Becoming Lisette: A Novel (The Queen's Painter an Historical Romance Book 1)

by Rebecca Glenn

  “I have told you that I am the one who decides where you go − at any time of day,” Le Sèvre said.

  “But I thought you would want us to attend the Marquise’s supper. She has bought your jewelry in the past.”

  “No. I did not agree to it. You will send our regrets. We are going to the Opéra tonight,” Le Sèvre said.

  Then her mother let out a yelp of pain. Lisette knew that he was hurting her.

  “Do you wish to discuss it more?” Le Sèvre asked.

  Her mother did not protest or say anything else. Lisette heard them put on their outer coats and head out of the house.

  Lisette went down the stairs and waited in the front hall until there was complete silence. Now that Le Sèvre and her mother were gone, she didn’t want Henri or any of the other servants to see her leave. Lisette knew Le Sèvre would be gone for hours. After the Opéra, they would probably attend a late evening supper of Le Sèvre’s choosing. He never missed an opportunity to cultivate new customers.

  When she was convinced no one would see her, Lisette opened the front door and left the house. It was nearly dark, but the street lamps had not yet been lit. Lisette glanced up at the early evening sky. It was her favorite shade of indigo blue. She often sat at her window watching the day fade into night. Lisette had tried to capture the fleeting moments of dusk on canvas. It was something she had not yet mastered, but would continue trying until she succeeded. She knew of few painters who could accurately render this magical time of the day.

  Lisette watched the sun quickly descend below the horizon. It would be dark soon and she knew what that meant. In the evenings, danger lurked everywhere in Paris. Lisette didn’t want to repeat the troubles of her previous late-night visit to Le Brun’s. She considered taking a carriage, but the crisp evening air was inviting.

  She moved quickly down the Rue Saint-Honoré, careful to stay out of the shadows. Many of the shopkeepers were still open for business, so there were enough pedestrians to put Lisette at ease. She felt safe for now.

  As Lisette approached Le Brun’s shop, she saw light coming from the front windows. Good. He’s there, she thought. Lisette pulled open the door. It wasn’t yet locked for the evening. She looked around and didn’t see anyone. Monsieur Faucher hadn’t come out from the back as usual.

  “Le Brun?” Lisette called out.

  First she heard a rustling coming from behind the curtain in the back of the shop. Then Lisette heard a loud clanking, like something large had tumbled over and possibly caused damage. Was that a pot that just fell to the floor? she thought.

  “Le Brun?” she called out again.

  Lisette watched the curtain shake and then slowly part in the middle.

  Le Brun emerged.

  Lisette had seen him disarrayed before, but never like this. He looked like he hadn’t changed his clothes in days. As he got closer to her, she saw dried blood all down the front of his shirt. His linen chemise, originally white, was now a shade of light pink. She looked up at his face. His right eye was nearly swollen shut and his lip was badly cut, like it had been split open just hours ago.

  “Lisette.” Le Brun could barely speak. His voice was weak and he had a difficult time maintaining his balance. He swayed back and forth trying to steady himself as he stood before her.

  “What happened to you?” Lisette took his arm to help him stand. “Let’s sit.” She guided him over toward two armchairs in the corner of the shop and helped him sit down. Lisette sat too.

  “After some rest, I will be the picture of health.” Le Brun regarded her with his one good eye. He seemed glad to see her. “It has been many months. To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning?” he asked trying to keep his head upright.

  Lisette glanced over to the front window. The sun had set and it was now completely dark.

  “I can come back. You should get to your bed.” Lisette stood.

  “Nonsense. Sit. How can I help you?” Le Brun waved his arm in the air gesturing toward the chair.

  Lisette sat back down. “I need a studio.” She watched his face as his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t see how that is possible,” Le Brun said. “There are too many obstacles.”

  Lisette stared directly at Le Brun. She repeated herself, “I need a studio.”

