She nodded, determined to be polite to him in her new resolve to do nothing to upset him for her mother’s sake. ‘Yes, Stepfather.’
‘There is another thing for you to remember. There are no Royalists in this house now.’ He made a sweeping gesture of contempt as if waving away through his own power all the loyalty of the Crown that Sotherleigh had harboured throughout the years. ‘Take your grandmother, for example. She is too old and sick to know whether it is today or yesterday, and Mary knows better than to talk of matters beyond her comprehension. And you, a slip of a girl on the brink of sixteen, I know that you would dither about which way to go if let out of the gate. As for your mother, all that was Royalist in her past came to an end today in her marriage to me.’
‘You’re wrong!’ It was a heart cry. ‘She’ll never forget!’
‘She’ll retain memories. I’m not denying that, but it is well known that the female brain has limited powers of assimilation, which cuts out any political understanding. Women follow as they are directed by their male superiors in such matters.’
‘I have heard that one of Cromwell’s own daughters does not share her father’s views and takes pleasure in less Puritan company.’
‘That daughter is a natural-born rebel, as I believe you to be. She lacked his correction through his absence at the fighting and no doubt much of your wilful behaviour is due to similar reasons. This simply confirms what I have already said to you. The weaker sex has no sense of its own beyond that for which it was created — housewifery and child-bearing. Now are you prepared to be obedient in future?’
She answered him straight-forwardly. ‘To my conscience, yes.’
‘Then yours had better be in accord with mine, because I’ll give you no second warning on your behaviour. I will have obedience in my house. There shall be no more flouting of my orders. I had enough of that from you when Sotherleigh first became mine. I’m not one to make idle threats and I warn you that if you digress again I shall not have the slightest hesitation in marrying you off to the first man who asks for you.’
Fear chilled her. She could see that he meant what he had said and as her stepfather he had complete authority over her. None could gainsay him if he made such a decision, and it would be a personal struggle between the two of them, because she would never give in. Somehow she managed to hide the effect his words had had on her.
‘My mother would never allow me to be married against my will!’
‘There is nothing she could do to stop me,’ he said complacently, ‘I cherish her feelings, but I will be master here. If I have to cause her distress through getting rid of you, so be it.’ He had become bored with the interview, having finished all he had to say, and he flicked a hand at her in dismissal. ‘Go now and mull over my warning. I shall expect to see you at supper.’
On her way back upstairs she gritted her teeth, seething inwardly at the terrible threat he had made. At least she had not lost her temper, which was surely a sign that she had made a little progress along the path of keeping the peace that she intended to take. Yet there was no guarantee that she would not err at some point. What a sword of Damocles to be set hanging by a thread over her head! She had heard of girls being forced to marry against their will, beatings and starvation methods used to make them submit to a parent’s will. She did not think Makepeace would use such means, for he knew how stubborn she could be, but there were distillations that for a short time could make a person malleable enough to do anything or sign any document put forward. She shivered.
Then as she was about to pass the flower screen she paused, looking towards the doors of the Long Gallery. Her face cleared and a little smile crept into the corner of her lips. Opening the doors, she hurried through to run the gallery’s length and back again, releasing her tension and blowing a kiss from her fingertips to the place where Charles II’s profile was hidden beneath the plaster. Makepeace thought there were no Royalists of consequence under his roof, and yet the King himself was here! Suddenly everything seemed brighter again.
*
Anne spent part of the afternoon writing to Michael. She had waited until today before breaking the news to him of Sotherleigh changing hands. It was a letter she had hoped would never have to be written, but at least it should soften the blow for him a little to know that his family were still there and that as Makepeace’s wife she was able to care for the property. She did not dare write ‘I see myself as your caretaker’ as she could never be sure into whose hands the letter might fall, but she knew Michael would read between the lines of her hopes that one day the Pallisters would again be the owners of Sotherleigh.
