“Yes, it is. Why do you ask?”
“No reason in particular. Thank you.” Lisette smiled politely at him and then quickly departed.
She left the building with so many thoughts swirling around her head. Why was Madame Gervais there? How could they not have granted me membership? Is my studio at risk? She tried to push away such thoughts. Her studio was a small room in a nondescript building on the Rue de Richelieu. No one but Le Brun and Marguerite knew about it. She hadn’t even told Rosalie why her still lifes were necessary. Rosalie had been so overjoyed at the thought of having Léonard style her hair, she had agreed with no questions asked. Lisette had realized that the fewer people involved, the better.
As she made her way onto the street, Lisette felt certain that her studio was safe. What bothered her more was seeing Madame Gervais. She couldn’t stop thinking about her.
After her meeting with the Guild councilmen, Lisette went directly back to her studio. She was surprised and disappointed that they hadn’t granted her membership, but she didn’t think it would be her undoing as Le Brun had said.
Lisette entered the building and went quickly to the stairs. Her studio was on the fourth floor, at the top of the building. As she climbed the winding, narrow staircase she saw a male figure standing at the top. She couldn’t identify him because the man faced away from her. When the man turned around, she realized it was Amante. Lisette froze. She had told Marguerite that she would see him, but in her own time. She didn’t know if she was ready to allow Amante into her life again. Would he try to command her like he had before? She continued to the top of the stairs and moved directly to the door, passing by him.
“I am very busy right now,” Lisette said as she put the key in the lock.
“Lisette, please. Can we talk?” Amante came up directly behind her while she turned the knob.
She went inside and he followed.
Lisette removed her cloak and immediately stepped over to her easel. “I already told you, I am very busy today.”
“Marguerite was quite right. You have done well for yourself,” Amante said, glancing around the room. He was smiling at her.
Lisette noticed his mouth. His full lips were distracting.
He walked closer to her easel. “You are back to allegories. This one appears promising…is that Hermes?”
He was standing so close, Lisette could smell the pomade in his hair. It was sweet like oranges. She wanted him to move away.
Lisette concentrated on her canvas. “Yes, it is. I must get back to work.” She picked up her palette.
Amante came closer still.
When Lisette reached over for her brush, Amante gently laid his hand on her forearm.
“I’ve missed you, Lisette.” He moved both of his hands to her face. Amante held Lisette’s head and regarded her.
Lisette looked back at him, seeing something new in his eyes. She had never seen him look at her that way. She could feel her resolve melting. Amante closed his eyes and leaned in so that his lips were just barely touching hers. Lisette immediately remembered how his lips felt. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. She couldn’t think clearly any longer.
As they kissed, she felt her spirit move toward the clouds. It was just as Marguerite had once described. Lisette didn’t want to come down. She wanted to float with him forever.
“Let’s retire over there,” he said while kissing her.
She could barely make out his muffled words but she knew he was talking about the chaise-lounge on the other side of the room. Their lips remained locked together when he picked her up and carried her across the room. As Lisette felt her feet leave the floor, her elbow bumped a large pail of water sitting on the window ledge next to her easel.
Splash! Without seeing exactly what had happened, Lisette realized that they were both doused in frigid water. Somehow in their maneuvering from the easel to the chaise-lounge, they had managed to tip over her water pail.
“Oh!” Lisette cried out.
They both stood and surveyed the damage.
“Are you hurt?” Amante asked.
“No.” Once Lisette realized that it was only water and not turpentine, she was relieved. She shivered. “Just cold!” Lisette noticed that the front of Amante’s culottes were dark from the spilled water.
He removed his waistcoat and placed it on Lisette’s shoulders. “It isn’t a fire, but my coat might help keep you warm.”
“It could have been much worse,” Lisette said, pulling the coat snug around her.
“Are you sure? Have you seen the front of my culottes?” Amante had a sparkle in his eye. “It looks like I couldn’t find the chamber pot!”
