Devilʼs Brew: The Janna Chronicles 5 (28 page)

You’ll only hear what I choose to tell!
Janna didn’t put her thoughts into words, but it was hard to keep her dismay from showing. She’d suddenly realized, now that it was too late, that she was about to go into the fortress of the enemy. True, Bishop Henry had seemed to support the empress’s cause while his brother was imprisoned, but Janna knew, even if the present company did not, that he had always supported his brother and had worked actively to bring about the empress’s downfall.

With a prick of alarm, Janna wondered if the bishop had heard of her own role in making sure his treachery was known to the empress. She must hope for the best, and be very careful indeed to hide her involvement with his agent. Nor must she let her thoughts show, never indicate by word or deed that she was at odds with the king and his brother, the bishop. So she pressed her lips tight shut and sank into another deep curtsy, thinking it safer than saying or doing anything else.

Apparently the bishop was pleased enough with her, for he helped her up, gave her a warmer smile than any other member of John’s family had done, and then excused himself to talk to Eleanor’s father, who had materialized at his elbow. Janna was left facing her new family.

“May I present Hamo, sire, cousin to Sire Hugh, whose marriage is being celebrated today,” she said, hoping Hamo might ease the tension with his usual irrepressible high spirits.

“And how do you come to be on such familiar terms with a young lord?” Blanche demanded coldly, clearly having learned something of Johanna’s upbringing.

“Janna rescued me!” Hamo said, not giving Janna a chance to reply as he continued, “Our reeve kidnapped me when I was staying with my cousin Hugh on his manor farm. Janna and Godric found me just in time. She’s very brave. Hugh says she’s also very clever.”

Janna did her best not to smile, although she was delighted that Hamo had given her such a glowing testimonial. Perhaps it would help wipe away the sour expression on Blanche’s face.

“Johanna has learned the art of healing from her mother,” John added quickly, as if hoping to increase his daughter’s standing in the eyes of his wife.

“She helped my cousin Hugh get better after he was stabbed at the fair in Wiltune,” Hamo chimed in eagerly, happy to heap praise on someone he regarded as both a friend and an ally.

Janna was beginning to blush at all the unaccustomed attention she was receiving. “I have some knowledge of herbs and healing,” she said modestly.

Blanche’s mouth pulled down, apparently unwilling to think well of this cuckoo in their midst. Giles continued to scowl at her, but Janna hoped that she might be able to persuade the two girls into friendship. She smiled at them. “How old are you?” she asked, thinking to make them her allies, if she could.

“Richildis is the eldest of my children,” Blanche answered quickly. “But you, of course, are some years older than she is.” She looked Janna up and down with increasing disfavor. “At your age I’m surprised you are not wed.”

“’Tis just as well she is not, for now it is in my power to find a suitable husband for her,” John interposed.

Dismayed, Janna opened her mouth to protest, then quickly closed it again. It wouldn’t do to antagonize her father right at the start. When she’d first pondered the consequences of finding him, and the price she might have to pay for being his daughter, she hadn’t taken an arranged marriage into consideration. With a sinking heart, she wondered if she’d just made the biggest mistake of her life. She heard Hamo’s joyful shout, and turned to see what had attracted his attention.

“Hugh!” He was jumping up and down and waving to his cousin. Janna watched Hugh’s mouth open in shock as he recognized her. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, she smoothed her hands over the silky woolen fabric of her gown and flicked back her hair. For the first time ever, she would meet him as an equal. She savored her triumph as she watched Hugh hurry toward her, closely followed by his new wife.

Janna smiled at them both as they approached. She saw puzzlement give way to shock as Eleanor finally recognized her, and noticed the light die in her joyful face as she hurried to keep pace with her lord. It was enough to make Janna feel deeply uncomfortable. She had wanted to meet Hugh and Eleanor this last time just to show them who she truly was: not a drudge in a tavern but the granddaughter of a king. So focused had she been on her own ambition, she hadn’t given any thought as to how her presence might spoil Eleanor’s joy on this day of all days. But it was too late now to run, to pretend she hadn’t seen them, so she kept her smile fixed firmly in place.

“My congratulations on your nuptials,” her father said. His glance went from Hugh to Eleanor, who stood silent by Hugh’s side. “I am John fitz Henry. Did you wish to speak to my daughter?”

“I…” There was such an expression of regret on Hugh’s face that Janna turned away, lest she betray what she was thinking. She listened to his mumbled introduction, which seemed to meet with her father’s approval, for he then introduced his own family in turn. There was a short silence, broken by Janna, who was desperate to do what she could to retrieve the situation.

“May I wish you both happiness and a long life together,” she said, making a point of turning first to Eleanor before extending her good wishes to Hugh.

“But who…how…?” Eleanor seemed quite unable to equate the serving wench she’d met at the fair with this new, self-assured Janna in her pretty blue gown. She clutched Hugh’s arm as if needing his support. Janna watched them both, her victory crumbling into bitter ashes. This was not what she’d wanted, not what she’d set out to achieve. Yes, she’d hoped to meet them as equals, but not at the price of Eleanor’s happiness and peace of mind. For it was all too clear now that Hugh was an unwilling groom and she an anxious and needy bride.

At that moment, Janna heartily wished she could turn back time. If only she could be in the forest with Godric, listening to his declaration of love and the future he had planned for them. She should have stayed with him and loved him. She would have been happy. Yet Janna knew that, in truth, she would always have regretted it if she’d settled too soon, always have wondered about the world outside her home. And now she, and Godric as well, had journeyed too far and gone through too much ever to recapture that younger and more innocent time.

