Marguerite had left Paris the day before, but not before she had arranged for Le Sèvre’s supper invitation from the Comtesse. Monsieur Mondeval had insisted on an encore voyage to Italy. Marguerite had told Lisette that she would oblige him, for fear of losing Monsieur Mondeval’s affections. Lisette had not seen Marguerite carry on with a man for longer than a week or two. Monsieur Mondeval must have been a superior lover to have captured Marguerite’s attentions for so long.
Lisette struggled, but she managed to open the door and go inside.
Monsieur Faucher came rushing to the front as soon as Lisette had entered. “Mademoiselle Vigée, we are not open. I’m afraid we cannot accept any canvases right now. Monsieur Le Brun is not here.” Monsieur Faucher stuck his nose up in the air, as usual.
Lisette ignored him. She strode past Monsieur Faucher and headed for the back where she knew Le Brun would be hiding. Lisette could hear rustling behind the curtain that separated the back area from the front. Then she saw the curtain move. Le Brun is here. I knew it, she thought.
“Mademoiselle Vigée, you can’t go back there!” Monsieur Faucher followed closely behind Lisette.
She reached the curtain and then drew it open. “Le Brun! I know you are here. I can hear you,” she said. Lisette took a few steps forward so that she was on the other side of the curtain.
The space behind it had been divided into several different areas, all separated by screens to create multiple rooms. Within the partitions, Lisette saw Old Master paintings from Italy, Dutch landscapes, Flemish portraits and French genre paintings. She could only imagine what other paintings Le Brun stored here. She also noticed large wooden crates on the floor containing even more paintings. Lisette heard a male voice whispering behind one of the partitions. She was sure it was Le Brun.
“Le Brun! It is Lisette. I have something for you,” she said.
Lisette hoped that he would at least be curious. They hadn’t seen each other since before her studio was seized. He had not agreed to sell her paintings, but he had said that he wanted to remain in contact.
There was silence for a moment and then Lisette heard stirring again. She could make out the sounds of buckles clanking like someone was quickly getting dressed. Soon after the noises ceased, Le Brun stepped out from behind a partition.
“Lisette! How good to see you,” Le Brun said.
Like the past few times Lisette had seen him, Le Brun’s appearance was disorderly. His hair was disheveled, his linen chemise was stained, wrinkled and untucked from his culottes and he had a smear of red on the left side of his face. Rouge, she thought. Lisette rolled her eyes. Always the same with Le Brun, she said to herself. Lisette had heard the rumors about Le Brun: the gambling, the debts, the drinking, and the women. As long as it hadn’t interfered with their business relationship, Lisette hadn’t been concerned about Le Brun’s private life.
Lisette held out the satchel in front of her. “These are for you.”
“I didn’t know that you were painting again…after the studio was seized.” Le Brun looked confused.
“I haven’t been. These paintings were spared,” Lisette explained.
Le Brun raised his hand in protest. “You know I cannot sell your works without involving Le Sèvre. You know we can’t work together.”
“These aren’t for sale. These are for safekeeping.”
“Why? Are you leaving? Where are you going?” Le Brun sounded paranoid.
“It doesn’t matter. All that matters is keeping these paintings safe. I can’t have anything happen to them. I’ve already lost so much.”
“Losing the studio was a shame, but I warned you. I said you needed a license from the Guild first.”
Lisette did not want to discuss what had happened with the Guild or with Le Sèvre. She needed Le Brun to take her paintings.
“Keep my paintings safe, please?”
“Does Le Sèvre know about this?”
“Just take the paintings and keep them here. No one has to know about it but you and me,” Lisette said.
She heard someone cough. Faucher, Lisette thought.
He was standing on the other side of the curtain.
“Don’t worry about him. He does what I tell him to do,” Le Brun said.
She saw the curtain move and Faucher appeared in front of them.
“Monsieur Le Brun, have you forgotten about the agreement between Monsieur Le Sèvre and Monsieur Voclain? It will be enforced if you fail to comply with Monsieur Le Sèvre’s wishes. No more loans for your private affairs,” Faucher reminded him.
