Satan's Mark

‘So this is Mistress Woodward,’ he said. ‘I had heard you were become a Puritan, mistress—but it seems rumour hath lied yet again. In all the country, I dare swear, it would be hard to find a man who had not wished for my return most heartily, and the ladies cannot be brought to having wished for my banishment at all. But politics are ever thus, what say you?’

‘My uncle Sir Hugh Featherstone is of the Puritan persuasion,’ she replied. ‘But my father died fighting for your cause, Sire—and my mother of a broken heart. For myself, I am happy simply to be at Court this evening, and know nothing of politics.’

‘Well said, Mistress Woodward. You are as intelligent as you are lovely, and will be welcome to us whenever you choose to give us the pleasure of your company—which we hope will be often.’ Charles looked over her head at her guardian. ‘Sir, why do you frown so? This is meant to be a happy night, is it not?’

‘I beg your pardon, Sire,’ Justin replied. He was shocked to discover that he did not care for the look the King bestowed on Annelise. It was far too avaricious. ‘Perhaps you will grant me a moment of your time later?’

‘Yet another request for justice, I suppose?’ Charles waved his scented kerchief, looking bored and slightly out of temper. ‘Later, perhaps. Take your ward into the ballroom, sir. Dance with her. I would have her be merry. She is a lovely child, and a credit to you, Lady Emily.’

‘Thank you, Sire.’ Lady Emily curtsied before him. ‘You are generous to say so.’

‘Bring her often, madam. I would see her always at Court. Such beauty is not to be hidden away. And that is a command.’

Justin placed his hand under Annelise’s elbow, steering her away. In the next room they were already forming sets for the first dance of the evening and he took up his place with her. It was a courtly, gentle dance that allowed for conversation, but for the first few minutes Justin said nothing to her.

‘Are you angry with me?’ she ventured at last. ‘Have I offended you, sir?’

‘Angry? No. Why should I be?’ He looked down at her. ‘I apologise if I have seemed so.’

In truth he did not know what was wrong with him. The King had shown interest in her, nothing more. Was it not what he had planned—an amusing game to put Madam Barbara’s nose out a little? Yet as he looked down at Annelise’s face he felt something very akin to jealousy stirring.

What nonsense! She was a pretty little minx, but hardly likely to be a serious rival to His Majesty’s favourite.

Annelise knew nothing of his thoughts, only that he looked stern, as if she had made him angry. She turned her mind to the dance and curtsied; he bowed, and they parted to take a turn about the room with the next person in the line. A tiny nerve was twitching at the corner of his mouth when they came back together.

‘You seem annoyed…’

‘If I am, it is not with you.’

Annelise digested this in silence. He was angry, and if not with her—then who? With himself, his mother—or the King? Surely not His Majesty, unless he was displeased that his request for an interview had not been granted immediately? Of course, that must be it.

They made stately progress down the line.

‘You must be careful, Annelise,’ he said. ‘I have warned you before. There are those who would take advantage of your innocence. You are new come to Court and cannot know how to behave.’

She had spoken to no one but the King, and then only modestly, in answer to his questions. Surely her guardian could not have objected to that? He was being unfair to her!

She lifted her head, hurt by his odd manner and determined not to let it spoil her evening. Why was he being so stern with her? She had done nothing to bring his censure on her—and she was tired of being treated like a child. Lady Emily had spent hours teaching her how to curtsey, how to hold her fan, how to catch the eye of a gentleman across the room.

She saw a man looking in her direction. He was tall, attractive in a rather harsh way, and clearly interested in her. His approval was balm to her wounded spirit. She dropped her gaze in the manner Lady Emily had shown her, but let her mouth curve just a little at the corners to signal that she was not entirely displeased with his attention.

The music had come to an end. Justin took hold of her arm once more, steering her to the side of the room. It was his intention to restore her to his mother’s care, but they were waylaid by the man who had been staring so particularly at Annelise.

‘Good evening, Saintjohn,’ the man said, his dark eyes giving Annelise such a hot look that she was overcome with confusion. ‘Will you not introduce me to your beautiful companion? Madam, I am overwhelmed. They told me there was new star in the heavens but I did not believe them…until I saw you.’

‘God damn it!’ Justin said, firing up immediately. ‘No, I shall not introduce you, Rathbone. This lady wishes to have nothing to do with you or your kind. Lay a finger on her and I shall kill you.’

