"You know, Father," she said from the rostrum, "I think it's time you gave me an interesting painting to look at on the wall whenever I pose for you."

"What do you want?"

"Rembrandt's portrait of t.i.tus."

"We'll see," he replied, intent on his work.

His reply showed he had no intention of moving the painting from where it had hung for so many years. She decided to solve the matter for herself, knowing that he would expect her to sit for him many times yet before this war was over. Common sense told her that people in Amsterdam would have no money to spare for luxuries such as paintings until peace was restored. Hendrick would not be able to afford professional models.

"I'll paint my own picture to hang there as soon as my wrist is healed," she announced. "I'll paint Pieter, my tulip grower, on the morning when I saw him standing amid those acres of blooms. It's all in my mind's eye-the sunshine, the slight movement of the tulips in a gentle breeze, the workers bending as they collect the petaled cups into baskets, and then myself in the foreground."

The only sound in the studio was the quiet slap of Hendrick's brush against the canvas, a comfortable and familiar sound. Francesca forgot that the last time she had posed for him it had been for the painting of Flora, purchased calamitously by Ludolf. That was in the past. For Pieter's sake her thoughts dwelt on the future in the hope that the picture she was planning would one day become a reality. Then once more would he come to her through an ocean of tulips.

Epilogue.

FRANCESCA WAS PAINTING IN HER STUDIO AT HAARLEM HUIS ON the January day in 1689 when the Prince of Orange left Holland to become William III of England and reign jointly with his English wife, Mary. He was not leaving the rulership of his own country behind and Francesca was pleased that those ties would remain. He and his people had come through many trials and tribulations since that February day when he had taken command seventeen years before.

It had been a hard war for all, bringing starvation and tragedy and bankruptcy to many. She herself had known hunger and cold when Amsterdam was marooned by water. She had never forgotten what it was like and these days whoever came hungry to her door was given food and money. Amsterdam had been besieged for very nearly two years, but even then over three more terrible years of conflict pa.s.sed before Louis XIV finally withdrew his armies with nothing gained, leaving Dutch freedom intact. Yet the prosperity of Holland and its states had been ruined, much of the land left unfit for agriculture from the flooding by the sea, and many bulb fields had been washed away. A great deal of overseas trade had been lost forever. Recovery had been slow and nothing would ever be the same again.

Francesca mixed yellow with lead white on her palette. Years ago, during the siege, she had painted The Tulip Grower. Now she was capturing a single tulip. Last summer, after years of hard work had been spent in restoring his soil, Pieter had finally achieved his aim to produce a new tulip. The petals rose creamy white from the calyx to shade through pale yellow to deepest gold, echoing the tulip she had long incorporated into her signature. She had made paint sketches at the time it was in bloom, unbeknown to Pieter, for there had been no chance at that busy time of year to settle to painting it as a surprise gift for him, but soon now it would be ready for his birthday. He supposed her to be working on a self-portrait she had begun before Christmas.

She was using more yellow on blue for the foliage than was usual for her and she hoped the resulting greens would hold. Recently one of Jan Vermeer's paintings had been put up for auction in Haarlem. It was his Little Street in Delft and what had been green foliage had become decidedly blue in tint, although that in no way detracted from the unique beauty and tranquillity of the work. Pieter, knowing what it would mean to her to own it, had bid for it while she had sat beside him in the auction room, holding her breath in suspense. It had fetched very little. n.o.body else had been interested, but she had been overjoyed when it became hers.

Pausing in her work, she looked at the Delft painting on her studio wall. Her foreboding that she would never see Jan again had proved right. His Allegory of Faith had been one of his last works. Not long after her departure he had caught a chill that had settled on his lungs. Three years later, when he had been made dest.i.tute by the lack of business owing to the war, he and his family had had to move into his mother-in-law's house and there he had died at the age of forty-three. Catharina had been left in dire straits. Although housed with her children by her mother, she had had to sell all she possessed to meet colossal debts. Two of Jan's paintings had gone to the master baker in lieu of payment for a single large bill. Most heartbreaking of all was that her most adored work by Jan, An Artist in His Studio, was taken from her by the law for her insolvency, even though she had done everything in her power to keep it.

