Chapter Text
As her days at the Miedema home passed into weeks, Viv's time painting interspersed with conversation and laughter, Lisa only became more sure of her feelings. Every time she looked at the Dutch woman, she felt her heart speed up in her chest, pounding so hard that she was surprised Jill couldn't hear it downstairs.
Viv, it turned out, had a sardonic sense of humor which made Lisa laugh so hard that she almost tore the tight lacing at the front of her dress. The culprit had helped her up from the floor, shaking her head with a smile and causing Lisa's hand to tremble and her cheeks to blaze as their skin met.
One day, while Viv was waiting for one layer of paint to dry, she took Lisa outside and they sat on a bench beside one of the main canals, Vivianne telling her about the passing boats and who was in them, from the richest man in Amsterdam to a matron with a wart on her nose whose portrait had been one of her first.
"I didn't know if she wanted me to paint it or not," laughed Viv, when the woman had passed a safe distance away. "Some like it realistic, but some want all their flaws covered!"
Lisa laughed along, taking a bite of the pastry that she had bought for the two of them to share. Viv put the other half in her mouth, only to spit crumbs all over the walk with laughter as Lisa launched into an impression of one a tutor she'd had in her early girlhood.
"... he looked at us and said, 'Lady Evans, Miss Mitchell, your fathers will hear about this!' Now, I don't know if he actually told Papa, because I was too busy looking at the vein about to pop out of his neck as he blathered about how he used to tutor the children at Queen Elizabeth's court, and how they never behaved like this!"
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," said Lisa's father each evening after they finished their meals and social events. "I'll have to ask this woman how she's gotten my Lisa to sit still long enough to paint more than a blur! And to actually look forward to it!"
Lisa made a rude gesture under the table at Danielle as the Dutch girl grinned knowingly.
Beth had taken to spending nights in Danielle's room, leaving Lisa to her own devices and her mind free to wander back to Vivianne. Each night she would fall asleep with a soft smile on her face in anticipation of the following day, when she would return to see the painter, firmly pushing the inevitable reason for the portrait from her mind.
As for Viv, she had taken to waking earlier and earlier, lingering by the door and listening for the familiar wheels which announced Lisa's arrival each day. Her casual drawings had shifted, now consumed with long dark hair and a bright smile. Sometimes she would sketch flowers into Lisa's hair, smiling to herself and tracing her hand across the drawings with a bittersweet feeling in her chest, knowing that only in her wildest dreams would she ever be able to be with the beautiful noblewoman in the way which consumed her thoughts.
And so the days passed.
Stretching out after over an hour in one position, Lisa stepped across the room towards where Vivianne sat. The Dutch woman was still hunched over her sketch, writing in little notes. Peeking over her shoulder, Lisa opened her mouth to compliment Viv on the excellent sketch, which would form the basis for the portrait. There she was, in the exact style and dress her father had wanted. None of her facial features had really taken shape yet, but she could tell that it would be beautiful.
Skimming the notes, however, Lisa saw something which struck her as a bit odd- of all the portraits she had seen in the Van de Donk home, as well as the other merchants' homes she had visited, had a dark background, with the only source of light being a dim window here or a shadow there. However, Viv had written in a very clear note on the background, in thin, delicate handwriting.
Background: light.
"So," said Viv shyly, having noticed Lisa perusing her work. "Do you like... I mean, does this meet with your satisfaction, Lisa?"
Lisa nodded slowly, still curious about the note.
"Of course," she said. "It's absolutely gorgeous, Vivianne. But... I... Don't you usually paint the backgrounds darker? Like in Danielle's portrait?"
Suddenly, Viv slammed her sketch down, eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion as she looked at Lisa.
"I won't paint you in the dark," she cried. Then, without so much as a word more, she disappeared through the door to her bedroom, shutting it behind her.
Jill was a bit lost for what to do when Lady Evans came down the stairs, furiously trying to wipe away the tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. She'd heard a door slam, and then the footsteps, and now she had a crying foreign noblewoman in the kitchen with her while she tried to bake.
"Lady Evans... What... What's happened? Is everything alright?"
Lisa sniffled, wiping her eyes.
"I... I don't know what I did wrong! All I did was ask why she was painting a different background on my portrait than she's done for others!"