It was several months since she had last heard from Michael, but he had risen to a position of buying and selling for the merchant who employed him and, except for a yearning to be home, was finding life agreeable. The same went for Joe, who had become the young French King’s head groom. It was a prestigious appointment, bringing more gilt braid to his ceremonial livery, and he had perfected a proud strut that any French musketeer would envy. Anne always enjoyed these snippets of news about Joe as did Julia. He fitted well the old adage that if he fell in the gutter he would come up with a mouthful of diamonds.
When the letter was sealed and despatched on the first stage of a long and uncertain journey, she went to the east wing where another bedchamber, smaller than that where Makepeace now slept, had been prepared. It had the advantage of being linked by connecting doors to the room that had been her own parlour before the wing was closed. Out of this, aligned with the doors to her new bedchamber, were those into the master bedchamber. She could not, and would not, share with Makepeace the bed in which she had lain with Robert, but he would come to her in the other bed whenever he chose with nobody else being any the wiser. For the present she had shut out of her mind what the forthcoming night might bring. Time enough when the hour came. The physical side of marriage had always been joyful to her in the past, but to endure such intimacy with a man she did not love was another matter. She took heart from the fact that he had shown her nothing but respect from the start, even when they had not been in agreement.
When she went down to the Queen’s Parlour prior to supper, she wore the apricot satin with the gauzy bertha. Makepeace complimented her on her appearance.
‘But, my dear, that bertha is too transparent for true modesty. I had no right to point this out before, but as your husband I have. There’s no need to change the bertha now, but wear a concealing one in future.’
‘Yes, Makepeace.’ She felt uneasy and snubbed, but reminded herself that as a Puritan he was bound to frown on many of her ways and also that he had expressed his wish with a smile in a most courteous manner. Nevertheless, it was a welcome diversion when Julia and Mary arrived just then. Anne, knowing nothing of what had passed between Makepeace and Julia, smiled warmly at her daughter, who had managed to come to terms out of her own free will with the new order in the house. There was no décolletage to Julia’s gown; the scallop-edged collar spread out like large petals, each trimmed with a bow of embroidered ribbon too small, she had thought, to offend the most astringent taste.
‘Now we shall all go in to supper together,’ Anne said brightly. She took Makepeace’s arm and the two girls followed.
Julia did not find supper as much of an ordeal as she had expected. She had only to think of the King’s image in the Long Gallery and then everything Makepeace said or did became endurable. There he sat, pompous and satisfied at the head of the table, not knowing that his ownership of Sotherleigh could never be completely fulfilled, as he supposed it to be, as long as the plaque remained safely behind its plaster covering.
Conversation was not fluent over the meal, but it did not drag. Nothing untoward was said and once there were smiles all round when Anne recounted something that she herself had done as a child. It was when they all left the table and the two girls stopped by the Grand Staircase to say good night that Makepeace corrected both of them as to their attire.
&n
bsp; ‘No bows on your gowns in future, Julia. Neither should you wear such flamboyant adornment, Mary,’ he added, pointing to her thin string of beads. ‘These and all such frivolities on women’s garments are symbolic of Eve’s apple. I appreciate that you have worn your adornments in all innocence, which makes it my duty to remind you that women have always been the temptresses. To wear such symbols in male company other than mine would be to stir up evil in their minds. Now good night to you. Sleep well.’
Julia thought the effort of controlling her tongue would cause her to burst, and she ran upstairs with her skirts bunched in her hands to rage out of earshot, but no sooner had she glimpsed the doors of the Long Gallery again than she slowed her pace, allowing Mary to catch up. A smile played on her lips. As soon as they had reached Katherine’s parlour she told Mary how she had remembered the King’s plaque and her father’s words to her, and what a joke it was on Makepeace. They laughed together over it, and Mary was thankful that the release of mirth would stand Julia in good stead in the months and perhaps even years ahead.
Then, in the midst of laughter and without warning, Julia felt the full weight of the day’s happenings descend on her. She was sitting in her grandmother’s wedding chair and suddenly she flung her arms over her head to rock to and fro in misery.
