The Golden Tulip (72 page)

“I’ve solved the puzzle!” she cried out.

“Not here!” he said warningly, putting an arm around her to bundle her swiftly out of the headquarters and the hearing of the two guards. In the street he pulled her with him into a doorway. “Now tell me. Where is the mouse?”

“There and yet not there! What I thought originally to be a shadow where the standard-bearer’s cloak touches the floor is, in reality, a mousehole. And one of those threadlike gleams of light is the mouse’s tail as it escapes out of sight! Just as I have escaped!”

He gripped her by the arm. “Do you mean that?” he demanded.

“With all my heart! Don’t make me go back to the van Jansz house! Let me come away with you!”

“Do you realize what you are saying?”

“I do!”

“You’d be leaving your family and everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“Stop treating me as if I hadn’t discovered that I love you above all else in the world!” she cried shamelessly.

His voice grew warm and tender. “That’s what I’ve wanted to hear you say for so long. I love you so much.”

They kissed, locked together, and snowflakes began drifting around them. After he had picked up her lantern, which she had dropped onto the snow for their embrace, he handed it back to her and collected a bundle of his belongings from where he had left it, slinging the strap that bound it over his shoulder. With his arm around her, he hurried her away with him through the falling snow as if pursuit were already on their trail.

F
RANCESCA, KEEPING HER
promise to go early to the van Jansz house, was waiting in the reception hall of her home for the sleigh, which Sybylla had said would come for her at nine o’clock. Francesca was in her finery for the day, her gown of tawny velvet and her hat dove gray with a golden plume. She was adjusting the brim in front of the Venetian mirror when she heard the sleigh draw up outside and a great hammering came on the door. She opened it and a wave of anxiety swept over her as she saw a stark-faced Adriaen, and not a van Jansz servant, at the stoop.

“What’s happened?” she gasped, pressing a hand against her chest.

“I must see Sybylla!” he demanded, striding in. “I didn’t realize how much it meant to her to be married from her childhood home!”

“Sybylla isn’t here.”

“She must be. Her bed in my parents’ house has been slept in and so she could only have returned here at dawn.”

“I’ll go up to her room!” Francesca turned for the stairs, hoping that she would not find the bedchamber door locked and Sybylla too upset to open it. Yesterday her mood had been very strange, almost on the knife edge of hysteria, but she had become calmer by the time they had parted. Had something happened in the afternoon to cause her some unexpected distress?

To Francesca’s relief the door gave at her touch, not even being closed. Then she stared in dismay at the state of the room. Clothes had been tumbled from drawers and chests. A stocking trailed across the floor and a glove dangled from a chair. Propped against the opened trinket box was a folded piece of paper. She saw it was addressed to herself. Full of dread, she read it.

I am running away with the man I really love. Break the news as gently as you can to Adriaen and say I regret hurting him. The same applies to Father. Tell him there was nothing I could do after all to save you from Ludolf. It will be up to Pieter now. Do not worry about me. I am happier than I have ever been in my life before. Your loving sister, Sybylla.

Francesca read it through a second time. At some hour in the night Sybylla, even if she had first slept for a while in her bed at the van Jansz house, must have crept in here, knowing where a spare key was always hidden, collected a few belongings and left again as stealthily as she had come. Who had been waiting for her? With a heavy sigh, Francesca folded the note and concealed it in the palm of her hand. The reference to Pieter could not be disclosed to anyone other than Hendrick.

When she came downstairs again Hendrick was talking solemnly with Adriaen and they both looked at her anxiously, her serious expression telling them instantly that something was very wrong.

“There will be no marriage today, Adriaen,” she said with compassion.

He stepped forward. “Why? Is she ill?”

“She’s not here.”

“But to whom else would she have gone?” He was bewildered, but irritated too.

Francesca moved to her father’s side. Already his eyes showed fear, as if he knew that what she was about to say would strike him to the heart. “Sybylla left a note for me. She has gone away. I don’t know with whom. You are both better able to answer that question than I, who have been away from Amsterdam since the spring.” Her sympathetic gaze settled on the jilted young man. “Sybylla is deeply sorry to cause you unhappiness, Adriaen, but she wrote that she is with the man she really loves.”

