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

by Rebecca Glenn

  Lisette had been lingering in bed, not wanting to begin the day. She was afraid that if she started her day, she would forget last night. Amante, she thought. Lisette touched her lips. She could still feel his soft, full lips pressing against hers. Lisette had taken the Salonnière’s advice. She had shared a carriage with Amante and allowed him to kiss her for the duration of the ride.

  Even now, she could hear Marguerite’s voice: He doesn’t think women are the lesser or weaker sex…not at all. He will bring you up so high, you’ll float toward the heavens. Lisette watched the clouds forming high in the sky outside her window. She didn’t want to come down.

  “Lisette, are you still in bed?”

  She heard her mother’s voice outside her door.

  “No, Mother.” Lisette quickly rose and pulled off her linen night shift. “Come in.”

  Lisette stood naked as her mother came into her room.

  “You’re just now getting dressed?” Her mother walked over to the armoire and selected a dress and matching petticoat. “This one is my favorite. You look lovely in it.”

  It was one of Lisette's most formal gowns, one that required a corset. She didn’t want to wear it to her lesson today with Briard. It would restrict her movement, but she couldn’t explain her reasons to her mother. Lisette sighed.

  Jeanne brought the gown over to the bed and then helped Lisette with her corset.

  As her mother laced it, Lisette glanced out of the window. The billowy, white clouds had disappeared. The sky had turned dark and it had started to rain.

  “Your father tells me that you have missed sittings these past few days. You are causing him trouble,” Jeanne said.

  Lisette defended herself, “I have been busy, Mother.”

  “Not too busy to obey your father.” Her mother tugged hard at the corset’s strings, pulling them tight.

  Lisette cringed. It was the second time her mother had used the word, father. Lisette jerked herself away from her mother. “He is not my father.”

  Jeanne took several steps toward Lisette. She resumed lacing Lisette’s corset and said, “I will not hear you say that. He is your father now. You need to obey him. This is his house and we must abide by his rules.” Jeanne finished lacing the corset. She picked up the gown and held it for Lisette. “He provides us with so many fine things. Like this very dress.”

  “But, Mother, he is cruel.”

  “Nonsense. He loves and cares for us.” Jeanne helped Lisette slip into her petticoat and then fit the open gown onto her torso.

  Lisette noticed her mother’s forearms. There were new bruises, although the new ones were difficult to distinguish from the older ones. They blended so well together in one big, purple, green and red jumble.

  “How did you get those bruises, Mother?”

  Jeanne ignored Lisette’s question.

  Her mother began pinning the embroidered stomacher onto the front of the bodice as she talked. “He always apologizes…and gives me tokens of his affection. Just yesterday he gave me this beautiful bracelet.” The bracelet had a wide gold band encrusted with rubies and diamonds. The diamonds dazzled in the morning light.

  Lisette said nothing, neither acknowledging her mother’s comments nor the bracelet.

  There was silence between them while Jeanne finished grooming Lisette. She turned Lisette so that she could smooth out the pleats on the back of the dress.

  Once Jeanne was satisfied with Lisette’s appearance, she spoke, “He is only trying to help us…help you. Look at how your career has blossomed under his guidance.”

  “Mother, he is only using me…to keep his customers happy so they continue to buy his jewels.”

  Jeanne dismissed Lisette’s comments and began searching the armoire. “Lisette where is your linen fichu?” She rifled through several drawers. “We must find it. A young woman’s honor is directly tied to her modesty.”

  “Mother, are you listening to me?” Lisette asked.

  Jeanne stepped over to Lisette’s commode and began searching there. “Where is that fichu?”

  “Mother, please listen to me.”

  Jeanne stopped searching and walked back over to Lisette. She held Lisette by both shoulders and faced her. “Look around you, this house, this neighborhood… We would have none of it without him. Louis certainly never gave us anything like this.” Her voice exposed her agitation.

