‘Maarten.’ Catharina has gone rigid. She sets down her stele and stands up, glaring. ‘I thought our business was concluded. I’m surprised you’re still here.’

Maarten wears an angry expression. ‘We were due to leave last week, but the Governor has some last-minute assignments for me. And we had some unfinished business in town. Didn’t we, Blanche?’ He glances behind him and Anna sees the pale English girl hiding in the shadows of the hall. At his rough summons, she sidles into the room, shooting Anna an apologetic look. There is a fresh bruise on her cheek, the colour of a ripe plum.

Maarten folds his arms. ‘Since we were in the neighbourhood, I thought I would stop and ask for my painting.’

‘It doesn’t belong to you,’ Catharina says, her tone frosty. ‘You haven’t paid for it.’

Maarten’s cheeks turn red. ‘I have paid for it a hundred times over, the amount of trouble you’ve given me and my kin. I demand it back. I will hang it in my new residence.’

‘You can’t. It’s not finished.’

‘Then I will find someone to finish it for me,’ he says, his gaze roving around the room. ‘Which is it?’

‘I’ve painted over it,’ Catharina lies. ‘Haven’t I, Anna?’

Anna hesitates, but at a look from her mistress, she nods slowly. ‘Yes, Madam.’

Maarten explodes. ‘How dare you?’ he says. ‘I will have you blacklisted from every good family in the Republic.’

‘Go ahead,’ Catharina says. ‘If they are friends with you, then they are far from good citizens.’

Maarten glares at her before stalking out. Anna hears him a moment later in the hall, abusing Henrick and demanding he fetch their carriage. Catharina follows to save Henrick from the vile tide of Maarten’s tongue and Blanche stays by Anna’s side, wringing her hands.

‘I didn’t want to come,’ she said, ‘but he made me. And I wanted to warn you. He is in a foul mood.’ Her gaze drops to the floor. ‘I lost the baby,’ she says, her voice breaking. She touches her cheek. ‘Maarten says it is my fault. Now I am even more afraid of travelling to a distant country. Will you not reconsider coming with us?’

Anna thinks of Crispijn. She wishes she could tell Blanche about their secret union, but it isn’t possible so she shakes her head.

‘I must stay,’ she says.