Lisette tried not to smile, but he was right. He looked ridiculous. She let out a chuckle and then Amante laughed. Soon they were both cackling loudly. The levity was contagious. After several minutes, they stopped laughing, but neither of them could stop smiling. They were quiet for a time as they took in each other.
“Aren’t you glad that Le Sèvre can’t barge in?” Amante said, breaking the silence.
Lisette felt the smile disappear from her lips. She removed his top coat from her shoulders and handed it back to him. “I need to clean up and get back to work.” Lisette reached down to pick up the pail.
“But aren’t you relieved that you have escaped Le Sèvre, at least for short intervals?” Amante asked.
“Can you bring me that mop?” Lisette pointed over to the corner of the room. “I need to collect this water.” When Amante didn’t move, she went to retrieve it herself. Lisette began sliding the mop back and forth over the puddle.
“But he no longer controls your life. You can’t tell me that you aren’t elated. Look around you.”
Lisette released the mop allowing it to fall to the floor. “But he does still control everything. You don’t understand.” There was so much that Amante didn’t know about Le Sèvre. Amante had been out of her life for many months. He had missed Le Sèvre’s threats of lashes and the convent. Lisette stared at the spilled water.
“Nonsense. You have this studio. You are now an independent, licensed artist,” Amante said.
Lisette grabbed the mop again and resumed wiping the floor.
“Lisette, look at me.” Amante snatched the mop out of her hands. “You are now an independent, licensed artist, right?” he said again.
“Not exactly,” Lisette said.
“What do you mean, not exactly?”
“I wasn’t granted Guild membership.”
“You are operating this studio without membership in the Guild and without a license?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “But you know what that means. It can be confiscated…everything here…everything you have worked for can be taken away…and you could be jailed.” His voice grew louder with every word.
“I don’t require membership. No one knows about this place,” Lisette retorted.
“Yes, you do. You must take care of that immediately.” Amante’s tone had drastically changed. He sounded like he was ordering one of his soldiers. It was all too familiar.
Lisette backed away from him. She would not be ordered around.
“You need to leave. I have to clean up this mess and get back to work.” Lisette hurried to the door and opened it.
Amante shook his head and said, “Lisette, please.”
Lisette didn’t care if he was frustrated with her behavior. He wasn’t her commanding officer. She said nothing as she held the door open.
Amante looked at her pleadingly for a moment and then left the studio.
Lisette bolted the door from the inside. She didn’t want any more disturbances today. She had considerable work to finish before heading home. Le Sèvre had made it clear that Lisette was expected to spend time painting in her room in his house. In the past few weeks, he had arranged numerous portrait sittings for his jewelry customers. Lisette took out her papa’s pocket watch. I only have two more hours, she realized. Lisette had a sitting with the Comtesse de Lab
elle later that afternoon.
She grabbed the mop and swiftly soaked up the remaining water.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
November 7, 1774
Le Sèvre waited by Lisette’s bedroom door. She was sure that he didn’t trust her to be alone to paint the Comtesse de Labelle. Today was the third sitting with the Comtesse in the past several weeks and Le Sèvre had been present for each one. If Lisette made sufficient progress today, this could be the final sitting. Le Sèvre hadn’t arranged any additional portrait sittings for the next few days, so Lisette was looking forward to working in her studio. She wanted to return to her latest allegory painting of Hermes and the Infant Dionysius. But Lisette had her doubts about finishing with the Comtesse. Le Sèvre had interrupted each sitting, prolonging the process.
“Comtesse, you will be very pleased with these sapphires. They are as big as eyeballs.” Le Sèvre hadn’t stopped talking since the Comtesse arrived, insisting on describing his latest shipment of jewels.
From the irritated expression on the Comtesse de Labelle’s face, Lisette could see that the Comtesse was not interested in jewels today.
“Comtesse, could you relax your brow?” Lisette asked her. “I don’t want to capture it furrowed for your portrait.”