Aletta had received part of her tuition from Jan until deterioration in his health had made it impossible for him to continue teaching, but he had transferred her apprenticeship to another Delft artist. She had gained her mastership, but an abundance of children, ten in all, had given her little time to paint. Her olive branch to Hendrick had been her first three children, one a babe in arms, whom she took to see him at the war's end. The breach had been healed between father and daughter as soon as they sighted each other.

Aletta never sold her paintings, working now and again for her own pleasure. Horses had become a favorite subject, which was to be expected with Constantijn's breeding of Thoroughbreds. All their children had been taught to ride as soon as they were old enough and, almost from the start, Constantijn had begun riding again, in a specially designed saddle, on horses he trained himself. He sold most of his fine animals to England, where there was always a demand, more than to his own countrymen, for even the richest, such as the van Jansz family, who had narrowly missed bankruptcy during the war, had never recovered their former great wealth in the hardships of the aftermath.

In Amsterdam, Hendrick still painted, although his hands were gnarled like the roots of a tree and it was excruciatingly painful for him to hold a brush. Strangely the influence of his old master had become more apparent than ever in these last works, and one of them was almost sold as a Frans Hals before the mistake was discovered in time. Although Hendrick scarcely ever found a buyer more than once or twice a year, he and his household lived in modest comfort on a stipend paid jointly by his two sons-in-law.

Maria had died, but not before seeing Sybylla again at the end of the war. Sadly, Sybylla had returned home a widow and her life was not easy, for Hendrick had grown still more cantankerous with the years. Sybylla never complained. Many times she could have married again, but her old flirtatious ways were quite gone and she would not consider it. Her loss of Hans, who had been killed during the defense of the town where they had lived after moving from Rotterdam, had changed her a great deal, for she had loved him with her whole heart, and since she could no longer have him she wanted no one else. Yet there was a widower of her own age whose companionship seemed to suit her well, and those who loved her hoped that with time they might find happiness together.

Her child, now sixteen and, for some reason known only to Sybylla, nicknamed Mouse since birth in spite of being christened Anna, was the apple of Hendrick's eye. He had taught her to paint, showing a patience he had never been able to maintain with his own daughters. Her cousins called her Anna-Mouse, which was a pleasant combination, but although she produced quite adequate still lifes, she would never reach Guild level and neither did she wish to, for she was already in love and had marriage on her mind.

Francesca considered her own output of work. The days when Jan Vermeer had been able to sell her apprentice paintings easily from his gallery for a moderately good price were long gone, for sales for artists were few and far between these days. She did occasionally sell to art dealers and there was a collector of her work who came sometimes from Gouda, but she had become no richer through her work than any other artist she had ever known. Fortunately Pieter was a good provider for her and her sons. His investments made before the war in the colonies as well as in Holland had proved sound, not least in those three home commodities that would always be in demand by his fellow countrymen-beer, land and tulips.

As yet, circ.u.mstances had prevented Pieter from taking her on that long-promised visit to Italy, but before long the dream of her youth to see the Renaissance art of Florence, Venice and Rome was to come true. The youngest of their three sons, all of whom were born within eighteen months of each other, showed the true and unmistakable signs of becoming an artist, while the other two inclined to the land. Well named for a painter as Johannes, he was twelve years old and it had been arranged, to Francesca's mixed feelings of pride, pleasure and the pain of parting, that as soon as he was fourteen she and Pieter would take him to Florence and apprentice him to an Italian artist of high repute. The pinnacle of Dutch art had been reached in the golden span that had seen Rembrandt, Hals, de Hooch and Vermeer. Now it was in a decline with all else that had once made Holland great. But that was not to mean that such genius would never flower again. Francesca was sure, as were many others, that it would show its bright flame one day in the future. Perhaps even in her own child?

