Satan's Mark

‘You must not let my son intimidate you,’ Lady Emily said, giving her a look of pure mischief as they walked along the upper gallery. ‘You have been taught to obey without question, Annelise, but now you must learn to assert yourself. You must learn the power of your sex, the art of getting your own way with the least fuss. Men are after all but simple creatures—but they like to imagine themselves our masters. The secret of a good marriage is to let your husband believe you agree with his every word, while going your own merry way.’

Annelise stared at her. For a moment she was so shocked that she did not know whether or not her hostess spoke in jest, then she realised that beneath the teasing manner lay a will of iron.

‘My aunt would think it sinful to deceive her husband, ma’am.’

‘Your aunt is no doubt a worthy woman, but she is also a fool,’ replied Lady Emily. ‘She would be lost at Court. You are a beauty, Annelise. You have intelligence and an inheritance, which, though perhaps not huge, is still of some significance. If you would make the most of yourself, of your life, you must learn how to use your womanly arts to your own advantage. After all, why should you not? It is merely a game. You have a right to happiness. I can teach you how to play the game—unless the idea offends you?’

‘No, it does not offend me.’ Annelise laughed suddenly, a warm, husky laugh that surprised the older woman. She gave Lady Emily a naughty, enchanting look that only her mother might have recognised—a look first seen in her crib that had been missing for many a year. ‘No, ma’am, I think I should like to learn all you have to teach me.’

Lady Emily nodded, a speculative expression in her eyes. It was as she had thought when she first saw Annelise. Beneath the veneer of modesty lay a very different personality—a warmth and charm that might win the coldest heart.

She believed this young woman might just be the answer to her prayers.

Chapter Three

‘La, what a pretty thing she is!’ Lady Emily clapped her in delight as Annelise pirouetted for her benefit. ‘You will be the most beautiful lady at Court this evening, my dear.’

Annelise’s gown was fashioned in the elaborate French style which had become popular since His Majesty’s return, with a close-fitting laced bodice and a décolletage that skimmed her breasts and shoulders; the sleeves reached to her elbows, were full and banded with lace and ribbons; the trained overskirt was hitched back to reveal a heavily embroidered panel at the front. Her hair had been parted in the centre, caught in a chignon at the back and allowed to fall in bunches of ringlets to either side. Small knots of ribbon threaded with pearls had been pinned above the curls.

Annelise glanced at herself in the mirror, which was Venetian and fabulously expensive, just like her clothes. A part of her—the modest, unassuming lady that she still was by nature—was shocked by what she saw. That woman in the elegant silk gown could not possibly be her! And yet it was pleasing to be dressed so fine. She was aware of excitement, of a sense of expectation.

A knock at the door caused both Annelise and Lady Emily to turn their heads. They were standing in the small chamber which led through to Annelise’s bedroom; it was furnished with a writing table, a handsome cabinet, stools and a settle so that guests might be received privately, something Annelise had found strange at first, but had now discovered was favoured by many of the fine ladies she had met since coming to town. After the French fashion, friends, privileged tradesmen, wig-makers and suitors were all invited to a lady’s boudoir to watch and admire as the finishing touches were put to her toilette. The practice had astounded Annelise, who had found it shocking at first, but after four weeks, during which she had been taken to meet many of Lady Emily’s friends, she had lost many of her former inhibitions.

‘Enter,’ she called, unsurprised when the Marquis walked in. It was not the first time he had come to her boudoir, though she had not seen a great deal of him these past few weeks, because his time was much occupied by constant visits to the courtroom in which he was suing for the return of his father’s estate. ‘You are home, then, sir. I vow we had begun to think you had forgotten this evening is to be my debut at Court. Is that not so, ma’am?’

She tipped back her head, her eyes bright with mischief as she gave him what could only be called a provocative smile, then sank into a very deep and reverent curtsey, her head bent as if she curtsied to the King himself.

‘Did you think I would break my promise?’ Justin’s brows rose as he saw her and was struck by the change, not only in her appearance but her manner. She was enchanting! His mother had worked a miracle. He could hardly believe that this confident lady of fashion was the little Puritan maid he had seen singing in the woods only a few weeks earlier. ‘You look very well, Mistress Woodward.’

‘She looks well! Fie on you, Justin,’ his mother cried, tapping his arm with her fan. ‘Have you no better compliments for Annelise? She is ravishingly lovely in that gown—and, I dare swear, will cause quite a stir this evening.’

‘Annelise has always been beautiful,’ Justin replied, frowning slightly. His frown was for himself. For some unaccountable reason he was uneasy. Who was this beautiful young woman? Where had she come from? ‘I am sure Mistress Woodward will acquit herself with the proper modesty due to her unmarried status.’ He handed Annelise a velvet-covered box. ‘You need some kind of ornament. I hope this will be to your taste.’

Annelise gave a little cry of pleasure as she opened the box and discovered a necklace of pearls with a large emerald pendant set in gold. She had never seen anything quite as lovely.

‘Oh, this is wonderful,’ she cried, her face lighting up as she looked at him. ‘May I really wear this?’

‘It is for you,’ he said, and his mouth softened into a smile as he saw her delight in the necklace. For a moment he had thought her the sophisticated lady of fashion she looked, but underneath she was still the innocent girl who had been dancing in the woods when he had come upon her all unawares. ‘My gift to mark this special evening.’

‘Thank you…’ Annelise hesitated as she saw the way he was looking at her. What did it mean, and why had her heart started to race? ‘You and Lady Emily have been so kind to me.’