A sneer curled the other man’s lips. He bowed mockingly towards Annelise. ‘Forgive me, I did not know he had put his mark on you—but should you tire of his clumsy attentions I am Earl Rathbone, always at your service.’

He walked away before either she or Justin could answer. Annelise was the first to recover from the shock. She tipped her head to one side, gazing naughtily up at her guardian.

‘Was he one of the gentlemen you meant when you warned me earlier, sir? He seemed to imagine I was your mistress—I wonder why? How could he have made such a mistake?’

‘No doubt my mother has kept you informed of my misdemeanours,’ Justin said, amused despite himself. He gave her a look meant to quell her impertinence. That look in her eye was too challenging to be innocent. She was attempting to flirt with him, but he would not be drawn. ‘I do not pretend to have led a blameless life, Mistress Woodward—but I am a man. You are a woman and as yet unmarried. If you do not wish to be thought spoilt goods, you will stay well clear of Rathbone and his kind.’

‘And when I am married?’ Annelise was beginning to enjoy herself. If he was angry with her, so much the better. He might be her guardian, but Lady Emily had told her she had a right to her own opinions and she was determined not to be crushed by his disapproval. Especially as she had done nothing to deserve it! Besides, if he was angry, he was not indifferent. ‘May I choose my own friends, then, sir?’

‘You would be a fool to choose Rathbone even then,’ Justin said, glaring at her. He was no longer amused. Had she not a grain of sense in her head? ‘There are men who make women happy—and those who care only for themselves. I would not like to see you at the mercy of such a monster.’

‘You need not be concerned,’ Annelise said, a husky laugh escaping her as she discovered how easy it was to provoke him. ‘I do not particularly care for the Earl.’

‘We must be thankful you have sense enough for that,’ he said, and would have continued in the same vein had not two men come up to them at that very moment. ‘Ralph…Robert,’ he said, and suddenly he was smiling as he turned to Annelise. ‘I believe you know these gentlemen? My friends—I would like to introduce you to my ward, Mistress Woodward.’

‘Oddsfish!’ Ralph exclaimed as he took a second look at her. ‘I’ll be damned if it isn’t the little Puritan wench…’ Seeing Justin’s quick frown, he amended his tone, becoming instantly respectful. ‘I beg your pardon, Mistress Woodward. Your beauty has robbed me of what little wits I had, and Justin will tell you they were never of the best order.’

Annelise liked the way he turned the jest against himself. Nothing could deny the fact that he was ill-favoured, and at their first meeting she had not liked him, but now she sensed the warmth of his nature and that he was her guardian’s true friend.

‘I shall forgive you,’ she said, giving him a smile that would have melted harder hearts than poor Ralph’s. He fell instantly in love with her, knew his cause was hopeless, and vowed then and there to serve her as a friend. ‘Providing you will dance with me. This is my first time at Court, sir—and I would make the most of it.’

‘Mistress, I would die for you.’ Ralph swept her a reverent bow. ‘But dance I cannot—unless you wish me to crush your toes?’ He turned to Sir Robert Harris. ‘I dare say Rob here would be glad to serve where I cannot?’

‘Gladly,’ Sir Robert said at once. Like Ralph, he had fallen immediately under Annelise’s spell, but, unlike his wiser friend, he did not know his cause was hopeless. ‘You could not wish to dance with a clumsy bear when I am here to do your bidding.’

‘Then Ralph shall bring me some wine when we have done,’ Annelise said, her smile embracing them both. She laid her hand on the younger man’s arm. ‘Come, sir. I would have news of Cambridgeshire. Tell me, how do you go on with the restoration of your estates?’

Ralph stood with Justin as the two went off, clearly in harmony with one another. He saw the way his friend clenched his jaw and guessed at at least a part of his thoughts. Justin was attracted to the wench himself, though perhaps he was not yet fully aware of his feelings towards her.

‘Surprising, isn’t it? One would not have thought it from our first sight of her—but she is a heartbreaker, a born courtesan,’ he remarked. ‘I am not sure if she realises her power just now—but give her time and she will have us all her slaves.’

‘My mother says Lady Woodward was much the same in her youth,’ replied Justin, a nerve flicking in his throat. ‘I was concerned that her spirit might have been broken—but now I fear she will need a tight rein if she is not to bring herself to grief.’

‘Surely not?’ Ralph said mildly. ‘She is merely trying her legs, like a newborn foal. She could be gentled to the bridle, Justin.’

