‘Good evening, Maarten,’ he mutters, making the smallest of bows which Maarten doesn’t return.

‘You’ve met our new hireling,’ Crispijn says, nodding at Anna. ‘We’re grateful to God for sending Miss Tesseltje to us.’

Although Maarten’s gaze remains fixed on Catharina, he addresses the whole room. ‘Yes, we’ve met. I’ve just finished thanking her for her assistance with Blanche. She was having a choking fit. If Miss Tesseltje hadn’t come along, I fear my new wife might have suffered a terrible fate.’

‘Your wife?’ Catharina asks.

Seeming to remember herself, Blanche stumbles forward and sinks into a deep curtsey. Catharina stares down at her, eyebrows raised before folding her arms, looking scornful. ‘When I saw you earlier, I assumed she was your niece. Nobody here would marry you so you cast your net wider, did you? Where did you find her? In England? Did you pick her up in one of those infamous parliamentarian fire sales, along with a glut of the King’s paintings?’

‘I’m an officer now, Madam,’ Maarten says, stiffly. ‘And my wife is a Lady, the daughter of a former Earl. You might show us some respect. The Governor has chosen me for a special assignment. I’m to manage his estate in Sumatra. It’s a large plantation house, requiring good, hard-working staff as well as decoration. That’s why I’m here. I was tasked with securing a wealth of artworks and furnishings from the estate sales of exiled nobles. I have the furnishings. Now I need only secure the staff and I can return.’

‘And you thought you’d procure a wife along the way, I see,’ Catharina says. ‘Like a piece of silverware.’

‘Perhaps I should have asked for your advice,’ Maarten counters coldly. ‘Two lady’s companions in quick succession. Let’s pray you can keep this one a little longer than you managed to hold onto Margriet.’

Catharina’s face drains of colour. Sensing her distress, Crispijn interrupts.

‘This has gone far enough,’ he says, briskly. ‘Maarten, we offer you our most hearty congratulations on the occasion of your marriage. You will have to excuse us. My sister is tired and she has many commissions to fulfil over the coming months.’

Maarten pins Blanche to his side, his fingers pressed into her waist, and Anna shudders, thinking of the bruises under the cloth. ‘I’d like to speak to you about a commission of my own. I’d like a painting. A marriage portrait. It will need to be completed before we leave, although I’m sure you can manage, Madam, now you’ve found a reason to renew your creative spirit. We could arrange for the sitting to be done at the Governor’s chambers in Middleburg. I understand Margriet’s family still live there. They’ve recently returned from their own tour of Antwerp and Ghent. Perhaps they could suggest someone to act as intermediary. A relative, perhaps?’