Lisette had heard that name before. Monsieur Voclain was notorious. He was a well-known lender of money to gamblers. Lisette thought about the bag of money that was in the bottom of her satchel. She decided that it was probably best not to mention it to Le Brun. If he didn’t know of its existence, it might still be there when Lisette returned. In all of their business dealings, Le Brun had always given Lisette the money that she was owed. She had no reason to think that he would want to steal from her now. Besides, it wasn’t that large of a sum.
Le Brun was silent as he considered Lisette’s request.
She asked again, “Then you’ll do it? You’ll keep my paintings safe?”
“I can’t. I’m sorry, Lisette,” Le Brun said and then turned around and returned behind the partition.
Lisette moved swiftly through the corridors of the Louvre. He has to say yes, she thought. There wasn’t anyone else Lisette could trust with her paintings. Briard has to help me, Lisette hoped.
As Lisette approached Monsieur Briard’s studio, she heard raised voices. The door was open, but she waited before stepping inside. Lisette stood next to the open door and listened from the hall. She didn’t want to upset Briard immediately before asking him for a favor. Lisette couldn’t see inside the studio, but she could hear every word that was said.
“But Monsieur Pierre, you said you would support her,” Lisette heard a woman’s voice say.
“I never said any such thing, Comtesse.” Lisette heard a man reply, probably Monsieur Pierre. Lisette had previously met the Premier Peintre du Roi, but it had only been once and she didn’t immediately recognize his voice.
The woman spoke again, “I distinctly remember when you gave your explicit support of my daughter for the position of Queen’s Painter.”
“Monsieur Briard, you were there, do you remember me uttering such a statement about the Comtesse’s daughter?” Monsieur Pierre asked.
“Monsieur Pierre, I was there, but not for the entire meeting. If you recall, I had Académie business which required my attention. I left the meeting early.”
“Well then, will you give me your support today? There are others I need to speak to about this matter. I must tread carefully with the Queen and your outward support would make this process much smoother,” the Comtesse said.
“I have not yet made up my mind, Comtesse. I do not know who I will back for Queen’s Painter. Such an official position for the Queen has no precedence. I require more time to consider the choices,” Monsieur Pierre said.
“As do I,” Briard said.
“But my Adélaïde is the best painter for the position, isn’t that right Briard?” the Comtesse asked.
That is Adélaïde’s mother, the Comtesse de La Valette! Lisette realized.
“Comtesse, there is no doubt that Adélaïde is a very talented painter.” Briard sounded reassuring.
“So then I have your support?” the Comtesse asked.
“You cannot put so much pressure on us. We will both give our decisions when it is time,” Monsieur Pierre said, speaking for both himself and Briard.
“Monsieur Pierre is right. I am not yet ready to make a decision,” Briard said.
“I cannot wait forever. I expect a response shortly. My daughter will be the Queen’s Painter. Good day, messieurs,” the Comtesse said.
Lisette heard fabric rustling and the light footsteps of a woman. Within moments, the Comtesse de La Valet
te came out of the studio. Lisette tried to stay out of her way, but the Comtesse moved so quickly, her shoulder brushed Lisette’s arm.
“And who is this little spy?” the Comtesse de La Valette asked vituperously.
Lisette stepped back. She immediately recognized the woman. Lisette could never forget the scar on her left cheek. The Comtesse had threatened her at Versailles when Lisette had mistakenly stumbled upon her with her daughter.
Lisette said nothing.
The woman’s dark eyes bore into Lisette. The Comtesse de La Valette bent close to her and in a whisper said, “I remember you. The last time we met you were in a similar position − listening to conversations that don’t concern you. My dear, I hope I do not see you here or at Versailles again…or anywhere for that matter. I do not care for spies.” The Comtesse turned to walk away, but before she left, she said in a glaring voice, “Briard, you have a little eavesdropper. You ought to be more careful.”
Lisette watched her stride away.