  Le Brun quickly replied, “You aren’t hearing me. There are too many obstacles, not the least of which is that you aren’t a member of the Guild or the Académie Royale. How can you get a license to have a studio if you aren’t a member of either?”

  Lisette was unsure why Le Brun would even mention the Académie Royale. They both knew that membership in the Académie was restricted to a select few who had completed the rigorous vetting process. For women artists, it was even more stringent. After her visit to Versailles, Lisette knew that if Monsieur Pierre was successful influencing the King, the few slots open to women might disappear altogether. The Guild was an entirely different story. Because her papa had been a long-standing member of the Guild, Lisette had believed that Guild membership would be easily attained.

  “I’ve considered that. I will apply to the Guild. Because of Papa, it won’t be difficult to gain membership,” Lisette said nonchalantly.

  “This is serious, Lisette. If you are caught operating an artist’s studio without a license, one that the Guild gives only to its members, your studio could be seized, all of its contents taken and you could be jailed.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. That would never happen. Trust me, Guild membership and the license won’t be a problem.” Lisette looked at Le Brun like he was talking nonsense.

  “If I help you, you must take care of it right away,” Le Brun said gravely.

  “I will,” Lisette said.

  “What about money? How will you pay for a studio?” Le Brun’s voice grew louder as he spoke. “Have you forgotten that Le Sèvre controls everything in your life, including your money?”

  Lisette had spent the past day solving this problem in her head. “He doesn’t control everything.”

  “But he does control any money you make from painting. You know we can’t sell paintings done by your hand to pay for a studio. He would find out about it and we would both suffer.” Le Brun remained skeptical.

  Lisette smiled. “Yes, but what if the paintings weren’t executed by my hand?”

  “Go on,” he said.

  She saw Le Brun start to smile, but then wince.

  He put his hand up to his cut lip and let out a low groan. Le Brun said no more. He sat and carefully listened while Lisette explained her plan.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  October 18, 1774

  Lisette looked at her palette. I need to mix more brown for Hermes’ belt, she thought. She had finally returned to her allegory paintings − in her own studio. In the past several weeks, Lisette had made up for lost time.

  As she put the finishing touches on the figure of Hermes, she heard her stomach growl. She ignored it and continued painting. Lisette hadn’t wanted to put down her brush for a moment. She glanced out of the tiny window in the corner of the room. It was almost dark outside. What time is it? she wondered. Lisette’s stomach growled again and this time it didn’t stop. Lisette set down her brush and palette and pulled out her papa’s pocket watch. If she wanted to keep her new studio a secret from Le Sèvre, she would have to leave it for the day. She could return again in the morning.

  As Lisette put her palette away and cleaned her brushes, she surveyed her new supplies. A warm feeling came over her. She hadn’t felt such contentment for many months. Rosalie, Marguerite and Le Brun had all helped her. She had taken great risks involving so many people in her plan, but it had worked. In exchange for several still life paintings, Rosalie had received an elaborate wedding coiffure from Léonard. Marguerite had happily arranged it. Le Brun had sold Rosalie’s paintings and used the money to pay for Lisette’s supplies and her new studio. It had been enough to cover several months’ rent. Be
cause they were operating within the law, Le Brun had agreed to participate. He had no interest in crossing Le Sèvre.

  Le Sèvre never has to know, Lisette thought.

  Lisette was nearly finished cleaning up when she heard someone lightly tapping on the door. Her heart stopped for a moment and she froze. Le Brun’s words of warning echoed in her head, If you are caught operating an artist’s studio without a license, your studio could be seized, all of its contents taken and you could be jailed. She had meant to apply for Guild membership, but had not yet done it. I will go to the Guild first thing tomorrow, she thought. Lisette reassured herself that the likelihood of the police being on the other side of the door was low. No one knew the location of her studio except Le Brun.

  She heard the tapping again. Le Sèvre? she thought. He wouldn’t bother himself to knock. He would simply enter, Lisette realized. She was glad the door was bolted. Lisette moved closer to the door. In a commanding manner, she asked, “Who is it?” Her pulse quickened.

