“Monsieur Le Brun doesn’t have time for you today. Come back later.” Monsieur Faucher appeared neat and flawlessly groomed, as usual. He was dressed in an embroidered coat and matching culottes with a silk cravat around his neck. Lisette knew his clothing was much too expensive for a picture dealer’s assistant.
“Good, so he is here,” Lisette said, sweeping past Faucher. She moved as fast as she could with the two paintings under her arm. She hurried toward the back. Lisette was anxious to see if any of her recent portraits of the Duchesse or the Duchesse’s friends had yet sold.
Over the past few weeks, Lisette had dropped off portraits and collected money from Le Brun several times. At each visit, Monsieur Faucher treated her with disdain and each time Lisette ignored him. Monsieur Faucher fancied himself Le Brun’s gatekeeper. He perpetually claimed that Le Brun had no interest in seeing Lisette, but Le Brun was always happy to see her and take her portraits.
Lisette stopped at the curtain and called out, “Le Brun, I don’t care who is back there with you. We need to discuss business.”
In the past several weeks, Lisette had found herself flooded with portrait requests from the Duchesse de Chartres’ friends. These friends had followed the Duchesse’s example and had also permitted Lisette to paint additional copies of their portraits. Lisette had already completed many of these portraits and would very quickly have more for Le Brun to sell…and Le Sèvre was none the wiser. She had been able to hide both her new supplies and the extra portraits. Le Sèvre never asked her exactly how many copies the noblewomen requested.
“Mademoiselle Vigée, you cannot go back there!” Monsieur Faucher ran after her.
Lisette continued to ignore Faucher and remained near the curtain. “I have more portraits for you,” she said loudly.
Within moments, Le Brun emerged from behind the curtain. Bedraggled, with tousled hair and smeared rouge on his cheeks, he smiled at Lisette. “Mademoiselle Vigée. I’m glad you are here. I have something for you.”
Lisette saw that he held a small sack, just like the one Le Brun had first given her, except it was fuller. She reached out to take it from him. Instead of giving it to her, Le Brun immediately pulled his hand away, removing the sack from her reach.
“Not just yet. Let me see those paintings you said you have for me. Portraits, I hope.”
“No, first I need what is owed to me from the sale of my two paintings.” Lisette glanced at the bag of coins.
He handed over the sack.
As she accepted it, Lisette thought, It is heavier than last time!
“840 livres. You can count it if you aren’t sure. I took my thirty percent.”
Lisette let the numbers seep into her head. My paintings sold for 600 livres each! Lisette realized. She suddenly found it difficult to move or speak.
Le Brun smiled. “And they sold quickly.” He looked at the paintings under her arm. “Do you have more portraits for me?”
“What about my allegories? Have they sold?” Lisette asked.
“No,” Le Brun responded curtly.
“Even the newest one?” Lisette asked. She had been disappointed that neither her Death of Caesar nor her Venus, Cupid and Mars canvases had sold. Lisette had continued to create allegories and Le Brun had continued to reluctantly accept them, as long as they were accompanied by portraits.
“They aren’t going to sell,” Le Brun said plainly.
“But the newest one is after Rubens’ painting, The Council of the Gods. It is a faithful copy. I went to the Luxembourg Palace many times to view it, sketch it…understand it.”
“I’ve asked around and contacted all of my usual buyers and even some dabblers. No one is interested in buying an allegorical painting done by a woman, especially not one copied from Rubens’ Marie de’ Medici Cycle…too ambitious.”
“Is it too small?” Lisette thought she had judged the size correctly. It was an easel painting that easily could be displayed, along with tens of other paintings of its size, on a wall of a gentleman’s drawing room or in the gallery of a grand house.
“No, the size is appropriate. There are far too many male nudes, which you have not studied from life. Now, bring me as many portraits as you can. I can sell them.”
Lisette was convinced that he wasn’t working hard enough to sell her allegories. Le Brun only wanted a quick sale from portraits.
“I don’t believe it,” she said.
“Believe what you will, but don’t bring me any more allegories…just portraits. You have a singular talent for them.” He glanced again at the paintings she held.