‘Nonsense, my dear,’ her hostess said. ‘You have been a delight to teach.’ Lady Emily gave her son a sly glance, noticing his intense gaze, which was all for Annelise. ‘Are you not pleased with my efforts, Justin? Do you not think she has learned her lessons well?’

‘I did not doubt she would,’ he replied. ‘Come, Miss Woodward, let me fasten the necklace for you.’

Annelise stood where she was as he came towards her, then gave him the necklace and turned her back so that he could fasten the clasp at the nape of her neck. His hand brushed her bare shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine. She glanced round at him, fluttering her lashes in the way Lady Emily had taught her, and smiled.

She was a minx! His mother had taught her too well, Justin thought as he saw that look. What a charmer she was. No French courtesan could have done better!

‘We should go,’ he said, refusing to respond to the invitation in her eyes. Damn it! He hadn’t expected such a change so quickly; he wasn’t sure how it had come about. One moment she had been the nervous, slightly reserved girl he had first met; the next she appeared to have turned into an accomplished flirt. What had been going on while he was tied up at the Court of Appeals?

He saw his frown had brought a look of dismay to her face, and remembered that this transformation was only on the surface. His mother had taught her to flirt prettily, but the girl herself was not changed. Yet something stopped him reassuring her at once. He must remember always that she was under his protection and keep a distance between them.

‘I do not want to be late. The hearing seems to drag on for ever. I must speak to His Majesty this evening, see what can be done to hurry things along.’ He spoke more harshly than he knew, his mind too wrapped up in his own concerns to realise that his words might be taken amiss.

Annelise heard the coldness in his voice and felt hurt. She had tried so hard to be what he wanted. Lady Emily had told her about the beautiful ladies he had known in France, his mistresses who were amongst the cream of the courtiers and much envied him by other men—and she so wanted to be like them, because then he might find her attractive. His manner told her that he was indifferent to her. Despite all her efforts to ape the manners of Lady Emily’s friends, she was still only a country girl at heart.

If she wanted to make the Marquis look at her with interest, she would just have to become like the sophisticated ladies his mother said he admired.

‘Take no notice of him,’ Lady Emily whispered at her shoulder as they followed Justin outside to where two sedan chairs were waiting to carry them to the palace. ‘He has been in a mood of late. I do not know what ails him. It hardly matters whether he regains his father’s estates, he has money enough—but it is always so with him. He will have his way, no matter the cost.’

Annelise made no reply. She waited until Lady Emily was settled in her chair, then gave her hand to Justin. He nodded to her, then carried her hand to his lips, kissing it briefly.

‘My mother is right,’ he said softly, relenting because of the hurt in her eyes. ‘I have no doubt that you will cause a stir this evening—but choose your victims wisely, Annelise. His Majesty frowns on duels amongst his courtiers. If you must break hearts, make sure the gentlemen are first your friends.’

‘Are you my friend, sir?’ Annelise glanced up at him wickedly.

‘I am your guardian. You will gain nothing by flirting with me. You should look for a suitable husband.’ Once again he was conscious of the need to keep his distance—for her sake.

‘Yes, my lord, I shall do as you bid me,’ she said, a glint in her eyes. ‘But you would not wish me to marry in haste? You would not seek to force me into taking a husband I could not like?’

‘Of course not.’ What was wrong with him that evening? Justin wondered at his own harshness. The girl was entitled to her pleasures. ‘I meant only that this is your first time at Court. No doubt my mother has warned you of the dangers. I need not say more.’

‘No, sir, you need not.’

Annelise drew the curtain on her chair, shutting herself in as the chairmen began to carry her through the streets. The Marquis was walking beside her and there was a footman following behind, armed with a stout cudgel. It was necessary to be on one’s guard, for there were beggars and vagrants waiting in dark corners to spring on the unwary and rob them of their valuables.

London could be a dangerous place, both on the streets and at Court. Some of the men who had judged King Charles I had already been seized and tried for their crimes, and others less guilty of treason had also been punished for the part they had played after the war. In the country there were murmurs of dissent, and at the Court itself the various factions were at each other’s throats.

Annelise’s uncle had spoken of the Court as a wicked, licentious place, where the King set a bad example to his followers by his immoral behaviour. He had his mistresses, amongst them the beautiful Barbara Villiers, whose husband, Lord Castlemaine, was forced to accept the horns of a cuckold in return for favours given by his Sovereign.

Annelise was well aware that she must be careful of her reputation if she wished for a good marriage.

‘Once you are married, you may do as you wish,’ Lady Emily had told her with a wicked look. ‘Providing you know how to manage your husband, of course. Naturally, you will not take lovers until you have given him an heir…though at Court, I dare swear, there are a good many husbands who hardly know whether their sons are their own or another’s.’ She had laughed, as if much amused at the idea. ‘And it serves some of them right!’

If the ladies of the Court could flirt as they pleased, then so could she, Annelise decided. The Marquis was her guardian, but there was surely no need for him to be so strict with her—he was almost as bad as her uncle had been. She would ignore him, as Lady Emily had told her. This was to be a special evening, and she meant to enjoy herself, despite the little ache in her heart his harsh manner had caused.

Annelise was nervous as she went forward with Lady Emily to be presented to His Majesty. At first sight he looked ugly, with his long face, dark complexion and sad spaniel eyes, but as she rose from her curtsey and looked up into his eyes she saw they were not really melancholy at all. He smiled at her, a hint of mischief in his manner as he welcomed her to Court.

‘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.’