  “Lisette? May I come in?”

  Lisette instantly recognized the woman’s voice. Marguerite, she thought. Relieved, Lisette exhaled. She felt her heart beat return to normal. Lisette opened the door.

  “So this is it.” Marguerite glided into the center of the little room and pivoted as she spoke. “This is why you needed me to make the introduction to Léonard. It is small, but all yours. Well done, Lisette.” She smiled and nodded approvingly.

  Lisette didn’t have to ask her how she had discovered the studio. It was well-known that Marguerite knew everything about everyone. She had made it her business to know everything. Marguerite also had a reputation for discretion.

  Lisette returned the smile and nod. She checked her papa’s watch again. “I’m sorry, but I must be leaving, Marguerite. I’m late.”

  “Yes, yes. I won’t keep you long.” She walked around the studio carefully pausing at each canvas.

  After only a few weeks, Lisette had begun to run out of room in the small space. She had lined up canvases against each wall. On several of the walls, the canvases were already stacked three and four deep. Le Brun had not yet agreed to sell Lisette’s paintings again. He had told her he was loathe to go behind Le Sèvre’s back. It was a problem that Lisette needed to solve. For now, she was content to paint allegories and historicals again…and to be in her own studio, out from under Le Sèvre.

  “You could use some curtains and a chaise-lounge…or at the very least a pair of stools for your guests.” Marguerite pointed to the one empty corner in the studio.

  “Can we talk another time?” Lisette glanced at the watch again.

  Marguerite moved closer. She inspected Lisette, starting with her hair and moving down to her feet. “No wonder you have caused such a stir. Every time I see you, you grow ever lovelier.”

  Lisette stared at her. What is she talking about? she thought.

  Marguerite continued, “Why have you not seen Amante? It has been many, many months − almost a year.”

  Lisette had thought about Amante in the past months, but she had not been ready to see him again. She wasn’t excited to be with a man that gave her orders. Lisette already had Le Sèvre for that.

  “I have been very busy,” she said flatly.

  “You should call on him. He wants to see you,” Marguerite said.

  “If he wants to see me so badly, why not come himself? Why send you?” Lisette asked.

  “He wasn’t sure you would agree to see him,” Marguerite said. “Lisette, he did not mean to upset you. Quite the contrary, he only wanted to protect you.”

  “He had an odd way of showing it,” Lisette said.

  “Please, see him my dear. You won’t regret it.”

  “You are not going to leave until I agree, are you?” Lisette smiled at Marguerite.

  “No, I am not.” Marguerite grinned back at Lisette.

  Resigned, Lisette replied, “I will see him.”

  Marguerite nodded and said, “I would call on him soon. There is a rumor that his garrison will be sent away any day now…away from France.” Marguerite’s face revealed her concern.

  Lisette had rarely seen Marguerite so serious. “I promise. I will see him soon,” Lisette said.

  Marguerite appeared only slightly reassured.

  They moved to the door. Marguerite kissed Lisette on both cheeks and said, “I will be out of the country for a month or so…I’m going with Monsieur Mondeval to his cousin’s estate in Italy.” She waved at Lisette and then left.

  Lisette stood in the doorway. Amante, she thought. She recalled the last time they were together. She immediately saw his full lips. She remembered how they had felt so warm on hers. Her own lips tingled. But she also remembered his harsh tone. Would he speak to her that way again?

  Lisette returned to the present when she heard a man howling at his daughter in the hallway. The man sounded like Le Sèvre.

  I must get home, she thought. Lisette pulled the studio door shut and quickly locked it from the outside. She descended the four flights of stairs and headed out of the building.

  Lisette could think of only one thing as she walked toward Le Sèvre’s house: I have to get home before he does.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  October 25, 1774

  Lisette did not know how to make the men understand. She carefully surveyed the faces of each Guild member sitting on the other side of the long table in front of her. They comprised the leadership council of the Guild of the Académie de Saint-Luc and had the final say in who was made a member. Her papa had served on this council for many years before his death.