‘My poor mother!’ she cried out in anguish. Mary, guessing what was in her mind, drew up her own chair to reach for Julia’s hand and hold it comfortingly. They sat there for a long time as if keeping vigil. It was far into the night when they went into their own rooms, unaware that Katherine had been lying awake and that her door was slightly ajar.
In the east wing there was no sleep for Anne, although Makepeace snored at her side. She lay looking up at the canopy of the bed in which she had never slept before. Each of its four posts had a bulbous curve a foot in diameter and the headboard behind her pillows was richly carved with many niches. Into each one Makepeace had fixed a candle before proceeding with what had been an even greater ordeal than she had expected it to be. It was as if he could not have enough light thrown down on her and had set candelabra on either side of the bed with the curtains looped back. Then he had rolled her nightgown up to her chin and started his fondling with a thoroughness that was entirely for his own gratification, for by Puritan standards marriage was only for the procreation of children. To share sensual pleasure with one’s wife was sinful. Yet in spite of lacking any finesse as a lover, he was not rough or hard-handed with her, for which she was thankful, and was at times quite tender, but his one-sided enjoyment of their mating had had moments she had not known how to endure. Worse, far worse than anything else, had been his gloating, salacious gaze, which returned constantly to her face as if by catching any change in her expression he gained some devious satisfaction. She kept closing her eyes to shut out the sight of him and what he was doing, but he coaxed her constantly to look at him. It was not a rape of her body that took place, but an attempted rape of her mind. She drew on her trick of withdrawing from the present as she did when at her embroidery and fixed her thoughts far from him. By this solid defence he was unable to possess her wholly as he had clearly intended.
All the candles had been snuffed before he slept and she did not think he would draw on such an excess of light again since her body no longer held any secrets from him. For a long while there was a restful darkness before dawn began to flood the room with pink and gold. Makepeace woke with a snort, remembered where he was and reached for her again.
‘It’s to beget a son, my dear,’ he muttered as needing some excuse for his desire. She had succeeded in keeping from him the precaution she had taken against conceiving. Childbirth was dangerous to any woman and whereas she had never considered that aspect before, she dared not take the risk now. She would be jeopardizing the security of those dependent on her, because she was certain Makepeace would not hesitate to banish them from Sotherleigh if anything should happen to her. Then she heard him repeating what he had said many times in the night in his silkily persuasive tones. ‘Look at me, wife. I want your eyes on me, my dear.’
His coaxing was loathsome to her, but with time she would perfect her mental withdrawal until she could obey without seeing him.
*
Julia’s sixteenth birthday came and went in that October of 1657 without any celebration to mark the occasion.
Makepeace had forbidden it. But in Katherine’s apartment she received gifts from Anne, Mary and also her grandmother, who was well enough that day to observe the event and to wish to take part. From her mother Julia received a grey velvet muff; it was lacking trimming since otherwise Makepeace would have forbidden its use. From Mary, whose pride in being able to read and write had never abated, there was a book on astronomy.
‘I thought you might like to know more of Christopher’s great studies,’ she said.
‘Nothing could please me more!’ Julia replied enthusiastically, leafing through it. ‘I’ll be well informed when I meet him again.’
Katherine had one of her own fans to give, which had been tucked away in its box for a long time. It was a rigid one with pale green feathers shaped into the form of the fleur-de-lis, which was appropriate since it had been made in France, and its ivory handle was beautifully worked.
‘I know you’ve always liked this fan, child,’ Katherine said when she had been thanked and kissed for it.
‘It’s so pretty.’ Julia stroked the feather tips across her palm, thrilled as much by her grandmother’s awareness of her birthday as by the most welcome gift itself. She was glad Katherine did not suspect there was an interloper under Sotherleigh’s roof who would confiscate and destroy the lovely fan if he should ever glimpse such frivolity. She thought of concealing it with the be-jewelled Pallister silver, which had been taken from the blanket chest and hidden in the secret underground passage leading to the maze. But she could not bear to have the lovely gift out of her sight and decided it would be safe in her room, as Makepeace never went there.