  Lisette felt her heart beat faster. She had heard enough. Lisette couldn’t listen to her mother disparage her papa like that. Her ensemble wasn’t complete without a fichu, but Lisette didn’t care. Without looking at her mother or saying anything else, she slipped on her shoes, grabbed her cloak and satchel and ran out of the room.

  Her mother called after her, “Lisette! Where are you going? You aren’t wearing a fichu!”

  Lisette didn’t answer her mother. She started down the stairs toward the front vestibule.

  “You can’t walk away from me, Lisette.” Her mother ran after her. “Your father will want to know where you are going.”

  Lisette did not look back or answer her mother. Just before she reached the front door, she saw Henri. He looked down at her satchel and they briefly exchanged glances. Lisette knew she could trust Henri to keep her secret.

  She had crossed the threshold of the front door when she heard her mother’s voice. It was much louder than usual. “Henri, Monsieur Le Sèvre will want to know where Lisette is going. He will get it out of you.”

  Henri waved Lisette on with his hand and smiled at her reassuringly. “Go, Mademoiselle. Go.” Then he closed the heavy door.

  Later that day, Lisette was careful not to make much noise as she came through the front door of Le Sèvre’s house. It was already dark and supper would be served soon. She had timed her return just right. As long as she was back in time for the late evening meal, no one would care that she had been out.

  Lisette was exhausted. She had stayed at Briard’s studio long after her formal lesson had concluded. The other girls had left, but Lisette had wanted to master eludoric painting before she went home. The new technique used water and oil in a way to prevent the deterioration of the oil long after it was dry. Briard was a big proponent of this innovative method. He, like other artists, was excited with the advancement in oil painting. The new method would better preserve paintings so that the paint would not flake off with time. Lisette smiled as she thought about how well her lessons were progressing. It was the one aspect of her life that Le Sèvre couldn’t control.

  Lisette started up the stairs toward her room. The rain hadn’t stopped all day and the water falling off of her cloak made the marble stairs especially slick. Before going to the dining room, Lisette would make sure that she looked presentable. She had to safeguard her secret from Le Sèvre and her mother as long as she could.

  She needed to dry off and stash her satchel, but more importantly, she had to be certain that all traces of paint were removed from her hands. Lisette had been careful to wear an apron to protect her mother’s favorite gown. She had also worn a cap, but that didn’t always prevent paint from getting in her hair. Lisette felt her head for any hair that had stiffened from splattered paint. Good, she thought. Lisette hadn’t spilled paint on her hair, but it did feel unkempt. She tucked her loose hairs behind her ears. As she did this, she discovered a small paint brush behind her left ear. She pulled it out and continued up the stairs. Lisette was halfway up the staircase when she heard someone come up behind her.

  “Where have you been?” Le Sèvre was suddenly with her on the stairs. His voice was booming.

  Lisette paused, then turned around. “I went out for a walk in the Tuileries.”

  “With that satchel? And in the rain?” he asked, looking at the paint brush in her hand that she had just removed from behind her ear.

  Lisette shook her head yes.

  “I don’t believe you.” Le Sèvre moved to a higher stair so that he towered over Lisette.

  “May I put my bag down? I will join y
ou and Mother for supper.”

  “You can hand it over to me. You won’t be needing it anymore.”

  Lisette was stunned and unable to move.

  “You heard me. No more lessons. If I find out that you continue to see Briard, there will be dire consequences. Now hand over your satchel.” Le Sèvre stood with his arm outstretched.

  How did he find out? she wondered. Had Le Sèvre talked to Amante? She stared at him in disbelief.

  “You’ll need to tell Capitaine de Chaumont that he can stop payments to Briard. You will no longer be going to the Louvre for lessons,” Le Sèvre explained. His voice was thundering, but somehow he maintained a calm and even timbre.

  “No! You can’t do this!” Lisette screeched. She had never raised her voice to him.

  “What did you say to me?”

  Lisette immediately realized she had made an unforgivable mistake.

  Le Sèvre slapped her across the face.