Jill clicked her tongue, putting her hand on her guest's shoulder.
"Vivianne... She's always been hard to decipher if you don't know her. But Lady Evans, I've known her for years now, and I can tell you that I've never seen her act this way. There's something about you that's different for her than anyone she's painted before."
Lisa put her head in her hands, still sniffling, Jill's words penetrating into her brain. She had no idea how Jill meant that, but a little bud of hope was beginning to blossom inside her heart. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that Vivianne could feel something for her.
It was only after she heard the distinctive sound of her front door shutting that Viv picked her head up from her pillow, trying and failing to brush the tears away from her eyes.
Now you've done it, she thought to herself. Now you've ruined everything.
Lady Evans' portrait was supposed to be the one which made her career, and now it was likely as not to be the one that ruined it, because she had no idea how she would manage to see Lisa again without inadvertently releasing everything inside of her.
She would use what sketches she had to finish it, and then she would be done with it. It would be gone from her house, be sent to some Lord or another so that he could examine his future bride like an object at the market. He would see Lisa with light surrounding her, the light which filled the Scottish woman's being and swelled over to surround those around her. She could only hope that whichever rich man was lucky enough to be Lisa's husband would see her as Vivianne saw her, because she couldn't bear the thought of endlessly bright Lisa ending up in a marriage which would take any of the sparkle from her eyes, which would dim her smile by even a single degree.
She ignored the tapping on her door which could only be Jill checking on her, renewed tears springing into her eyes as she buried her head in her hands and cried.
No note came from the painter the next day. Nor the day after that, or for several days afterward. On the seventh day, Lisa found herself with Beth and Danielle on either side of her, their arms linked in hers as they tried to make her feel better.
"Come on," said Danielle, guiding the party forward quickly, much to the annoyance of the retinue that her father had insisted on sending along. "You'll love it, Lisa! Normally I don't go to market, but a new shipment just came in from Italy, and Papa said we could each pick something out!"
Beth's eyes widened in excitement, but Lisa couldn't bring herself to share her friends' enthusiasm. While the idea of treasures from abroad did sound wonderful, she couldn't help but linger on the lack of contact from Vivianne. She vacillated between being sad and angry about it, sometimes resolved to hide under the bed and cry and sometimes wanting to march down there herself, pound on the door and demand an explanation.
"Lisa. Lisa, are you listening?"
"Huh?"
Daan rolled her eyes- she'd thought as much.
"I said," she repeated. "Stick to me. There's always pickpockets about on market day, and they won't hesitate to pinch a fancy lady's coins."
"Speaking from experience, eh?"
Daan flushed, shooting Beth a glare.
"Shut up."
This, at least, drew a laugh from the unusually morose Lisa as she resolved to at least try to enjoy the market and not think about the painter who had started to occupy almost her every thought. She was glad she had taken Daan's advice and wore one of her less-expensive dresses as she gave up trying to pick around the mud puddles. The merchandise spread out across the market square was truly awe-inspiring, and Lisa couldn't help but be distracted from her romantic woes as she surveyed everything on offer.
There were fabrics which she was sure her father would have loved to have for her dresses, toys to please even the pickiest of the city's wealthy children, books from every corner of the continent, and more food than she was sure she could ever eat in her life.
She purchased a small toy lion from one vendor, thanking him in shaky Dutch and tucking the trinket in her pocket with a pang of homesickness. Just yesterday, news had come from Scotland that Emma was pregnant, and Lisa had found herself longing for her best friend more than ever. But, hopefully Emma's little one would appreciate the toy when they were old enough to play with it, and would know that Lisa loved them and their Mama, from wherever she was.
Following Daan closely, Lisa wound up at a stall selling ornate jewelry, letting her eyes widen in awe at the intricate goldwork framed by sparkling jewels from all corners of the globe. The Dutch girl spoke a few words to the merchant that Lisa couldn't understand and he nodded, picking up a beautiful pendant on a gold chain with an image of a rose in the center. Eyes plaintive, Daan pressed the piece into Beth's palm, causing the English girl's mouth to drop open, gazing at the other with such emotion that Lisa could tell it was taking everything in her not to pull Daan into her arms and kiss her right there in the market.
Feeling as if she was intruding on a private moment, no matter the public setting, Lisa turned her head aside to survey the other booths and her breath caught in her throat.
