Satan's Mark. Anne Herries

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.