but they were sporadic at best. Etienne’s latest reports were that he was settled and content at the Collège des Quatre-Nations. Lisette was a little jealous of his contentment. He seemed to have finished grieving for their papa quicker than she had. Since their papa had died, Lisette had wanted to visit her brother at school, but her mother had made excuses. Now, as the new wife of a wealthy jeweler, Jeanne was far too busy. Lisette missed her brother, but she was accustomed to him living away from her.
Still looking out of her bedroom window, Lisette thought, I’ll watch for the carriage. Today, Lisette allowed herself to be distracted by the goings-on outside her window. If Le Sèvre had allowed her to have her pick of bedrooms within his house, she would have selected a different one, but she was pleased with the view this room offered.
Le Sèvre’s house looked out onto the terrace of the Palais-Royal. Each day, Lisette observed fashionable ladies headed toward the gardens of the Palais-Royal to promenade. Her mother also enjoyed watching the noble ladies. Le Sèvre had given Jeanne a small Galilean telescope as a gift when they had first moved to his home. For the first few weeks they lived on the Rue Saint-Honoré, the monocular device seemed permanently affixed to her mother’s eye as she peered into the lives of the privileged.
Now that they had been in Le Sèvre’s house for three months, Lisette saw the telescope less frequently. Her mother’s new preoccupation was running the household and managing the servants. Jeanne regularly told Lisette that they were very fortunate to be living in such a splendid home complete with fine furnishings, the best food, views of the Palais-Royal and servants.
While her mother had immediately settled into their new life, Lisette remained uncomfortable. She hadn’t wanted her mother to remarry at all. No one could replace her papa, but after witnessing her mother’s recent joy, Lisette was determined to give Le Sèvre the opportunity to continue to make her mother happy.
That must be her, Lisette thought as she watched a noblewoman exit a carriage in front of the house. I should prepare, she thought. Lisette put away her painting of Venus and brought out a new canvas that she had stretched and prepared the day before. She placed the blank canvas on her easel and took inventory of her supplies. Le Sèvre had bought her the most expensive pigments and brushes. As she looked at the kingwood commode in the corner of her bedroom that held all of her new art supplies, she thought about her papa. Louis could never have afforded the chest of drawers or the supplies. Lisette struggled with the guilt.
“Mademoiselle Lisette? Are you there?”
Lisette heard the faintest tapping at her door and an even fainter voice accompanying it. She recognized the voice as belonging to Henri, a young servant boy in Le Sèvre’s household. Henri had been serving in Le Sèvre’s house since before he could walk. His mother had been Le Sèvre’s chambermaid and had died shortly after giving birth to Henri. Knowing she was about to die and that she was unwed, she had begged Le Sèvre to house and employ her son. Better a servant than an orphaned street urchin, Henri had said to Lisette quoting Le Sèvre’s former wife. According to the older servants, who had told Henri of his early years, it had been Le Sèvre’s first wife that had convinced Le Sèvre to allow Henri to stay.
Henri was the same age as Etienne, but already looked much older. Lisette had been drawn to his tired, sad eyes and immediately befriended him. Henri was a constant presence in Le Sèvre’s house. He was the first one to wake in the morning and the last one to retire at night.
Lisette went to the door and opened it a crack. Henri pushed the door open just enough so that he could be heard. As he held the door, Lisette noticed his hand was covered in callouses.
“Mademoiselle Lisette, they are downstairs. They’ll be up shortly.”
“Thank you, Henri,” Lisette said.
Henri quickly returned downstairs.
Lisette regarded the blank canvas sitting on her easel. Soon it would be filled with another pretty face. Le Sèvre was bringing her a new sitter today, another noblewoman. This will be the third, she thought.
