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

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Becoming Lisette: A Novel (The Queen's Painter an Historical Romance Book 1) Page 18

by Rebecca Glenn


  “Oh, stop, Papille! You will scare her off. Why don’t we talk about something else?” suggested Monsieur Beauvais.

  Monsieur Papille lowered his head in what appeared to be false embarrassment, paused in silence for a moment and then said to the group, “Have you heard the latest…” Papille whispered loudly “…about the Dauphin’s member?”

  Lisette was shocked at hearing those words together in the same sentence, but she was intrigued. She moved in closer to hear him.

  The rotund Monsieur Papille continued, “Well, apparently he has been unable to properly insert it into the Dauphine!”

  There was a roar of laughter. “Impotent! The Dauphin is impotent!” Monsieur Papille’s voice grew louder with every word. His careful exaggeration of every syllable added to the dramatic effect.

  To Lisette, he seemed to be performing for them like an actor at the Comédie-Française. Papille’s claim made Lisette wonder, Was the Dauphin really impotent? Lisette thought back to the beautiful Dauphine she had seen in the Joyous Entry procession months ago. How could the Dauphin be impotent with such an alluring wife? she thought.

  Another man clamored, “That is why after three years of marriage there have been no children. Who thinks that the Dauphin doesn’t enjoy copulation?”

  There was a show of hands and then they exploded with laughter again.

  Lisette thought back to her papa’s dinner with Diderot. It had been the only other time she had heard such irreverence toward the royal family. She glanced around, afraid that they might be punished for their slanderous words, but no one stopped them. Lisette relaxed and allowed herself to enjoy the humorous banter.

  A woman spoke up, “Monsieur Honet, whatever are you saying? A man not liking copulation? That is like a woman not liking diamonds!”

  “True! Madame Genoux is quite right!” another wailed.

  “But what about the King’s diamond necklace for Madame du Barry?” Monsieur Papille asked.

  “Yes, Monsieur Boehmer is supposedly collecting the diamonds for it now. When it is finished, it will be worth several million livres, enough to feed all of France for many, many years,” Monsieur Honet explained.

  “Absolutely disgraceful…the King depleting the treasury of France on a gift for her,” Madame Genoux spoke with disdain.

  “Agreed. Who is to say she will remain his whore? What if he loses interest?” another woman asked.

  Lisette had heard her mother speak of Madame du Barry. She had only terrible things to say about the woman. Lisette never gave her much thought until now. She eagerly listened to what everyone said about the King’s official mistress.

  “You are quite right, Madame Jachet. I heard that du Barry is causing trouble again. The Dauphine refuses to acknowledge her and so du Barry is scheming against the Dauphine…using her influence with the King to turn him against Marie-Antoinette,” Madame Genoux offered.

  “Some say the Dauphine is being duped by the King’s sisters,” Monsieur Papille said.

  “Those spinsters? Befriending them would make anyone miserable!” Madame Jachet said.

  “Yes, but the rumor is they are telling Marie-Antoinette to snub du Barry,” said Madame Genoux.

  “A dangerous move…the Dauphine could easily lose favor with the King,” Monsieur Beauvais added.

  “Regardless, I can’t blame her. I would not want to have anything to do with a prostitute either!” Madame Jachet hooted.

  Lisette had heard her mother talk of Madame du Barry’s life before the King. After a brief spell working as a shop girl, she had become a courtesan. She had learned from a young age how to please a gentleman.

  “Well said!” Monsieur Papille yelped.

  Several of the women clapped.

  “I think the King should present such a necklace to his new granddaughter-in-law, the Dauphine, to welcome her to the royal family,” said Madame Jachet.

  “You are alone in that sentiment. If we are going to spout absurd statements, maybe the King should give it to one of his homely sisters…it might help attract a suitor,” Madame Genoux said.

  “There is no amount of jewelry in all of France that would help them,” chimed Madame Jachet.

  “I’ve heard the royal dogs are even scared off at the sight of their faces!” said Monsieur Papille with a serious expression.

  The group erupted again, cackling and howling at Monsieur Papille’s cleverness.