‘All women are faithless,’ he replied with a wry look at his friend. ‘It would be a wasted effort to try. No, I desire only that she should have a care for her reputation until she is safely wed—after that she may go to hell in her own way.’

Ralph stared as Justin walked off, leaving the ballroom without a backward glance. He had sometimes wondered what drove his friend of late. What was he looking for—why so bitter? He had always been quick to fire up, but he had also known how to laugh at adversity and himself.

It was true that Justin had been forged in the heat of battle, that his childhood had been unhappy—but many had. Children of the aristocracy were left to the care of a nurse, and the sons of the house often spent half their life in the household of a stranger, to learn of duty and to serve. Justin was not alone in that, nor in having been forced to live as an exile for years. He had always in the past possessed a strong sense of humour; surely this anger could not merely be because he thought all women cast in the same mould as his mother?

Something had happened to Justin—but what?

Had he already begun to suffer the pangs of unrequited love? Ralph had fallen for the little Puritan wench instantly, but it was the kind of love which was as happy to serve as to possess. Justin would love very differently. He would need to own…he would demand perfection.

‘And where, pray, is my ward this noon?’ Justin asked of his mother. He had found her alone in the small salon overlooking the garden at the back of the house, and bent to kiss her cheek. ‘I wish to speak with her.’

‘Do not frown so,’ Lady Emily replied, smiling inwardly as she saw his impatient look. As a child he had been quick, impatient—but so loving! Even now, there were times when he showed her a careless affection. ‘There is not the least need for this stern mood, Justin. Indeed, it is not like you to take such a moral stand. Why should you deny her the pleasures you would not deny others? Annelise has done nothing that you could possibly disapprove of—and at this moment she is walking by the river, accompanied by your own friends.’

‘Why did you not go with her?’

Lady Emily arched her brows in surprise. ‘A servant is attending her. Surely you do not imagine her to be in danger, either moral or physical, with Ralph there? He is a gentleman, Justin—and, unless I mistake the matter, cares for her.’

‘She is safe enough with him,’ he agreed. He took up a quill and twisted it between his fingers. ‘Robert is fool enough for anything, but I suppose I may trust Ralph as much as any man.’

‘I suppose you may.’ Lady Emily hid her amusement. This from a man who had hitherto shown no sign of caring for anything or anyone in particular!

Justin looked at her, his manner becoming less tense. ‘Do you need anything? Have you enough money?’

‘You are always generous. I want for nothing in the material sense, thank you.’

He nodded. ‘Who are you writing to, Mother?’

‘A friend—no one you care for.’

‘A lover, I imagine.’ He smiled as she did not deny it, then wandered away to stare out at the gardens, which stretched down towards the riverbank. The river itself was hidden from his view by shrubs and trees, but he could picture it in his mind. Somewhere out there, Annelise was strolling with his friends. He was amused despite himself, despite the mood that had come upon him of late. She had them both eating out of her hands as though they were puppies at her beck and call. They were both devoted to her, ready to do her bidding at the flicker of an eyelid. She had won them both completely within the space of a few days. ‘Have you never loved anyone, Mother?’ he asked without turning round.

‘I have loved you, Justin.’ He made no reply, but she saw by the way he held himself that he did not quite believe her. ‘I might have come to love your father. I was fifteen when they married me to him. He took me for the dowry I brought him. He had his mistresses even then. I was the brood mare he needed to give himself an heir, no more. Once you were born he hardly bothered with me. Do you wonder that I found pleasure elsewhere?’

The quill snapped between Justin’s fingers. He would not look at her as he said, ‘Excuse me, Mother. I believe I see Mistress Woodward returning. I shall go to meet her.’

‘Justin…’

He did not look round as she called his name. Lady Emily sighed. As a boy, Justin had adored her. He had been such a loving, loveable child—until one summer’s afternoon, when he had discovered her in the garden wrapped in her lover’s arms. He had turned against her from that moment, becoming prone to moods and sudden fits of temper and causing her so much trouble that she had given in to his father’s demands that he should be sent away to the house of a relative, where he would complete his education.

She would never forget the look he had given her as he was taken away, a look that had spoken of betrayal and a broken heart. She had not seen him again until he had returned to join his father and fight for King Charles I—and by then he had been so changed she had not known him. The moods had gone, but there was a carelessness about him that disturbed her. He seemed to care for no one and nothing, though his manners were those of the perfect courtier—always gallant, always laughing and ready to rise to a challenge, as though his life meant nothing to him.

She often wondered what might have happened if she had kept him with her…but of course that had not been possible.

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