His lids narrowed in disbelief and he drew in a long breath. Then he reacted with thin-lipped, blazing-eyed fury. “The little whore!”

Hendrick gave a roar. “How dare you speak of my youngest daughter in such a manner!”

Adriaen regarded him with wrathful contempt. “You penniless oaf! You seem to have forgotten to whom you are speaking. I thought Sybylla had eyes for me only, but I was wrong. I don’t know and neither do I care whom she has left me for. You may keep her whenever she should return. I want no more of her!”

He slammed his way out of the house. In the dreadful silence that followed Hendrick turned to Francesca and rested his hands on her shoulders. “It must be Hans Roemer whom she’s gone away with. I can think of nobody else and he was leaving Amsterdam today. She was always talking about him and going over to the church to keep track of the painting’s progress.”

“Oh, Father, you should have taken more care of her during the time of her betrothal!”

“I just presumed she was anxious that the painting should be finished as soon as possible, so I might receive payment for it before her wedding day. I never supposed for one moment there was anything serious in it.”

Francesca sighed deeply. “Well, there was, but at least she hasn’t gone thoughtlessly.” She revealed the note and gave it to him to read. “I’d like you to explain what Sybylla meant about not being able to help me after all.”

He told her. She almost shook her head at the foolishness of her father and her sister in supposing that Ludolf would agree to being paid in installments, but there was no point in bringing that up now.

“It was well meant,” he concluded.

“I know it was and I appreciate her consideration. Have you any idea where Hans might be taking her?”

“No. All he said was that he had gained a commission that would mean leaving the city.”

Francesca felt slightly relieved. “At least he has work, which means they won’t starve. But we must try to find them!”

“How? They left here before dawn and could be anywhere by now. Do you think I wouldn’t be out searching for them already if there was the slightest chance of discovering their whereabouts?”

“I shall let Pieter know. I’ll ask him to watch out for them.”

Hendrick shrugged as if he had no hope at all and he wandered over to the small portrait of Anna, which had hung there for as long as Francesca could remember. “What would your mama have said, Francesca,” he said, weary with sadness, “if she had known I was to lose two of her daughters?”

“Neither of them is lost! Your estrangement with Aletta can be healed and Sybylla will return one day.”

He deliberately ignored her mention of Aletta. “I’m afraid for Sybylla. She is such a child in so many ways.”

Francesca spoke musingly. “I don’t think she is any longer. I believe that in going away with Hans she made the first adult decision of her life.”

It was not more than an hour later when the van Jansz lawyer called. Hendrick summoned Francesca into the room to hear what was said, for they had already discussed the possibility of a demand for financial compensation by Adriaen’s father for Sybylla’s breaking of the betrothal contract. Whether it should be high or low it could only add to the morass of Hendrick’s financial state.

“Now, Master Visser,” the lawyer began, “whom have you told about this unfortunate affair?”

“Nobody outside the household,” Hendrick replied sourly, resentful already of what he feared was to come.

“Good. It will be to your advantage if you agree to keep it that way. Heer van Jansz is most anxious that his son’s name should not become subject to scandal and gossip through being jilted by your daughter. For that reason he is prepared to waive any claim to compensation if you will endorse his proposed announcement that the marriage previously arranged between the two young people has been dissolved by mutual consent.”

Hendrick’s expression had cleared. No compensation! “I’m in agreement with that. I wish to protect my daughter’s good name as much as Heer van Jansz wishes to guard his son’s.”

Francesca spoke up. “There is one condition that must be included.”

“What is that?” the lawyer questioned.

Hendrick also looked at her inquiringly. “Yes, what do you have in mind?”

“It is that no retribution will be made against the man, who is presently nameless, with whom my sister has made her departure.”

The lawyer played the feather tip of his quill across his fingers. “I’m authorized by Heer van Jansz to agree to any reasonable request and I have no objection if it should be your wish, Master Visser.”

“It is,” Hendrick replied. He liked Hans and the lad could paint. It would be terrible to let those talented fingers be broken in torture screws, for there was no telling to what extremes Heer van Jansz and his son might go in a desire for vengeance should Hans be caught.

