‘Oh, I do,’ Jeanette said, playing with a small silver pendant around her throat. ‘As someone who spent the first thirty years of her life trying to get the male-dominated departments of scholarly institutions to take me seriously, I can’t even imagine how a woman like Catharina van Shurman – lacking precedent, with only her father and brother to support her application – even summoned the audacity to set foot into Leiden University, let alone attend classes there. I had no male allies – is that what you call them? – back when I was an undergraduate. It was cut-throat. Men would try to get you to sleep with them just to put you off your lectures the next day.’

I cleared my throat and she laughed.

‘Look, their methods might have changed these days, but the goal hasn’t: stay in your lane. That’s what a lot of them would like us to do. Not all, of course. But if it wasn’t for women like Catharina, it might have taken even longer for women to gain personal independence. That’s why it’s important to me to stage exhibitions like “The Birth of the Art Market”. People like Catharina might have been celebrated during their lifetime, but they’re largely unknown by the public now. I want to lift her achievements, ensure she becomes a household name.’

She led me to a gilt-framed oil painting of a pretty, three-storey brick mansion set on a riverbank surrounded by tall trees and green hedges.

‘This is Sterrenwijck, a property outside The Hague where Catharina lived with her brother. They had a large staff when their parents were alive, but this was slowly reduced as the years wore on. Eventually it was whittled down to one housekeeper, her husband and a kitchen maid. Oh and there was a lady’s companion, too. The one you mentioned, Anna Tesseltje. But she lived there less than a year and became more like part of the family, by all accounts, so I don’t know if she can be classified as “staff”.’

‘I read she modelled for a painting Catharina started in 1652.’

‘Yes. The Marriage.’ Jeanette pointed at a large canvas hanging on the opposite wall. ‘It was meant to be a wedding portrait. A man named Maarten Horst commissioned it for his new bride. He was an officer with the VOC. We have a copy of his signed contract in fact. It was customary for art dealers to issue legally binding work agreements, just like it is now, but for some reason this portrait remained unfinished. It’s different to Catharina’s other pieces. She was a fast painter, but she liked to work in a very deliberate manner. She approached each portrait commission as a real challenge even though she found the work quite unfulfilling – a means to a financial end.