Aunt Janetje was too frail in health now to be given the responsibility of Johannes during his Italian apprenticeship, but her eldest son and his wife, who had visited Holland only a few months earlier, had expressed their willingness to act as guardians to the boy, having children of their own.

"Mother!"

Francesca looked up as the door of the studio was flung wide and Johannes came rushing in. He had discarded his outdoor clothes, but the cheeks of his lively face were still red and shiny as apples from skating outside.

"What is it?" she asked with an amused lift of her brows. He had a boisterous personality and was only quiet when he was sleeping or painting.

"When are we going to Amsterdam again? I want Grandfather to see my new portrait of him."

"I think your father hopes to take you with him when next he goes to the Exchange."

"Shall you come with us?"

"Yes. I like to see your grandfather and Aunt Sybylla whenever I can."

"Good." He came to stand by her and tilted his head as he eyed her painting a.s.sessingly, he and his brothers sharing the secret of it being done for their father. "Do you think I'll ever learn to paint with light as you do, Mother?"

"I'm sure you will."

When he had gone from the room again, she thought to herself that the light in his work would not be of the crystal-clear quality that pervaded such works as Vermeer's and her own, coming as it did from the sparkle of the ca.n.a.ls and the soft, sun-shot mists of the Dutch countryside. The light he would learn to master would have the warmth and richness of the Florentine sun reflected back from rust-red roofs, ancient time-weathered stone and the sapphire glimmer of the Arno. A whole new palette was for him.

Brush in hand, Francesca was facing her studio door when it opened again. This time it was Pieter who stood there. "Am I interrupting the painting of a masterpiece?" he inquired with a broad smile, leaning a shoulder against the jamb.

"No!" she laughed. "Not today."

"I came to see if you had time to go to the bulb shed with me. I'd like to show you the plans laid out there of the extension to be started in the spring."

She put down her palette and brush and rose from her stool at once. Separation from him throughout the difficult years of war had taught her the true values of life. She never took for granted a single moment that she spent with the man she loved.

About the Author.

ROSALIND LAKER is the author of many historical novels, including To Dance with Kings and The Venetian Mask. She lives in England.

ART, LOVE, MUSIC, POLITICAL INTRIGUE, VILLAINS, HEROES, spies, beauty, and tragedy collide in Rosalind Laker's splendid tale set in the seventeenth-century heyday of Rembrandt and Vermeer. This guide is intended as a starting point for a discussion about The Golden Tulip.

1. Describe the members of the Visser family. What is their situation? What is their family life like? How are the three girls alike? How are they different? How would you describe Anna and Hendrick's marriage?

2. Early in The Golden Tulip, Francesca discovers that her beloved aunt is marrying a man who will take her far from Amsterdam to Venice. She innocently asks her mother if her aunt's intended will make her "happy forever and ever." What do you think of Anna's response, which can be found on page 13? How do her words relate to the events in the rest of the novel?

3. Of Hendrick's three daughters, Francesca and Aletta have taken after their father and shown talent for painting. What kind of teacher is he? How does Anna see to it that her daughters become apprentices to their father-and thus eligible to apply to the Guild of Amsterdam when they are ready-without him knowing?

4. Francesca becomes the woman of the house at age thirteen. Is she suited to this task? How does she get her father to start painting again even in his grief?

5. Describe Pieter van Doorne. When does he see Francesca for the first time? What effect does she have on him then? When do they actually meet? Describe Ludolf van Deventer. What kind of man is he? How does he hide his true nature from people?

6. What does Francesca experience when she approaches her father's painting of herself as Flora for the first time? How does this painting affect her life and the lives of those around her?

7. Aletta plans to sell her painting to a merchant's wife, but Sybylla is against it. Why? Why is Aletta willing to take the risk?