  He had a twinkle in his eye as he added, “Maybe the Dauphin should give it to his mistress...”

  “He doesn’t have a mistress. He doesn’t even have a properly working member!” Marguerite said.

  Lisette noticed that Marguerite had only recently re-entered the conversation.

  Everyone applauded once again.

  “Ooh, speaking of scandals, did you hear the latest rumor about Marie-Antoinette?” Madame Jachet asked the group.

  “You mean one of her ladies, Sophie Dufour…the one who is with child?” asked Madame Genoux.

  The name sounded familiar to Lisette, but she wasn’t sure who they were talking about. She continued listening.

  Monsieur Papille asked, “Whose child?”

  “I heard a rumor that the father is the Comte d’Artois,” Monsieur Cochin said as he rejoined the group.

  The crowd collectively oohed. Lisette could not believe the number of court scandals. It seemed as if this conversation could go on forever. They would never run out of rumors, gossip and stories.

  “No, I heard it is the King’s other brother, the Comte de Provence,” Monsieur Beauvais said.

  “Never, he is too fat to even see his own member!” Monsieur Papille exclaimed.

  Everyone giggled.

  “No one knows the father’s identity,” Madame Genoux said confidently.

  “Well, we all know it wasn’t the Dauphin! He keeps his member under lock and key!” Monsieur Papille jibed.

  The group burst into jubilant cries again. The reference to the Dauphin’s obsession with locks was well received. Lisette had heard her mother talk about how the Dauphin was known for tinkering with keys and locks. She had said that most of France thought it bespoke of his disinterest in state affairs. He would rather be playing with his locking mechanisms than helping his grandfather rule the country.

  Lisette was laughing alongside everyone else when Amante re-entered the room, walking arm in arm with a fetching woman. He sat down next to the woman and several others that were flirting excessively with him. Amante was whispering in the ear of the prettiest. Lisette wanted to stop watching, but she couldn’t. Only after someone tapped on her shoulder, did she look away. Lisette peered up. It was the Salonnière.

  “You’re not sure what to think about Amante, are you?” Marguerite breathed in Lisette’s ear.

  The Salonnière’s voice interrupted Lisette’s stupor. She found it difficult not to watch Amante with the other women.

  “Follow me,” Marguerite said as she stood and motioned for Lisette to walk with her out of the room.

  Monsieur Beauvais was the only one who took notice of her departure. He waved at Lisette.

  Marguerite hooked Lisette’s arm in hers and led her toward a more remote part of the house, down a long hall. They entered a room at the end of it. After Marguerite closed the door, she offered Lisette a seat on a luxurious velvet couch. Lisette had never seen such a room before. It was a private chamber with intimate furniture including a curtained bed tucked away in a wall alcove. She didn’t know if it was its cozy location in the wall niche, or the buttercup silk linens and bright blue taffeta eiderdown covering it that made the bed appear so inviting. The bed curtains were of the same yellow and blue colors and were topped with wispy, white feathers.

  Lisette studied the room. Not only was the bed covered in yellow and blue stripes, but the decoration of the entire room followed a similar color scheme. She saw it on the windows, on the upholstered furniture and even on the floor carpets.

  Lisette sank down on the couch. What is t
hat smell? she wondered. She inhaled deeply. Jasmine and oranges, Lisette realized. In each corner of the room, sitting on small tables, were pairs of tall silver perfume burners. Lisette felt like she was intoxicated, but had not sipped any spirits. It was as if she had entered another realm.

  “Do you like it?” Marguerite wore an impish look, as if she was greatly enjoying Lisette’s wonderment. She sat on a plush chaise-lounge opposite Lisette. Marguerite extended her legs on the long chair and reclined.

  Lisette nodded her head. “What is this room?”

  “This is one of my boudoirs, my private boudoir, in fact. Scandalous isn’t it!”

  Lisette agreed. It did seem scandalous, but intriguing at the same time.

  “I know. You have never seen a boudoir and you are wondering what takes place in such a room.”

  Lisette nodded, but she had a good idea of what Marguerite did here.

