Chapter Twelve
AMSTERDAM, 1618
Clara set her brush and palette down onto the table beside her easel and crossed to the window. Prinsengracht appeared a lucent strip of cloudless sky, disturbed by a passing boat towing a small churn of wake across its surface. It was one of those crisp winter days that mimicked summer, flooding the studio with cold light.
Life within a crowded household had been a struggle at first, after so long alone with only Nico, the housekeeper and two daily kitchen maids. Now, more than a year on, she had grown used to it, though the house’s top floor studio provided a welcome daytime sanctuary.
She sighed. In truth, there was much to be grateful for. Will Elias, now fifteen, had lifted many household tasks from Nico’s shoulders, allowing him more time to paint a