The Comtesse turned to Le Sèvre. “Monsieur Le Sèvre, would you please leave us? My session will be much more successful if we are left alone.” She swiveled to face Lisette before he could answer.
“Yes, of course, Comtesse. Please do not hesitate to have the servants fetch me should the need arise.” Le Sèvre bowed deeply to the Comtesse and then left the room, careful to leave the door open.
The Comtesse’s face immediately relaxed. “I thought he would never leave! What an oaf that man is. I told him earlier today that I will not be buying any more jewels from him until my cousin’s wedding next month.” She paused and then added, “He must be terrible to live with.”
Lisette knew better than to concur with the Comtesse, but inside she silently agreed. He was an oaf, yes. But he was so much more. The Comtesse de Labelle had no idea how truly terrible it was to live with Le Sèvre. Lisette continued painting.
They sat in silence while Lisette worked. She was about to add the finishing touches to the Comtesse’s neck when Lisette noticed that the Comtesse wore a different necklace from the previous two sittings.
“Comtesse, you are wearing a different necklace.”
“Yes, the portrait should include the one that I am wearing now.”
“But what about the other one….the rubies and diamonds offset your eyes so nicely. It is such an unusual piece with the large, heart-shaped, central ruby,” Lisette said.
“I want this one in the portrait. I’m afraid the other one is gone.” The Comtesse squinted her eyes and knit her brow again.
“I apologize, Comtesse, I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It isn’t your fault, Lisette. The necklace was stolen a few days ago…taken from our home…from my bedroom.”
“That is despicable!” Lisette said.
“And that isn’t all…the thieves plundered three other necklaces and a bag of loose jewels. The Comte is beside himself. He is determined to find the scoundrels and bring them to justice. As we sit here, the Lieutenant Général de Police, Jean-Charles-Pierre Lenoir, is questioning everyone. Those jewels have been in my husband’s family for over three hundred years. The Comte will not relent until justice is served.”
Lisette shook her head in sympathy for the Comtesse’s plight. She began reworking the portrait so that the missing necklace was no longer portrayed on the Comtesse’s neck.
Lisette glanced at the window. The sun was already setting. It would take Lisette more time to repaint the necklace. Her painting of Hermes and the Infant Dionysius would have to wait.
The Comtesse held her pose for the remainder of her portrait sitting, but she continued to mutter under her breath, lamenting the loss of the jewelry.
Chapter Thirty
November 9, 1774
It had been several days since Lisette had last painted in her studio. Le Sèvre had scheduled portrait appointments without giving her much notice. She had been restricted to her room in his house with the sitters for days.
That morning, as soon as Le Sèvre had left the house, Lisette had headed out to her studio. The day held the promise of freedom. She would be free to paint what she liked. Her allegory painting of Hermes and the Infant Dionysius awaited her. The walk to the studio had been liberating as well. Lisette had hurried, but had been careful to dodge the many carriages that had begun to populate the mid-morning streets of the Rue Saint-Honoré and the Rue de Richelieu.
Lisette entered the building and climbed the four flights of stairs. Unlike most Parisians, she preferred the top of the building. There was less light, but there were also fewer apartments and people. Besides being the least expensive rooms to rent, the highest floor boasted quiet. Her neighbors were poor old widows scraping to survive. Today, the entire building was tranquil. As she ascended, Lisette didn’t hear the usual noises of families bickering, babies crying and lovers quarreling on the lower floors. Good. Better for me to focus, she thought.
Lisette unlocked the door and went inside. She shivered. Lisette yearned for the fireplace in her room in Le Sèvre’s house, but she gladly traded warmth for freedom. Lisette kept her cloak around her shoulders and went over to her easel.
Just as she had begun to mix pigments, someone knocked at the door. Over the past month, Lisette had let go of her paranoia. No one was coming to seize her studio or haul her to jail. She had even shared her studio’s address with close friends.