“Yes, these are two more portraits…the Baronne d'Esthal and the Comtesse de la Vieuville.” Lisette handed him the portraits.
He greedily snatched them and then disappeared behind the curtain. When he reappeared a moment later, he no longer had the portraits, but instead held another, smaller sack of coins. He handed it to Lisette. “A partial advance…on these next two portraits. Come back in a few days, I’m sure they will have sold by then.” He paused. “Mademoiselle,” Le Brun said as he bowed slightly to her.
She was taken aback. In the time she had known him, Le Brun had neither given her an advance nor had he bowed to her so respectfully.
“Monsieur,” Lisette said as she nodded her head in acknowledgment and left.
Chapter Eighteen
May 31, 1773
Lisette pulled her stool over to her window and waited for Le Sèvre to leave the house. Over the past few months, this had become a regular occurrence. Most nights he was gone for at least a few hours. Her mother had said earlier in the day that tonight he was attending a supper. Lisette expected him to be gone until well past midnight.
It was already dark, but the street lamps had been lit, so Lisette could see outside, below her window. There were two lamps that illuminated the street in front of Le Sèvre’s house, but only one burned brightly. The other flickered weakly. The lamp oil was replenished daily, but it rarely lasted past nine in the evening.
There he goes, Lisette thought as she watched him leave the house. Once he had disappeared down the street, Lisette quickly moved away from the window. I can get it out now, she thought.
Lisette scurried to the corner of her room and knelt. She pulled up the small Savonnerie carpet that covered this corner of her bedroom floor. Lisette was careful not to bend the expensive carpet. Her mother would notice if it was damaged. She bent over and searched for the floorboard that she had marked with a small x. With the end of her palette knife, she pried open the marked board and several on either side of it. She had removed the floorboards so many times, they were now loose and easy to remove. Before Lisette reached in to retrieve her latest allegory painting, she noticed the money bag that was also hidden beneath her bedroom floor.
Her sack of coins had grown and shrunk over the past three months. With the majority of her earnings from portrait sales, Lisette had been paid nearly 3,000 livres. Even though she had sold many portraits of the Duchesse de Chartres and the Duchesse’s friends, Lisette was most proud of the sale of her allegory paintings: The Death of Caesar and Venus, Cupid and Mars. Le Brun had finally sold them. At 200 livres each, they hadn’t fetched quite the sums that she had hoped for, but their sales meant more to Lisette than any of her portrait earnings.
Her reputation as an artist was growing, but it wasn’t as a painter of history and allegory. It was as a portraitist. Lisette tried not to be discouraged. She knew that in time she would be accepted as a history painter. For now, she had worked out an efficient system of painting extra portraits for noblewomen and selling them with Le Brun’s help.
Even though Lisette’s portraits were commanding great sums, she was not accumulating any real wealth. Lisette was spending the money as fast as she was earning it. Afraid that she would have to rely on Le Sèvre, Lisette continually replenished her supplies, buying only the finest provisions. She believed that great artists used only the highest quality brushes and pigments. She picked up the
money bag and looked inside. Her sack now held 200 livres.
Lisette set aside the sack of coins and carefully pulled out a canvas. After replacing the floorboards, she placed the canvas on the easel. While she hadn’t been able to complete the large versions of her allegory paintings, she had painted many cabinet-sized allegories like the one before her now. Lisette had realized that there was no possible way to hide a floor-to-ceiling painting in her bedroom. When she thought about her earlier, grandiose visions, she felt foolish.
Lisette lit several candles. It was more difficult to paint at night, but she had no other choice. She couldn’t risk working on this painting or any other allegory during the day. Lisette regarded her figure of Helen of Troy. She had decided not to copy a great masterpiece, but instead to create her own version of the Greek myth. She had titled her painting, The Abduction of Helen of Troy.
Over the past few months she had nearly finished it. Under normal circumstances, this painting would have been completed in a matter of weeks, not months. In order to make sure Le Sèvre didn’t find it, Lisette had worked on small portions at a time and only at night. Le Sèvre never entered her room in the evenings, so she had decided that it was safe to allow those small portions to dry while she slept. Then in the early morning, she returned the canvases to their hiding place beneath the floor.