Briard came over to the door. “Lisette, how pleasant to see you. Never mind the Comtesse de La Valette…please come in.”
Lisette stepped into Briard’s studio. It had been many months since she had been there last. She immediately relaxed. It felt like she had come home.
“Lisette, let me introduce you to Monsieur Pierre.”
“We’ve met.” Pierre barely looked at Lisette as he headed toward the door. “Good day, Monsieur Briard.” Pierre nodded slightly to Briard and then left the studio.
“To what do I owe this visit, Lisette?” Briard asked her once they were alone. He glanced at her satchel, noticing it for the first time.
“I need your help with these paintings.” She offered him the satchel full of her canvases.
Briard smiled at Lisette and took the satchel from her.
After returning to Le Sèvre’s house from Briard’s atelier, Lisette waited. She patiently anticipated the invitation’s delivery.
Finally, as dusk approached, a servant wearing the livery of the Orléans family arrived at the house.
Lisette plucked the invitation out of the servant’s hands.
“But Mademoiselle, this letter is intended for Monsieur Le Sèvre. My instructions were to deliver it to him,” the servant protested.
“I will personally hand it over to my father this evening. You have my word,” Lisette said. She held the young boy’s gaze until he conceded and departed.
Lisette examined the invitation. It bore the seal of the Duchesse de Chartres. Lisette knew what was inside: an invitation to supper at the Palais-Royal at the request of the Duc and Duchesse de Chartres. Le Sèvre won’t be able to say no, Lisette thought. Marguerite has succeeded.
Lisette threw on her cloak and left the house. She had no desire to see Le Sèvre and had been avoiding him for the past few days, but for her plan to work, she had to deliver the supper invitation in person. She would go to his store and convince him to say yes to the supper. Lisette took out her papa’s pocket watch. Good. He’ll still be there, she thought.
As Lisette made her way down the Rue Saint-Honoré, she watched the people and carriages moving in every direction. Great ladies and men rode in carriages on their way to the Opéra or the Comédie-Française. Servants gathered last minute supplies for the suppers that were to take place after their masters returned home from the evening’s performances. Lamplighters were just beginning their momentous task of lighting Paris’ street lamps for the evening.
Once she had arrived at Le Sèvre’s shop, Lisette went up to the front door, but didn’t go in immediately. She didn’t want to interrupt Le Sèvre if he was with a customer. Lisette peered in the front windows to see what was happening inside.
Le Sèvre moved around behind the back counter. He paced while barking orders at his assistants. Lisette did not see any customers.
She smoothed out the front of her dress and went inside. Breathe, she reminded herself. She clenched her fists as she walked in.
It took several moments before Le Sèvre noticed her. One of his assistants saw Lisette first and alerted Le Sèvre to her presence. Le Sèvre was reading papers he held in his hands. He barely looked up at her.
“Lisette, you do not need any more supplies, you are leaving for the convent in a few days. Now, go home. I am very busy.” As he returned to his papers, Lisette noticed that his face was relaxed, without any particular expression on it. He neither smiled nor grimaced.
“I thought you would want to know about this immediately. I came right over as soon as it came to the house,” Lisette said, holding up the invitation. She tried to maintain a similar neutrality, even though her stomach twisted itself into coils as she spoke. She felt her mid-day meal creep its way back up her throat.
Le Sèvre’s face remained unemotional. “Know about what?”
“This,” Lisette said as she waved the invitation in the air. Keep breathing, she thought. She could feel her fingernails dig into the inside of her hands, her fists were clenched so tightly.
“Lisette, I am a very busy man, I can look at whatever you have when I get home.” He dismissed her and then beckoned his other assistant. “Frédéric, I don’t see the sapphire necklace on this inventory. Where is it?” His back was now to Lisette. She noticed a distinct look of distress on Frédéric’s face. He was scared of Le Sèvre.
Lisette cleared her throat loudly. “It is from the Duc and Duchesse de Chartres.”