The lawyer added the amendment to the papers in front of him and when all were signed he departed.

It was a Christmas torn by personal distress in the Visser home. The faint hope cherished secretly and individually by those under its roof was that Sybylla would make a surprise return on Christmas Day, but that did not happen. There was no reason why it should have, for the runaway couple would not know they were not being hunted or that Hans had been spared any punishment for abducting her. Francesca’s most desperate fear was that they would sail to one of the colonies and then there was little likelihood of ever seeing Sybylla again. Hendrick had gone to Hans’s former lodgings but gained no clue, for nobody knew where he had gone.

She could see that deep melancholia was fast settling on her father again. At a carefully chosen moment she had put the suggestion to him that they should flee to Florence together.

“If war with France should come we would be going without Pieter, because I know that nothing could make him leave Holland until the invaders are driven out and neither would I expect it of him.”

Momentarily Hendrick was speechless as he took in what had been said. Then he spoke slowly. “Leave Amsterdam? Is such a drastic move really necessary?” He moved to his chair and sat staring into the fire. “Yes, I see now it is inevitable. I can neither condemn you to life with that vile man nor face the horrors of prison myself. Leave me now while I consider all that must be done.”

Knowing that Maria would neither wish nor be able to make the long journey to Italy, Francesca had assumed that their old nurse would live happily at Sybylla’s new home, where she would have been well cared for. Since circumstances had changed and that could no longer happen, it was fortunate that Aletta could take Maria in, for all three sisters loved the old woman even if, in spite of those constant quarrels, Sybylla had always been her favorite. But when Francesca put the whole case to Maria an entirely different decision was reached by the old woman herself and she would not budge from it.

“I thank God you are to be free of Heer van Deventer,” she said to Francesca. “It has caused me more worry than you could ever know. But I’ll not go to Delft or anywhere else. There’s a comfortable almshouse for elderly women just along the street that will suit me well and I have three old friends there already. I want to be near at hand, because one day Sybylla will return and she’ll want one of her own to welcome her.”

“Oh, dearest Maria,” Francesca exclaimed brokenly, kissing the wrinkled cheek, “don’t you realize that she may never come back?”

“I know.” Maria’s voice quavered and she wiped an eye. “But I have to stay anyway.”

Francesca’s time at home was made even more harassing by Ludolf’s constant visits. He treated the house as his own, sitting down at table without being invited, ordering Griet about and eventually swearing at Maria when she plodded into any room to act as chaperone every time he and Francesca were alone.

“Is this prearranged?” he snapped at Francesca, jerking a thumb in Maria’s direction, where she sat solidly with her hands folded, watching them.

“It is. You have no right to expect me to be without chaperonage in my own home, or anywhere else.”

Francesca noticed how his veneer was cracking. His impatience was raw. When he insisted it was time for her to wear his betrothal ring he held her hand and forced it on her finger, ignoring Maria’s shriek of protest when the kiss he rammed down on Francesca’s mouth went far beyond the approved limit. He no longer made any pretence of courtesy toward Hendrick and compelled him to agree to a marriage date for Francesca on the day after the appointment fixed for her appearance before the Guild.

“I’ll not have time to get home from Delft!” she protested, alarmed at having no leeway of a week or two in which to leave for Italy.

Ludolf dismissed her protest with a snap of his fingers. “We’ll marry there. I’ll bring your father with me from Amsterdam.”

Afterward she asked Hendrick why he had not thought to postpone the marriage by a few days at least. “I didn’t think,” he admitted miserably. “I’ve too much on my mind.”

Because of Ludolf’s continual presence Francesca could not spend any daylight hours with Pieter, even though he had come specially to Amsterdam to see her. The only time that proved safe was at midnight in her home, when they would be together by the fire in the parlor, content and loving, able to discuss many things, including a detailed plan to get her and Hendrick away from Delft immediately after her interview with the Guild. It had to be timed to the minute or else it would fail. Once the chance was gone there would be nothing to stop Ludolf summoning the law to his aid if he so wished, forcing Francesca into marriage. She shuddered with apprehension, but Pieter kissed her fears away.