They had walked to the rear of the house to collect their horses from the stables. When they saw the large, iron garden gate, they stopped to look at it. Christopher thought of the artist.
‘If that gate had been open,’ he said, indicating it, ‘I can see that it must have been a strong temptation to Monsieur Villemot. He’d been to the house before to choose the dress from Lady Culthorpe’s wardrobe that he wanted her to wear in the portrait. He knew that her bedchamber overlooked the garden. What took him in there was the vague hope of a glimpse of her at the window.’
‘I’d have done the same in his place, Christopher. This is where Araminta lives. It would have been like stepping into the Garden of Eden. I might even have been rewarded with a sighting of her.’
‘Monsieur Villemot was rewarded with a spell in Newgate. He also tore the sleeve of his coat on a briar. His visit to that garden was a disaster for him.’
‘The wonder is that he still wishes to remain in England.’
‘He likes it here.’
‘After the way he was treated?’
‘He’s unable to return to France,’ said Christopher, ‘until he can finally claim Monique as his wife. Paris is still full of her husband’s family and friends so they could never live there.’
‘Instead, you’ve designed them a French house in England.’
‘By the time it’s built, he may well have a beautiful wife with whom to share it.’
‘What will he do until then?’ said Henry.
‘Oh, he has plenty to keep him occupied in the meantime. There are gorgeous young women all over the city who want to sit for a portrait by Jean-Paul Villemot. Now that he’s been exonerated, he’s more popular than ever. He’ll be just like Henry Redmayne in that Molly House.’
‘Me?’
‘Yes,’ said Christopher. ‘Surrounded by painted ladies.’