  “Mademoiselle Vigée, the council has decided. There is nothing more to discuss,” Monsieur Gervais said.

  Lisette explored her mind for a counterargument to convince them. They had voted to reject her application for membership. She was appealing their decision. Surely, I can change a few minds, she thought. But as she looked at their faces, not a single one appeared sympathetic. Lisette felt like she was back at the Convent of the Trinité defending herself for drawing. Like the Guild councilmen before her now, the nuns had not allowed her to appeal then.

  Lisette repeated herself, “But I have fulfilled the apprentice requirement.”

  The men remained unmoved. Why won’t they let me in? Lisette wondered. She had told Le Brun that membership in the Guild would be easily granted to her. She had reassured him several times that it was a certainty. Lisette now knew that was not the case. Le Brun had argued for a certain order: first, gaining Guild membership, then, attaining a license from the Guild, and finally, renting a studio. She had convinced him otherwise. Lisette was realizing that she may have made a mistake.

  Monsieur Gervais regarded her sternly. “We have already made ourselves clear. According to our rules, you have not met the requirement.”

  Several of the other men grunted and nodded in agreement.

  Lisette stood firm. I have to convince them, she thought. She needed to keep her studio and she didn’t want to risk going to jail for it. She had believed this process would be seamless. Instead, the ten men sitting before her were proving exceedingly difficult.

  “But I was an apprentice to my father, Louis Vigée,” Lisette said.

  “Mademoiselle, we are well aware of who your father was. His dedication and service to the Guild was unwavering. He is greatly missed. That is beside the point. You were never his apprentice.”

  “But I was. He taught me the basic techniques of painting when I was a small girl. I worked in his studio. I even painted some of his backgrounds for him…when he got sick.”

  Lisette watched several of the men’s faces soften as she talked about helping her papa. Then they looked at Monsieur Gervais. He shook his head in disapproval and the men’s expressions hardened again. Lisette knew that no one councilman was in charge, so she wondered why the other men were deferring to Monsieur Gervais.

  Monsieur Gervais spoke with a defiance in his voice, “That may be so, but it doesn
’t change the fact that you were never officially apprenticed to him. You were never registered as an apprentice with the Guild.”

  “I am telling you now. It is after the fact, but it makes my apprenticeship no less valid. Please messieurs, grant me membership in the Guild. You would honor my father’s memory.”

  As Lisette stood before the councilmen begging for membership in the Guild, she found herself thinking about her papa. She wondered, If he were still alive, would they have already granted me membership? She didn’t understand why they weren’t helping her.

  “I’m sorry, Mademoiselle Vigée, but the council has decided. Your membership has not been approved at this time. If you complete a formal apprenticeship with a master artist, you are welcome to apply again. We would be honored to have another Vigée as a Guild member,” Monsieur Gervais said.

  Lisette searched the stalwart faces of the ten older, gray-haired men sitting in front of her. Each one appeared resolute. She had known most of them since she was a young child. Many of them had supped with her family. Her papa and mother had often discussed how the other councilmen clung to their rules and regulations, which sometimes hurt younger artists just beginning their careers. Today their rules and regulations had hurt her. Lisette realized that she should have known better.

  The men rose and began talking with one another. It was over. Lisette knew there was nothing she could do to convince them today.

  Resigned, Lisette curtsied and thanked the councilmen, “Good day, messieurs.”

  Before Lisette could leave the room, she was stopped by one of the men, Monsieur Archambauld.

  “Mademoiselle Vigée, I knew your father well. I am not happy with today’s decision. I wanted to grant you membership. Unfortunately there are other forces at work. Please apply again soon. I believe it might turn out very differently.”

  As Monsieur Archambauld spoke, he moved his head in the direction of Monsieur Gervais.

  Lisette looked over and saw Monsieur Gervais speaking with a woman. “Monsieur Archambauld, is that Madame Gervais?” Lisette asked.