  The Salonnière continued, “Many things go on in this room, like talking and flirting.”

  “But isn’t that what happens in the outer rooms?” Lisette asked.

  “Yes, but in this room you can become even better acquainted. You can get to know the other person much more…intimately. If the talking leads to touching and that leads to lovemaking, then so be it. You are free to explore in the boudoir.”

  “I see.” Lisette could think of nothing else to say in response. She had never given flirting and lovemaking all that much thought. It seemed as if the Salonnière had elevated those activities to an art form. Lisette supposed that conversation and flirting could be a serious occupation for the Salonnière, like painting was for her.

  “But that is not why I brought you back here. I want to tell you about Amante. Do you know what you are doing with him?” Marguerite said.

  “He has agreed to be my patron. He has paid for lessons and supplies. In exchange, I am expected to paint for him. We have a business arrangement, an understanding. That is all,” Lisette said plainly.

  “You think that is all?”

  “Yes. That is all we desire from each other.”

  Marguerite smiled as if she knew something that Lisette didn’t. “My dear, are you sure that is all you want from him? Because I am quite sure that isn’t all that he wants from you.”

  “Yes. I only wish to paint.”

  “But you are also a woman...a beautiful woman...and Amante can see that. He desires you, my dear, and I think you desire him too.”

  “Nothing could be further from the truth.” Lisette thought about how Amante was flirting with the women in the other room.

  “My dear, I have known Amante a long time. In my years of knowing many men, I’ve never met one quite like him. He is a special kind of man…the kind of man that can make a woman feel magnificent. He can bring you such pleasure...the sort that you have only dreamed about.”

  “You mean in the bedroom?”

  “Yes, that kind of pleasure for certain, but another kind too. He loves all women and always wants to make women feel good...good about who they are and about their place in this world. He truly believes women should be free to be whomever they want to be. He doesn’t think they are the lesser or weaker sex…not at all. He will bring you up so high, you’ll float toward the heavens.”

  Lisette didn’t know what to say. She sat and listened as the Salonnière continued.

  “But you must also know that he doesn’t remain floating with you. He always leaves. He can’t be with one woman forever.”

  Lisette nodded to show that she was listening. Logically, she knew she should stay away from this man, but Marguerite’s talk of pleasure echoed in her mind. She felt a faint stirring in her groin as she considered it.

  The Salonnière leaned forward and said, “Be with him. Enjoy him. He will change your world, but be sure you know exactly who you are getting into bed with and who you are allowing into your heart. He will not marry you and he won’t be with you every day. But when he is there, he will give you the greatest ecstasy you have known...and probably will ever know. You will feel like each day is anew, like Venus the day she was born on the conch shell in the sea foam.”

  There was something in the Salonnière’s tone that made Lisette think that she was speaking from experience. She guessed that Marguerite and Amante had been paramours at some point and for whatever reason were no longer lovers, but had remained close friends.

  “My dear, if you want to be with Amante, be with him. If you want to be with other men, be with other men. That is your prerogative as an alluring, talented woman!”

  Lisette considered Marguerite’s words. No one had ever explained love or men in this way to Lisette, certainly not her mother. Marguerite spoke with such conviction, as if she was speaking from the priest’s pulpit during High Mass. She seemed to believe what she was saying with all of her being. Nonetheless, Lisette knew that she was not ready to enter Amante’s world.

  “I simply want to be an artist,” she repeated.

  “If that is the case, then I can offer you some advice.”

  Lisette was about to say no thank you when Marguerite kept talking.

  “You need to embrace your femininity more. Dispense with the fichu and reveal more of your breasts. Flirt more with men. It can only help you.”

  Help my career as an artist? she thought. Lisette had her doubts.

  “Trust me, heeding my advice will only benefit your career. Parisians have little depth. They will line up to have you paint their portrait simply because they consider you to be a pretty, fashionable woman. They will send their friends to you because you are skilled. But be careful, they can be fickle. You remember Madame Partin.”