  The impact was so strong she fell backward, tumbling down the marble stairs. When she landed at the bottom, she was still gripping her satchel tightly. Lisette opened her eyes.

  Le Sèvre loomed over her.

  He grabbed the satchel out of her hands. “Go to your room. You can join us for supper after you’ve composed yourself.” He turned and marched away.

  Where is Mother? Lisette thought. Had her mother not heard her fall? Lisette remained at the base of the staircase for several moments. She wasn’t sure what had just happened. Lisette surveyed her body for damage. Her head throbbed and a bump was starting to swell from her plunge down the stairs, but she was otherwise unharmed.

  Satisfied that nothing was broken, Lisette's mind turned to Briard. Her heart sank as she accepted the reality of the loss of her lessons. She knew that in time her head would recover, but she was unsure how she would manage without Briard’s instruction. Le Sèvre can’t do this. He can’t prevent me from taking lessons, she thought.

  Lisette slowly collected herself and deliberately climbed the stairs to her room. Before she arrived at her bedroom door, she saw Henri lurking in the shadows.

  “I’m sorry, Mademoiselle Lisette. I didn’t want to tell him.” He stepped forward and Lisette saw Henri’s hands. They were wrapped in white linen bandages which were now pink from the blood they had absorbed.

  “I know, Henri. Please don’t worry about me. Go take care of your hands.” Lisette smiled at him holding back tears as she considered the pain he had suffered in an attempt to keep her secret. Her head was beginning to ache terribly.

  “Let me assist you, Mademoiselle Lisette. You should lie down.” Henri took Lisette’s arm and helped her walk up the stairs.

  Once they were in her room, Lisette said, “Thank you, Henri. You must go downstairs to the dining room before you are missed.” Lisette didn’t want him punished again. She added, “Have Camille change your bandages before you retire tonight.”

  Lisette collapsed on her bed. She didn’t care that she was still wearing her wet cloak. She gently laid her head on her pillow. In the quiet, the pain from her injury became more pronounced. Lisette closed her eyes. Amante doesn’t know. I must tell him, she thought. Picturing Amante in her mind helped to ease the pounding in her head. Lying in the dark, Lisette made a decision.

  She slowly rose from her bed, stepped over to the door and waited until the servants were gathered in the dining room. She felt her forehead and noticed that the lump had grown. The pain was intensifying. Lisette listened at the door for several moments. When she was certain no one was in her path, Lisette made her way downstairs and out of the house.

  As she stood in the foyer of the Salonnière’s, Lisette felt her head. Although it was still painful, the lump had stopped swelling. It could have been worse, she thought. The footman had just left her to find Amante. Lisette hoped that he was there tonight.

  “Here to see Amante?” Marguerite reached out to embrace her.

  Lisette gave her a kiss on both cheeks.

  Marguerite surveyed Lisette’s body starting with her shoes and ending at her head, where the lump had formed.

  “I need to speak to him and him only. I am not staying for the evening’s festivities.”

  “No, my dear, I am not worried about your attire. I am looking at a bump on your head. Are you well?”

  “I will be, after I see Amante. I won’t stay long,” Lisette said again.

  “Pity. I have had several of my regular guests ask after you. I hate to disappoint.” Marguerite gingerly spun Lisette around, not unlike the way her mother often did. “Next time I hope to see you in one of the new gowns I sent.”

  Lisette nodded but said nothing about the gifts. She did not have time to explain why she could never wear Marguerite’s dresses as long as she lived with Le Sèvre. Safely tucked away under her bedroom floor, the dresses would remain hidden from her mother and Le Sèvre.

  “Do you know where he is?” Lisette asked anxiously. She had to speak to Amante and then return home before Le Sèvre realized she was missing again. Lisette didn’t want Henri beaten further.

  “He is in there.” Marguerite pointed to one of the smaller drawing rooms off the foyer.

  Lisette hesitated. Why were the doors closed? she wondered. Marguerite usually insisted that they remain open.

