Satan's Mark. Anne Herries

the devil’s disciples; they stand for all your uncle hated. You are not like them, Annelise. If you go with this woman, they will destroy you. They will make you like them…they will destroy your soul.’

      ‘That is nonsense,’ said Lady Emily. ‘The Marquis has no wish to turn you out, Lady Prudence. He may send someone to take charge of the estate, but you and your husband are at liberty to stay here as custodians of the house…providing, of course, that you do not deny his right to take charge of his ward.’

      ‘You are threatening us…’ Lady Prudence drew back, fear in her eyes. She waved a hand towards Annelise. ‘Take her, then. Take the ungrateful girl. She is a serpent, and her cruelty has struck me to the heart. I do not wish to set eyes on her again.’

      ‘Aunt…’ Annelise looked at her unhappily. ‘Pray do not let us part in anger. I do not wish to quarrel with you.’

      ‘Go with her,’ replied Lady Prudence, her eyes hard, cold. ‘You are no longer any affair of mine.’

      Annelise felt as if she had been struck a blow in the face. How could her aunt speak so to her?

      ‘I did not mean to hurt you…’

      Lady Prudence got up and walked from the room without another word. Annelise stood staring after her, her back towards Lady Emily. She turned as she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder.

      ‘She will think better of her words another day,’ Lady Emily said. ‘Are you ready to leave, Annelise? I hope I may call you that—since we are to be companions for the time being?’

      ‘My clothes…’

      ‘You will not need them.’ Lady Emily laughed at her expression of surprise. ‘You cannot want to wear such drab gowns, Annelise? Your mother was a beautiful woman and she liked pretty things. She would not be happy to see you wearing such a plain gown. I shall provide you with something more suitable to your station. You need bring only any personal items you wish to keep…such as a gift from your dear mother or father.’

      Annelise nodded. Her memories of her mother had faded, but she did seem to recall her wearing silk gowns in attractive colours, at least until she had been widowed. Annelise too had worn colours when she was a small child; it had only been after her mother died that she had begun wearing black or grey all the time.

      ‘I do not have anything but this cross and chain I wear beneath my gown,’ Annelise said, showing it to her: it was silver and very plain. ‘If my mother had jewels, I have not seen them. My uncle believes jewellery to be sinful.’

      Lady Emily raised her brows but said nothing. Why had the girl not been given her own property? It was possible that the jewellery had been sold during the war, but she doubted it. Lord Woodward had been a wealthy man, and would not have sold his wife’s jewels unless desperate; to her knowledge, he had never been so. It seemed likely they had been sold later or were hidden away somewhere.

      ‘Well, we shall leave such matters to the Marquis’s discretion,’ she said. ‘Go and put on your cloak, Annelise, and we shall be on our way—unless there is anyone you wish to bid farewell?’

      ‘No…’ Annelise felt a choking sensation inside. ‘My uncle would not know if I went to him, and…’

      Lady Emily took her hand. ‘Try to forget your aunt’s unkindness. She has obviously been under a great strain of late. She will change her mind in time—and, if she does not, you have a new family to take care of you now.’

      ‘Thank you, ma’am. I am grateful…’

      ‘Come, let us go,’ Lady Emily said. ‘I see no reason to stay another moment. I shall come to your bedchamber with you. If anyone has something to say to you, they may say it to me. I will not have you made unhappy by these people.’

      Annelise did not reply. She was relieved to have been saved from her aunt’s attempt to force her into a marriage she did not want, but she was not ungrateful or unmindful of the care her uncle and aunt had given her. She would have preferred to take a fond leave of them, and was distressed by the tone of Lady Emily’s voice.

      Clearly she despised the Featherstones. She was a woman of some influence, and was determined to have her way: Lady Prudence had never stood a chance against her.

      Lady Emily had a letter from His Majesty that gave her authority to take Annelise with her, but it might have been more kindly done, in a way that would not have distressed Lady Prudence.

      There was nothing to do but to go with Lady Emily. Annelise was distressed that the parting with her aunt had been so harsh, but perhaps Lady Prudence would relent towards her when she had had leisure to consider.

      Besides, this lady must know Master Rochefort…but, no, that was not his name. The servant at Longton Hall had called him His Lordship. And he himself had mentioned the Marquis Saintjohn. Yes, they must know each other—and that meant she might see him when she was in London. Lord Rochefort. That must be his title. If he was a friend of her guardian, he would perhaps call on the Marquis’s mother.

      Annelise’s heart beat a little faster as she remembered the smile he had given her when he’d told her not to worry. He must have gone to see the Marquis, spoken to him on her behalf. It made Annelise feel warm inside. He wouldn’t have done that unless he liked her, would he?

      It was suddenly very important to her that he should like her, though she did not quite know why.

      Her thoughts were in chaos, her pulses racing as she collected the few possessions she wanted, then followed Lady Emily downstairs and out to the waiting carriage.

      There was no sign of either her aunt or Mr Broughton, but she had not really expected to see them. Her aunt’s kinsman must be mightily offended. Once again, Annelise felt regret for the harsh words that had passed between her and Lady Prudence, but she put them from her mind.

      As she was helped into the carriage, with its coat of arms emblazoned on the panels, she could not help feeling a spurt of excitement. She was going to London, to a new life…

      ‘So, this is my home,’ Lady Emily said as the carriage stopped outside a very large and imposing house on the Strand. ‘The property belongs to my son, of course, but there is sufficient space for us to avoid each other if we choose. He has only recently returned to England and is too busy to bother with my affairs for the moment.’ She led Annelise inside, taking off her hat and handing it to a hovering footman without even glancing his way. ‘I hope you will be happy here, my dear.’

      Annelise looked about her. They were in a huge, airy hall, which was bigger than the main parlour at her home, and the floors were made of grey marble tiles with a gold and black border. In the middle of the room was a round table with strange twisted legs, and there were several paintings hanging on the oak-panelled walls, side tables and chairs with padded seats covered in embroidered brocade. She had an impression of luxury, even opulence, and thought that the Marquis Saintjohn must be very rich.

      ‘I am sure I shall…’ Annelise began. Whatever else she had meant to say died unspoken on her lips as she saw the man walking down the grand stairway towards her. It was Lord Rochefort!

      She had never seen him dressed so splendidly; his coat and breeches were fashioned of a pale grey velvet, and in the latest petticoat style favoured by the King, his cuffs were of the finest Brussels lace, as was his falling band. He looked as if he were on his way to Court, but he had not adopted the fashion for wigs and wore his natural hair curled into a lovelock on his shoulder and tied with a scarlet ribbon. She gasped, her heart beginning to race wildly as she stared in wonder.

      ‘Oh…’

      ‘Ah, Justin,’ Lady Emily said. ‘I was not sure you would be here when we arrived. You know my son, of course, Annelise.’

      ‘You are the Marquis Saintjohn?’ Annelise stared up into his brilliant blue eyes, which seemed to mock her slightly. She trembled, her knees seeming to go weak. ‘But I thought…you said your name was Rochefort?’

      ‘I am