  Lisette knew what Marguerite said was true. She was keenly aware that the Duchesse and her friends could abandon her at any moment. No one knew noblewomen’s fickle nature better than the merchants they frequented and particularly the milliner, Madame Partin. The year before, in the month of April, Madame Partin could barely meet the demand for her specialty hats. Then, after the Comtesse Deblois was swept up in a scandal wearing one of Madame Partin’s hats, her business quickly dwindled. By the summer of the same year, Madame Partin was forced to close her doors.

  Before Lisette could say anything in response, there was a knock on the door.

  “Excuse me, my dear. I had hoped we wouldn’t be interrupted,” said Marguerite as she rose to answer it.

  Monsieur Beauvais stepped into the room. “Apologies, Marguerite, but I wanted to see Mademoiselle Vigée before I left.”

  “Please, come in, Monsieur Beauvais,” the Salonnière said, smiling at Lisette.

  “Mademoiselle Vigée, I greatly enjoyed your company this evening. If I can ever be of assistance, please do not hesitate to visit my studio.” He bowed and kissed her hand.

  Lisette glanced over at the Salonnière who was nodding with approval. She was also pointing to her mouth while exaggerating her smile.

  “Thank you, Monsieur Beauvais,” Lisette said. She forced herself to smile wider than she normally did, although she wasn’t sure it was necessary. Lisette sensed that Monsieur Beauvais’ offer to help her was sincere and offered without the expectation of anything in return.

  Monsieur Beauvais bowed again and then left them.

  “See, my dear, being more feminine helps. Flirt a little more, smile a little bigger. You will see men falling all over themselves to help you with whatever you desire.”

  Lisette remained skeptical.

  Marguerite continued, “You need to dress in tighter gowns with exposed, low necklines. Put a little rouge on your cheeks and…”

  Lisette’s mind wandered as she thought about what Amante was doing in the next room.

  Marguerite continued, “…Throw your head back and expose your neck and bosom more when you talk. And of course, don’t forget the lavender perfume behind −” She stopped talking and came over to Lisette. “I know this is all new. Don’t worry, I can be patient. Someone once helped me. I was hesitant to accept her advice too. Now, le
t’s go back out to the drawing room and tear Amante away from those women. Leave with him in his carriage tonight and let him kiss you. I promise you won’t regret it.”

  Marguerite had made a convincing argument on Amante’s behalf, but Lisette suspected that he would only bring her trouble. Lisette decided that she would be polite to Marguerite, but that she wouldn’t pursue Amante. She would say good night to him and then leave on her own.

  The Salonnière smiled warmly and then escorted Lisette out of her boudoir. “I want to see you at my salon every week. We can talk more when I see you next.” She gave Lisette a gentle push toward the drawing room. Marguerite stayed behind, almost as if she wanted to watch Lisette from a distance.

  Lisette returned to the drawing room where she found Amante flirting with the same women. They seemed to be hanging on him even more. Lisette approached him and quickly said, “Good night.” She turned and made her way out of the room before he could respond.

  Lisette had reached the main hall when she heard footsteps behind her.

  “Lisette! Wait!”

  She turned around. Amante was dashing toward her.

  “Lisette, there is more I want to say to you this evening. You rushed out.”

  As soon as she looked at him, her resoluteness faded. She felt her legs become weak, like they weren’t going to take another step on their own.

  Without saying anything, Amante gently led her into a dark corner of the hallway. He pulled her close to him and leaned in to kiss her. Lisette fought to maintain control of her senses, but found it difficult. At first he kissed her gently and then as her body responded to his touch, his kiss became stronger, more forceful and more passionate. Without thinking, she put her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with equal fervor. Unable to control her body, her mind surrendered. Amante.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  October 28, 1773

  The next morning, the light woke Lisette. She had stumbled into bed with her head in a fog, unable to think of anything but Amante.

  In her stupor, she had forgotten to draw her bed curtains and shut her windows’ drapes. Still in bed, Lisette turned her head and looked out of her window. From this angle she could only see the sky. It was a beautiful, clear blue sky with a few clouds, not the amorphous thin-looking ones, but the fluffy, pure white clouds.

 

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