Chapter Forty-Three
GRIETE HOUSE, ANTWERP, 1630
Clara sat in the copper bathtub lined with linens draped to the floor, set in front of the fire with a screen in place to shield her from the chamber entrance. She chewed her lip, wishing she could go back and change her earlier behaviour. She hoped they could dine together so she might ask his forgiveness.
When she heard a soft knock on the door, she assumed Alyt had come to help her dress. ‘Come.’
The door opened. ‘Forgive me. I didn’t realise. I’ll see you at dinner.’
‘Henri? Wait.’ She closed the cloths across the bathtub. ‘I’m decent.’ She had spoken without thought, her tongue seeming no longer anchored to her rational mind but worked by some darker corner with an agenda of its own. Henri was not Nico. No such intimacies existed be