8. Why is Hendrick jealous of his daughters? Do you think he is aware of his jealousy? Do you think creativity is linked to a certain kind of temperament-like Hendrick's-or is the idea of the artistic temperament a romantic affectation?

9. Pieter agrees to give Aletta a small s.p.a.ce in his stall at the market to sell her paintings. Why does he agree to help her? Why does he insist he tell Francesca first? Why is she reluctant to tell her sister about her plan?

10. Why does Hendrick at first refuse to let Francesca paint van Deventer's portrait and then immediately change his mind? What does this reveal about him as a person? As a father?

11. What is Amalia van Deventer's life like? How does she feel about her husband? What keeps her alive in spite of her sickness?

12. How does van Deventer gain control of Hendrick? What are the terms of payment for Hendrick's debt? Why does Hendrick accept them? What would you have done in a similar situation?

13. How does Francesca feel about Pieter? Although Francesca says she doesn't want to marry, she agrees to let Pieter visit her in Delft. Why?

14. Francesca is shocked when she meets Geetruyd, the woman who is to be her chaperone while she is in Delft. Why? How is this woman linked to van Deventer? What was your initial impression of Geetruyd? Did your feelings about her change as the novel progressed? What did you think of Clara?

15. Francesca likes Vermeer and his family right from the start of her apprenticeship with him. Why is he a good teacher for her? How is he different as a teacher and as a father from Hendrick?

16. While in Delft, Francesca sends a letter home to her family in which she describes a painting of a chained goldfinch. The letter is meant to make her father reconsider the harsh restrictions she believes he has put on her during her apprenticeship. Like the bird, many characters are held captive by something outside their control. Who else might be described as a prisoner? Of circ.u.mstances? Bad judgment? Pride?

17. The maid Neeltje takes a great risk in helping Francesca-once by interrupting van Deventer's advances and once by warning Aletta of the man's true nature. How are she and van Deventer linked outside of the employee/employer relationship? What is her advantage over him?

18. Hendrick goes into a rage when he discovers Aletta's secret paintings. Do you think his anger is justified? Aside from the issue of an apprentice taking credit for work without her master's permission, what is the deeper reason for his anger? Why does Aletta stop painting? How does this incident affect Aletta?

19. After the accident that nearly kills him, Aletta feels that she is connected to Constantijn de Veere. Why? How are she and this man she hardly knows alike? Why does she feel she is better able to understand his loss than others would be? How does she come to work for him? How is she able to get through to Constantijn when others fail?

20. Sybylla's dream of marrying a rich man is answered by Adriaen. Did you think he was a good match for her? Why does she fall in love with Hans? Hans intrigues Sybylla by telling her there is a mouse hidden somewhere in the painting he is a.s.sisting her father with. Where is the mouse hidden? What does it represent?

21. How does Francesca find out about her father's arrangement with van Deventer? How does she react?

22. Why does van Deventer spy for the French? Why does Geetruyd? How do Francesca and Pieter become involved? How does unraveling the ring of spies become the key to Francesca's freedom from her father's contract with van Deventer?

23. What is the symbolic gesture behind Hendrick's wedding gift to Aletta?

ALSO BY ROSALIND LAKER.

AN EPIC GENERATIONAL TALE OF LOVES LOST, promises kept, dreams broken, and monarchies shattered, To Dance with Kings is a story of pa.s.sion and privilege, humble beginnings and limitless ambition.

TO DANCE WITH KINGS.

$14.95 (Canada: $19.95).

978-0-307-35255-2.

Available from THREE RIVERS PRESS wherever books are sold.

BOOKS BY ROSALIND LAKER.

The Smuggler's Bride.

Ride the Blue Riband Warwyck's Woman.

Claudine's Daughter Warwyck's Choice Banners of Silk.

Gilded Splendour Jewelled Path.

What the Heart Keeps.

This Shining Land.

Tree of Gold The Silver Touch.

To Dance with Kings.

Circle of Pearls.

end.