Now that Katherine was more alert again it was hoped that she would not realize she was the only one still wearing lace collars and trimmings on her garments. At Makepeace’s orders Anne, Julia and Mary had had to remove everything decorative down to the smallest ornamental fastening on their clothes. All low necklines had been filled in, starkly plain collars the rule, and petticoats, shifts and nightgowns had been stripped of lace and embroidery, all replaced by bands of linen. Only gowns of silk, wool or cotton could be retained, Makepeace being of the opinion that the heavy rustle of taffeta was seductive to men and satin on the female form too inviting. Makepeace himself emptied a drawer of Anne’s fancy garters, some of which had been given her by Robert, and threw them away. Mary and Julia were supposed to do likewise with theirs. Mary obeyed, but Julia kept the best and continued to wear them like hidden banners.
Makepeace began to entertain. His first guests were those neighbours from whom he had taken back the land. Since wives, sons and daughters were invited as well, Julia and Mary were present. One of the sons, Lucas Hannington, had been in Adam Warrender’s company when Julia was encircled on the hill. He had not been among those who had manhandled her, but to her annoyance he gave her a wink when the other guests’ backs were turned.
Julia soon found herself enjoying the occasion, for the Hanningtons, although Puritans, were not extremists and exuded goodwill and kindliness. Anne felt greatly at ease with them, for they were akin to the good folk she had associated with in her youth and as pleasant as she knew the majority of ordinary Puritans to be.
The Hannington offspring numbered ten in all, with ages ranging from seven to twenty, all given to lively chatter. In contrast the other family was strictly controlled, the two Thompson sons in black, their three sisters in grey. The girls were docile enough, eyes downcast most of the time, but there was spirit in the boys, who made sure they sat well away from their parents at the long table in the Great Hall and talked of football and cricket with enthusiasm.
After dinne
r the older people withdrew to the Queen’s Parlour, only the three Thompson girls accompanying their mother, while the rest donned cloaks against the cold and windy November day and went outside. They were supposed to take a walk, but they all knew of the Sotherleigh maze and Julia allowed them to get hilariously lost in it until she, intoxicated by so much lively company after being bereft of it for so long, led them out again. Then the Thompson boys made a football from rags scavenged from the stables. Although Lucas would have preferred to dally on his own with Julia, she treated him with such indifference that he joined in the game with everybody else.
It became very noisy. The intention of all was to keep well away from the house, but in the excitement of the game the flow of play took them on to a lawn within full view of the lower windows. Julia, giving a hearty kick that fluttered her petticoats, sent the ball soaring before falling flat on her face. Lucas, grinning at the glimpse he had had of her knee-high garter with its dancing scarlet ribbon, ran to help her up.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked with his arms around her.
In her mirth she forsook the grudge she had held against him and did not push him away. ‘Yes! That must have been a goal!’
It was then that she and all the rest saw a row of outraged faces at the windows of the Queen’s Parlour.
The Hannington offspring did not receive a second invitation to Sotherleigh, being deemed a bad influence on Julia, and the Thompson boys came into the same category. It was not that Makepeace disapproved of football, having played it himself when younger and it was known to have been a favourite sport of Cromwell’s in days past, but to see his stepdaughter kicking up her petticoats among the equally riotous Hannington girls had shocked him to the core. Fortunately for her he had been too far away to see the show of her garter. Since all the young people were involved, he did not pick her out for any special punishment, but he warned her severely against any such immodest displays in the future. He remained on good terms with the parents simply because it was to his advantage, and encouraged the dull wife of the strait-laced Mr Thompson to call as often as possible with their three equally dull daughters, for he thought their company entirely suitable for his womenfolk, Anne, Julia and Mary spent many tedious hours with them as a result.
Circle of Pearls Page 29