Lisette opened the door.
“Rosalie! What a pleasant surprise. Please come in,” Lisette said to her.
Rosalie wasted no time coming into the studio and beginning her inspection. “It is quite small, isn’t it? I should have thought that my paintings would have commanded more space,” Rosalie said with a coy smile. “Yes, I uncovered your motives. You needed my paintings to pay for this studio.”
Lisette wasn’t sure of Rosalie’s opinion.
“Don’t fret, my dear friend. I quite approve! It is lovely that you have your own studio.”
“Thank you, Rosalie. I wouldn’t have it without your help.”
Rosalie smiled at Lisette and walked around looking at the canvases piled up around the small room. As soon as Rosalie was finished with her examination, she turned to Lisette. “I’m a married woman!” she blurted out.
Lisette was surprised that Rosalie hadn’t mentioned her marriage as soon as Lisette had opened the door. Rosalie had been talking of nothing but her engagement since the first day they had met.
Lisette embraced her. “Congratulations, Rosalie.” Lisette was truly happy for her friend.
“I had hoped to see you at the wedding,” Rosalie said as she stepped back.
“I am very sorry that I was unable to be there. I know it was a beautiful occasion.” Lisette had wanted to attend, but had been confined to Le Sèvre’s house on the day of the wedding. It had been at the same time as a portrait sitting for the Comtesse de Briole. Lisette felt horribly, but she knew that Le Sèvre would not have allowed her to miss the sitting. Because Lisette had narrowly evaded lashes and banishment to a convent, she had thought it best not to disobey Le Sèvre again, even for her friend’s wedding.
“It was magnificent. My hair was incredible. Léonard’s creation was superb. I had never seen such a pouf in my life. I daresay the Queen might have been jealous.” Rosalie let out a giggle, like she was a little girl. Then Rosalie became serious. “How long have you been a Guild member and had the license for this studio?” Rosalie asked her.
Lisette tried to change the subject. “How is your husband?” she asked Rosalie. Lisette didn’t want to appear foolish to her friend.
“You don’t have a license, do you?”
Lisette shook her head no.
“Honestly, I don’t understand why yo
u take such risks, Lisette. How can this little studio be worth it? Painting is a worthwhile endeavor, but you would be much better off getting married. Marriage is much safer!”
“I’m not using the space to exhibit and I have not sold anything without Le Sèvre’s involvement. I don’t think I have anything to worry about,” Lisette said. She truly believed the words she was saying to Rosalie.
“I suppose so. Still, I don’t understand why you don’t find a husband.”
Lisette searched for something other than marriage to talk about with Rosalie. “Have you stayed in contact with Adélaïde? Did she attend your wedding?” Lisette asked.
Before Rosalie could respond, there was a loud pounding on the door.
“Open up, by order of the Lieutenant Général de Police and the Commissaire,” a voice bellowed from the hallway.
Lisette headed toward the door. She and Rosalie exchanged glances. Before Lisette could open the door, it flew open with great force. A bailiff with a fierce expression appeared in the doorway.
“Élisabeth Louise Vigée?” the officer asked vociferously.
Lisette faced him and nodded. “Yes.”
“This studio is being seized, by order of the Lieutenant Général de Police and the Commissaire.” The bailiff motioned to three guards who stood behind him. When they entered the room, the studio seemed to shrink. It felt tiny with so many people in it.
Rosalie gasped as she fanned herself.
Lisette watched as the bailiff ordered his men to seize her art supplies. They snatched everything they could carry. Lisette moved to prevent the men from taking her finished canvases that lined the back wall of the room.
“Why is this happening?” Lisette asked the question, but she already knew the answer.
“You are operating this studio without a license. The studio and all of its contents are being seized. Now step aside.” The bailiff shoved Lisette so hard that she nearly fell to the floor.
Becoming Lisette: A Novel (The Queen's Painter an Historical Romance Book 1) Page 25