Immediately, Le Sèvre whipped around to face her. “Give me that.” He swiped the invitation out of Lisette’s hand.
She stood motionless while she watched him break the seal and read it. Some broth from lunch came into her mouth and she tried not to gag. Lisette swallowed hard.
For the first time since they had been talking, Le Sèvre’s face registered emotion. He scowled. “But it says here that you are to attend. That must be a mistake.” Le Sèvre drew the invitation closer to his face. “Let me read this again,” he said.
“Even so, do you want to take the chance that you offend the Duchesse de Chartres? When will you have the opportunity to visit her house again?”
Le Sèvre set down the invitation. The scowl disappeared. He now appeared to be scheming. Lisette had seen that expression on his face many times before.
Lisette wondered if he was thinking about the jewels that he would steal from the Duchesse’s house.
“Leave,” he said curtly.
She nodded her head and turned toward the door. Lisette didn’t want to utter another word to him.
She walked out and quickly made her way to the street corner. She turned the corner and stopped. Leaning against a building, Lisette tried to catch her breath. She took several deep breaths in and out. She repeated the deep breathing until she felt calm again. Lisette stood up straight and then hailed a fiacre.
I can do this. This will work, she told herself.
Chapter Thirty-Four
November 13, 1774
The next day dragged on interminably. The hours had ticked away more slowly than Lisette had ever experienced. The supper at the Palais-Royal was to begin at nine in the evening. By the early afternoon, Lisette was dressed and ready to leave. Now, sitting in the carriage with her mother, she realized the next few hours would determine the rest of her life.
Although they lived directly across from the Palais-Royal and could walk, Le Sèvre had wanted to arrive in a carriage. He insisted it was more respectable. Lisette and her mother were to pick up Le Sèvre at his store just before the supper began. They would all ride in the carriage together to the Palais-Royal.
As they sat in the carriage waiting for Le Sèvre to come out of his jewelry shop, Lisette noticed how sad her mother appeared.
“Lisette, you look lovely this evening,” Jeanne said. Her mother was on the brink of tears.
“What is wrong, Mother?” Lisette asked her.
“I’m afraid this will be the last time I will see you look so becoming…dressed in a fine silk gown with matching slipp
ers,” Jeanne said. Her voice trailed off as she spoke. Lisette saw tears filling her eyes.
She wanted to tell her mother that if everything went according to plan, they would have many more evenings together. It was Le Sèvre’s evenings that were numbered. Instead, she took her mother’s hand and squeezed it. Lisette noticed that Jeanne wore her long gloves. She must have new bruises, Lisette thought.
“I love you very much, Mother,” said Lisette.
Her mother patted her eyes with her handkerchief.
Lisette released her mother’s hand and the carriage door opened.
Le Sèvre stepped inside and sat beside Jeanne. “Driver, to the Palais-Royal,” he said gruffly. Le Sèvre said nothing to either of them. As they started moving, he looked out of the side of the carriage.
Lisette turned her head too. She wanted to avoid looking at Le Sèvre. Exhausted, Lisette closed her eyes. The previous night had been a restless one. She had met with Madame Gervais one final time to go over the details of the plan. Once Lisette had returned home and was in bed, she went over the plan in her mind repeatedly. For her and her mother’s sake, she couldn’t afford any missteps. Lisette couldn’t bear any harm coming to her mother. She pushed away thoughts of failure. It will work, Lisette reassured herself.
She felt certain that after tonight, Le Sèvre would no longer have control over her life or her mother’s. Lisette fretted that her mother might not agree with her actions, but she hoped that Jeanne would eventually accept that they were both better off without Le Sèvre.
“François, you seem pensive this evening. Are you well?” Jeanne asked Le Sèvre.
He was still staring out of the side of the carriage. Without turning to look at Jeanne he replied, “Yes, of course.”
Lisette knew that Le Sèvre was thinking about the heist that he had planned with Madame Gervais for that evening.
Becoming Lisette: A Novel (The Queen's Painter an Historical Romance Book 1) Page 28