As Lisette searched through her brushes, she thought she heard Le Sèvre’s voice in the front vestibule. Impossible, she decided. I saw him leave. Lisette looked out of the window. There was no sign of Le Sèvre or his carriage. Only the gleaming street lamps lining the gardens of the Palais-Royal were visible. Their flickering reminded Lisette of twinkling stars. I ought to paint this scene at night, she thought. Lisette searched among her brushes for just the right one. She needed the brush with the fine tip, for the details of Helen’s face. As soon as she found it, the door opened. Lisette dropped the brush. Le Sèvre stood in the doorway. Lisette froze.
“I knew it! When I saw the candles shining in your window, I knew you were painting. And right now we are in between portraits. I knew you were disobeying me.” He walked over to where she stored her brushes and other supplies. “How is it that you have so many pigments? I remember only giving you a few.” He pointed to a much smaller box containing half a dozen vials of pigment powder.
Lisette remained silent. She didn’t want to jeopardize her relationships with Le Brun or the Duchesse.
“Don’t want to talk?” he asked as if taunting her. Le Sèvre seemed like he already knew the answer. He had a wry smile on his face as he picked up her newest supplies leaving only the few vials of pigment he had provided.
Lisette felt her stomach churn as she watched him gather her provisions. She had spent almost all of her earnings on these brushes and pigments.
Lisette glanced over to the door which Le Sèvre had left open. She started moving toward it, but Le Sèvre intercepted, blocking her path.
Not being able to move, Lisette said in a loud voice, “You will want Henri’s help collecting everything.” Lisette hoped Henri had heard her. She and Henri had worked out an arrangement that whenever Le Sèvre was home, Henri would remain close by. In exchange, Lisette brought Henri extra food whenever she could filch it from the dining room after their meals. Le Sèvre had never been violent with her when there was someone else in the room.
“That is a good idea. Henri can help,” he said. Then he scowled at Lisette. “I know about your relationship with Le Brun. That has ended. I saw Le Brun this afternoon and he has agreed to comply with my wishes. I will be the only one who communicates with Le Brun. I will be the one who collects all of your money from sales. All of your portrait commissions will go through me and only me. Do you understand?”
Lisette was dumbfounded. She wanted to scream no at him and then run out of the room, but her body prevented her from moving.
“If you don’t comply, I will be forced to resort to drastic measures, Lisette. Actions that I’m sure will break your mother’s heart, but in the end she will agree with my decisions. She has been a good wife, gladly accepting the choices I make for this family.”
Lisette knew he was speaking the truth. She had seen how easily Le Sèvre was willing to hurt her mother. He wouldn’t think twice about breaking her heart. Lisette glanced at the door. Where is Henri? she wondered.
“Well?” Le Sèvre was waiting for an answer.
Lisette thought of her mother and nodded. “I understand, Monsieur.”
“Very good…just one more thing. No more historicals or allegories. I thought I had made that clear.” Le Sèvre marched over to her easel and grabbed the canvas. He put it under his arm. Lisette hadn’t expected him to take her canvas too.
“No! You will destroy all that I’ve done for months.” Lisette took a step forward. She wanted to wrestle it out of Le Sèvre’s hands, but she stopped herself. She knew what he could do to her. Instead, she called out for Henri again. This time Henri came rushing into the room.
Henri looked at Lisette before he turned to Le Sèvre. “How can I be of service?”
“Henri, I need you to take this painting and have Mademoiselle Tothier place it into the wood fires in the kitchen,” Le Sèvre ordered him as he held out Lisette’s canvas.
Henri took the painting into his arms but didn’t budge. He stared at Lisette as if he was unsure what to do next.
“Go on, boy, do as I told you,” Le Sèvre said in a stern voice. “You don’t want to disobey me. I do not tolerate insubordinate servants. You will get the switch.”
Lisette didn’t want Henri beaten. If Le Sèvre could so easily hurt his wife and step-daughter, Lisette could only imagine the horrible punishments he would inflict on a disobedient servant. Lisette nodded to Henri and he left the room.
