‘That is a worthy sentiment,’ Catharina says. Anna can tell she is impatient to begin the sitting; she has probably missed half of what Blanche said, too busy devising how she can extract the location of Griet’s imprisonment from Maarten’s silent lips. ‘Everything is ready for you,’ she says. ‘Miss Tesseltje has been preparing canvases for days now and the portrait studio has been cleaned and dusted within an inch of its life. As we discussed, I’ll paint you standing, Madam, by your husband’s side. If you’ll follow Miss Tesseltje, I’ll meet you there in a matter of moments.’

Anna beckons them forward, glad Catharina omitted any reference to the first botched canvases. She hears Blanche take a step behind her, then falter. Looking back, she sees that Maarten hasn’t moved. He holds himself stiffly and there is a sour expression on his face that even Catharina, buoyed by high spirits about Griet, cannot fail to misinterpret.

‘Is something wrong?’ she says.

‘I’ve changed my mind. I would prefer you to paint us in the library. I remember the way – it’s down that corridor and to the left. I remember hiding in the window seat when I was a child, waiting for your brother to come and find me.’

Catharina frowns. ‘Father’s library? But it’s been shut up for years. And there’s no fire in there. It would be most unsuitable, sir. Better you come to the studio where it’s warm. I would hate Madam Horst’s cold to return due to any neglect on my part.’

Maarten’s jaw tenses. ‘I insist,’ he says. ‘The library is the grandest room in the house. I do not want this to be like any other portrait you’ve painted before. I’m not paying you to create yet another version of something already hanging in a dozen other houses.’

Catharina’s cheeks colour. She flicks an anxious look at Anna who bites her lip hard, grounding down on the soft flesh with her teeth. This meeting must go smoothly, she thinks. If they offend him, Maarten will surely withhold any knowledge he possesses. It crosses Anna’s mind that he could be bluffing, pretending to know more than he really does. But Catharina is not willing to take the chance. Anna watches her struggle with her own pride. It is clearly an effort. At last, she summons a strained smile.

‘Of course,’ she says. ‘It’s for you, the patron, to say. I will ask Mrs Hartog to prepare the library now and have it cleaned. Anna, you help her. Go on, now. I will light the fire in there myself. I’ve done it before…’

She crosses to the firebox to scoop up an armful of fresh kindling and Anna catches Maarten’s quick, triumphant smile.