Le Sèvre had been trying to accommodate his best clients from his jewelry shop. If he could at the same time provide a worthy portraitist to paint their beauty and sell them jewels to enhance that beauty, then all the better, or so Le Sèvre claimed. He had made it clear that Lisette was free to paint anything else she wanted, as long as it didn’t interfere with the portraits for his clients. Le Sèvre had been initially skeptical of Lisette’s wish to paint allegories, but he had said that he would allow it as long as she remembered her priorities and never neglected his clients. Lisette had agreed, considering the bargain fair.
Within moments, Le Sèvre was outside her door. She could hear him speaking loudly. Without giving any advance notice, Le Sèvre opened the door and came into her room. Standing next to him was the Duchesse de Chartres.
Lisette took a step back. The Duchesse de Chartres? Why would she be here? Lisette wondered. Does Mother know? Jeanne would be beside herself. One of the wealthiest and most important women in all of France, the wife of the Duc de Chartres of the royal Orléans family, was in their house. Chatting with the Duchesse in the Tuileries was a noteworthy event, but hosting the Duchesse in one’s home was an extraordinary occasion. Lisette inspected the Duchesse. She was dressed in a mint green robe à polonaise, with trimmings of embroidered silk. Her hair was arranged à la marmotte. It was piled high on her head, bound with a ribbon and covered with a linen headdress. The Duchesse appeared just as fashionable as she had the last time Lisette had seen her. She wondered if the Duchesse would deign herself to speak to Lisette this time.
Le Sèvre stepped to the commode in the corner of the room. Lisette stored not only her supplies in the chest of drawers, but also the small portrait of her papa. Le Sèvre found it in the top drawer.
“You wanted to see for yourself, Duchesse,” Le Sèvre said as he took hold of Lisette’s easel and dragged it to where the Duchesse stood. He removed the blank canvas from the easel and replaced it with the portrait. Le Sèvre had not yet acknowledged Lisette. He was focused solely on his business with the Duchesse.
The Duchesse carefully examined the portrait and then looked over to Lisette. “My, my, the rumors are true. There is a pretty young girl living on the Rue Saint-Honoré who paints like a man.” The Duchesse studied the portrait further. She had a puzzled look on her face. “This is a most unusual circumstance. She is so young to be able to p
aint so well.”
“Then we are agreed. Shall we retire to the drawing room to discuss the terms for the completion of your portrait?”
The Duchesse toggled back and forth between Lisette and the portrait. She hesitated, but then said, “I am not sure what my husband would say.”
Lisette watched the Duchesse’s eyes narrow.
“She could paint you wearing some of my newest precious gems…I’ve recently received a shipment from Persia that you must see. They are most rare. You would be the only woman at court wearing them and the first one to have your portrait painted with them.”
Lisette noticed that Le Sèvre was making inroads with the Duchesse. Her face softened and her eyes widened. Saying nothing to Lisette, the Duchesse brushed past Le Sèvre and headed out of the room. “I will have my first sitting a week from this Tuesday at one in the afternoon.” She continued walking without looking back at either of them. The mere mention of being the first woman at court to do anything was more than enough for the Duchesse to agree.
“Wait, Duchesse. May I show you the gems?” Le Sèvre called out, trying to catch up to her.
Lisette watched both of them quickly disappear from sight. She is an unpleasant woman, Lisette thought. Tuesday afternoon could not come and then go quickly enough for Lisette. The sooner she was finished with the Duchesse, the better. At least she wouldn’t have to paint her portrait this afternoon. She could work on her allegory of Venus.
Lisette stared at the empty hallway and then back at her easel where Le Sèvre had placed the portrait of her papa. She looked at her papa’s radiant face. It worked again, she thought. Each time Le Sèvre brought a new client to determine Lisette’s worthiness, he showed that portrait. To Lisette, it seemed like a violation of her papa’s memory. Instead of making her feel better, for the first time since he had died, looking at the portrait of her papa made her feel worse.
Chapter Eleven
Becoming Lisette: A Novel (The Queen's Painter an Historical Romance Book 1) Page 9