Le Sèvre drew close to Lisette. “Do not go to see Le Brun…he cannot help you.” He narrowed his eyes and lowered his voice adding, “You have only me now.” Le Sèvre sauntered toward the door, taking his time leaving Lisette’s room.
Le Sèvre snapped orders at Henri all the way down the front stairs. His voice faded as they descended into the lower level of the house, toward the kitchen. Lisette waited five minutes before retrieving a few sous from her money bag hidden beneath the floor. She had to see Le Brun, even if Le Sèvre had forbade it.
Lisette left her room, carefully shutting the door behind her. As she went down the stairs she heard Le Sèvre in the drawing room talking to her mother. Once in the front vestibule, she hurried toward the back stairs. She would exit the house through the servants’ entrance on the lowest level, near the kitchen. It was her best chance of avoiding detection.
Lisette didn’t like to go out after dark. It was dangerous for anyone on the streets of Paris in the evenings, but especially for a young woman by herself. At night, Paris transformed into a perilous place. Thieves, scoundrels and worse lurked in dark alleys and in the shadows. Respectable people only moved on its streets protected by a carriage. Fiacres were more expensive to hire than the smaller cabriolets, but they were also more substantial and safer. She had brought enough money to hail a fiacre.
As she reached the bottom of the servants’ staircase, Henri stopped her.
“Henri, I can’t talk now. Please don’t tell Monsieur Le Sèvre that I have left.”
“Mademoiselle, come with me to the kitchen. Mademoiselle Tothier has something for you,” he said and motioned for Lisette to follow him through the narrow passageway. Lisette walked closely behind him.
Once they were in the kitchen, Mademoiselle Tothier immediately came up to Lisette. She grinned widely while she held up Lisette’s canvas.
“You saved it!” Lisette wanted to hug the kitchen maid.
“Yes, Mademoiselle. I never put it in the fire. I knew that wasn’t the right thing to do…even if Monsieur Le Sèvre ordered it.” Lisette noticed that the maid had several front teeth missing and many others that were decayed.
“But you could get into serious trouble.” Lisette didn�
�t want the servants punished for helping her.
She smirked and once again exposed a mouth of half-rotted teeth as she said, “I put an old woolen sack and some thin strips of wood into the fire and burned it instead of your painting. The ashes look similar enough.”
Lisette eschewed etiquette and squeezed the young maid. “I am in your debt. Thank you.”
Awkwardly, Mademoiselle Tothier broke away from the embrace, curtsied to Lisette and resumed her kitchen duties.
Clutching her canvas, Lisette swiftly returned to her room. Henri followed on her heels.
“Henri, can you stand outside the door and watch for Monsieur Le Sèvre?” Lisette asked him in a muted tone.
“Yes, Mademoiselle,” Henri said.
Lisette knew that she had a friend in Henri. Lisette had never mistreated Henri or any of the other servants. She was the only one in the house who was fair and respectful to them. When Le Sèvre wasn’t actually abusing the servants, he was threatening them with punishment. Over the past few months, even her mother had become verbally abusive, especially to Henri and Camille.
Lisette rushed into her room and quickly hid the canvas underneath her floor, carefully replacing the floorboards and the carpet. At least Le Sèvre hasn’t found my hiding place, she thought. After tonight, Lisette would have to be more careful when she brought out her allegory paintings. She didn’t want to discover what Le Sèvre’s idea of “drastic measures” were. Lisette would forever regret breaking her mother’s heart.
After Lisette had smoothed out the Savonnerie carpet, she left her room and gingerly pulled the door closed. She nodded to Henri to let him know he was no longer needed. He gave a slight bow to her and departed down the hall.
Lisette followed him. When she had reached the bottom of the front stairs, she heard Le Sèvre arguing with someone in the drawing room…a woman. She didn’t recognize the woman’s voice. It wasn’t her mother’s or one of the female servants. Lisette stopped to listen.
Becoming Lisette: A Novel (The Queen's Painter an Historical Romance Book 1) Page 13