  “Go right in.” Marguerite smiled strangely at Lisette. She had an odd expression on her face, one that Lisette had seen before. Lisette had noticed it when Marguerite had talked about the pleasure Amante could offer her.

  Lisette headed toward the doors. Pleasure was the last thing on her mind. She needed to find a way to keep her lessons with Briard. On the carriage ride to the Salonnière’s, Lisette had considered what she would say to Amante. She struggled with the best way to explain how Le Sèvre had inserted himself into their business. She wasn’t sure how he would accept the news. As a capitaine, Amante was the one who gave orders, not received them.

  Lisette opened the doors and entered the small room. She immediately saw Amante. Her stomach briefly fluttered when he looked at her. Then she saw the other women. The fluttering in her stomach was suddenly replaced with a horrible twisting. She felt her insides churning. Amante sat on a long couch in between two young women. They were giggling and playfully touching each other. Why did I come here tonight? Amante doesn’t want to hear about my lessons, she thought. Lisette turned to leave.

  “What a marvelous surprise!” Amante called after her.

  Lisette pivoted to face him.

  Abandoning the women on the couch, Amante approached her.

  “You weren’t leaving were you? How long have you been here?” Amante asked.

  Lisette peered over at the women as she said, “It looks like you are otherwise occupied. We can talk at a later time….one that is more convenient for you.”

  Amante glanced over at the women. “Them? Nonsense. I am yours. You have my complete attention. Come, let’s move to a more intimate setting. I know just the place.”

  Amante took Lisette’s hand, gently led her down the hall and into a room that Lisette had never seen. They went inside and Amante shut the door behind them.

  Lisette peered around the space. It was a smaller version of Marguerite’s boudoir. Marguerite’s house seemed to have many boudoirs.

  Amante invited Lisette to sit beside him on a short silk upholstered sofa, just big enough for two people.

  Her heart raced. Lisette’s body moved without her mind’s approval. She knew that she shouldn’t be alone with him on this sofa or in this room, but she couldn’t control herself. She sat down.

  “At last. We are alone. Ma chérie.” He softly brushed her cheek. Then his hand moved from her cheek to her forehead. “My dear, what is this on your head?”

  “Le Sèvre −”

  He interrupted her, “Le Sèvre did this to you? I am going over there right now.” Amante stood up with a jolt.

  She saw his face redden as his chest protruded like a ferocious animal. Lisette had never seen Amante
so angry.

  “Wait. Let me explain. There is more,” Lisette said as she urged him to sit again.

  “There’s more?” he said, slowly lowering himself onto the sofa.

  “It is about Briard.”

  “I don’t understand. How is Briard involved?” Amante was sitting on the sofa’s edge.

  “It is the lessons. Le Sèvre has cut me off. I can no longer see Master Briard,” Lisette blurted out.

  Amante frowned. “What do you mean? I am the one who is paying. He has no say in the matter.”

  “But he does. He is my guardian.”

  Amante bolted up again and paced in front of her. “He has no business interfering with our relationship. That is between you and me.”

  Lisette hadn’t wanted to lose control of her emotions. She felt tears building up behind her eyes. Seeing Amante become defensive of their relationship made it difficult for Lisette to hold them at bay. A tear fell down her cheek. Then another.

  Amante regarded her. “Ah, chérie, all will be well.” He sat down next to her and leaned in close. He beheld her like no man had before.

  Lisette suddenly wanted him to kiss her. She closed her eyes. The instant his lips met hers, she felt her stomach dancing and the little hairs on her arms stiffen. He slowly inserted his tongue into her mouth. She pushed her body against his and opened her mouth wider, allowing his tongue to invade deeper. Amante placed one hand on her thigh while the other reached up to lightly touch her cheek. As he caressed her cheek, his hand brushed her ear.

  He jerked back, letting out a low laugh as he held up a small paint brush. “Are you planning to paint my portrait tonight?”

  She grabbed the brush out of his hand. “I must have put it there while Briard was showing me…” She looked down at the floor.

  “Lisette, I will make sure you continue with your lessons.” His voice became agitated again.