Only a few meters away, at a booth advertising paints and brushes, her eyes locked on a familiar lanky figure, talking to the merchant in a low voice. Forgetting everything Daan had said about staying close, forgetting about the posse which accompanied her group, Lisa stomped through the crowd towards Vivianne, eyes narrowing and shout building in her throat.
"Vivianne Miedema!"
The painter turned at the sound of her name, eyes widening in panic as she saw Lisa storming towards her. Looking back and forth quickly, she realized that she had lost Lars somehow, and there was no one to save her from the Scottish woman's wrath.
There was still anger in Lisa's steps as she reached Viv, but the moment she saw how big the painter's eyes were, the way she was biting her lip nervously, she felt it fading out of her, replaced with a desire to pull the taller woman into her arms and take away every negative emotion that had ever been there.
"Lady Evans," whispered Viv, inclining her head in deference. "I... It's lovely to see you."
A little bit of the fire that Lisa had approached with returned, her eyes narrowing to glare at Viv.
"Oh, it's lovely to see me? Is that why I haven't heard from you for the past week?"
"M'lady, I... I thought... I didn't need..."
She was struggling for words, trying to find a way to explain herself which didn't involve either collapsing into a heap on the pavement or pulling Lisa into her body and kissing her until neither of them could breathe.
Lisa's two companions had noticed the commotion by now and were picking their way through towards them, identical looks of concern on their faces.
"I just..."
Lisa's voice was softer now, smaller as she tried to meet Viv's teary eyes.
"I was just wondering if I... if I offended you, Miss Miedema. I apologize, I just..."
"Lady Evans," said Viv, choked up, trying to compose herself before too many more people noticed what was going on. "Will you walk with me?"
They went back to Vivianne's house, with Jill and the painter's brother choosing smartly to stay at the market to give the other two the ability to speak privately.
It was thankfully a short walk, one which passed silently and awkwardly, Lisa stewing and Viv fretting, until the door shut behind them.
"Lisa," whispered Viv, voice trembling. "I'm so sorry for ignoring you. You have every right to be angry at me."
Lisa looked as if she was about to speak, but Viv held up a hand, pleading silently for her to wait a moment.
"I... I need to say this, Lisa. Please, let me finish. And if you hate me when I'm done, you can walk away. You can leave now and never come back, tell your father everything and ruin me. Just please let me finish."
Lisa nodded, swallowing around the lump in her throat. Vivianne closed her eyes, steeled her herself, sent a quick prayer for courage, and began.
"I'm sorry I shouted at you," she said. "I shouldn't have. But I couldn't paint you in the dark, Lisa, I couldn't do it! It might be the style, but I just couldn't stand the thought of you in the dark. Because you are a light, Lisa. I've only known you for a month, but you are the most amazing person I've ever met, and the idea that someone is going to look at you in that portrait and see anything less than that is just... I can't bear it."
She was almost rambling now, voice becoming increasingly desperate as tears sprang to her eyes.
"Lisa, I... I didn't send for you because I didn't trust myself not to ruin my own life over you. The thought of seeing you again... Oh, God, Lisa, it was the most exciting and terrifying thing, and I knew that I'd slip. But it doesn't matter now, because if I don't tell you then I won't be able to sleep at night. I'm in love with you, Lady Evans."
The last sentence was whispered, and Viv only realized once she stopped speaking that she was trembling with emotion and fear. The silence grew, with Viv not daring to look at Lisa for fear of the horror she might find in the Scottish noble's eyes. She couldn't breathe, waiting like a condemned criminal for Lisa Evans to deliver her fate.
And then, all of a sudden, there was a body on hers, soft lips pressing against her own. She barely registered that Lisa was crying too, kissing her passionately over and over and over again, her soft palms on Viv's cheeks.
"I love you too," she half-cried, half-whispered. "I love you too, Vivianne!"
The feeling of Lisa in her arms as they kissed was better than Viv could have ever imagined- it was every forbidden, beautiful dream that she'd ever had come to life, as if Lisa folded into her, completing her. When their lips parted, and their eyes met, the only thing that existed in the painter's world was her Lady, looking at her as if she had painted the stars in the sky, brought the world to life with a stroke of her brush.
"Viv," whispered Lisa, clinging to her. "Take me upstairs."