Nor could she regret going in search of her father, she thought, as she looked up at John. Even though she’d made mistakes along the journey; even though she’d let herself down, and others too, still she was proud she’d had the courage to do what her heart dictated. Briefly, she closed her eyes and wished with all her heart that it was not too late for her and Godric; that somehow she might still salvage her own happiness.

Conscious that a deepening and uneasy silence had fallen on the group, she roused herself. “Where shall you live, now that you are wed?” She addressed the question to Eleanor, making an effort to be friendly.

“On Hugh’s manor farm, for the while.” Eleanor’s sideways glance at Janna answered much more than her question. It was clear she intended to take Hugh as far away from Janna as possible. “I’m looking forward to seeing my new home,” she continued, letting Janna know also that she was to be mistress there, no matter what ideas Hugh might have to the contrary.

Janna sighed. It was going to be impossible to get around the prickles of the new bride, she could see that now. All she could do was wish them well, and she did so, and noticed the alacrity with which Eleanor tried to drag Hugh away as soon as it was polite to do so.

“Pray, come with me, Hamo.” Hugh made the excuse to linger, putting his hand on the boy’s arm to make his intention plain. “God go with you,” he said quietly to Janna, then turned to his impatient bride. “Time for our nuptial mass,” he said. He pulled her arm through his and walked to the door of the cathedral. Janna watched them go, and saw them reunited with their families, waiting there for them. She realized, with a shock, that their encounter had been noted by Hugh’s aunt, Dame Alice, who regarded her with a puzzled air, as if wondering why she seemed so familiar. At once Janna turned her back on the dame, not waiting to see if her husband stood beside her. She could only hope, with all her heart, that Robert of Babestoche’s attention had been engaged elsewhere.

She met the amused glance of her father, which told her he’d well understood the byplay between her and the newlyweds. “Fret not over the young lord,” he whispered quietly. “He would have made a most unsuitable match for the granddaughter of the old king. There are many more worthy suitors for your hand, and I promise you that I shall give the matter my full attention just as soon as my affairs are settled here and we can go back to Normandy.”

“We go to Normandy?” Janna wondered how many more shocks she would have to endure this day. Her heart contracted at the prospect of having to leave England before she could talk to Godric, and before she could fulfil her quest to bring her mother’s killer to justice. The notion of her father taking control over who she would wed also filled her with alarm. She wished, now, that she’d given the matter a great deal more thought before she’d made her pledge of obedience.

“I have to stay to oversee the building of my new estate, but we’ll leave as soon as my new steward is installed.” John frowned, betraying his concern. “The delay will give you time to get to know my wife and family. But now is not the time to talk of such matters,” he concluded hurriedly. “We must go inside to hear the mass.”

“Yes, my lord,” Janna said politely. The last thing she wished was to inflict her continuing presence on the bride and groom. She was desperate for a few moments alone to gather her thoughts and prepare herself for her new role. Her life had taken such an unexpected turn, and it was racing beyond her control. But, more than anything, she wanted to see Godric, to talk to him one last time.

She reached out and tugged her father’s sleeve, for he’d already turned to escort his wife into the cathedral. “May I be excused, just for the moment, my lord? I have some things I need to attend to before I can come and…and make my life with you. I-I’ll see you after the mass. I’ll wait for you here.”

Not giving her father any time to argue, she turned on her heel and pushed quickly through the crowd, hoping to find Godric on his own, but there was no sign of him. Janna finally concluded that he must already have gone into the cathedral with Cecily, for there was no sign of her either. However, she gave up looking for him only when the last straggler walked into the cathedral and the great doors closed.

Unable to hide her tears any longer, Janna fled around the side of the cathedral, hoping to find a safe refuge among the gravestones. A sunny patch of grass caught her eye, and she sank down and gave herself up to weeping. In finding her father it seemed that she had lost her free will and all chance of happiness. Even if Godric chose to turn his back on Hugh and Cecily, it seemed her father would never permit the match on which she’d pinned her hopes. Cecily was right: if she persisted in her pursuit of Godric she would wreck everything.

An aching sense of loss, of desolation, filled Janna. Godric was lost to her; she would never see him again, never hear his voice, never have the chance to tell him how much he meant to her – how much she loved him. She would never feel the touch of his lips, the sweetness of his kiss –

“Janna?”

It seemed a dream that she could hear his voice through her distress. But his touch was real, as true as the sunlight warming her back and the cold ground beneath her. She raised her head to make sure of him.

“Do not weep for Hugh. You have so much to live for now.” Godric sat down on the grass beside her. He made no further move to touch her, but his voice was like a caress, his concern for her as real as their kiss had been.

“Godric,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?” In her mind she saw him still in the cathedral with Cecily, and lost to her.

“I wanted to see you, to talk to you one last time.” His voice was formal as he continued carefully, “I witnessed your meeting with your father and his family. Sire Hugh told me that you’d found him at last, and of the good fortune of your noble birthright. I wanted to wish you well for the future, Janna.” His tentative smile wrenched Janna’s heart. “I suppose I should call you ‘my lady,’” he said awkwardly.

“Never ‘my lady,’ Godric. I’ll always be Janna to you.” There was so much more she needed to say to him, she hardly knew where to start. “And please don’t think I weep for Hugh. I realized a long time ago that I cannot care for him as I – ”

“I’ve seen how he looks at you, how he touched you and kissed you – yes, even after he was betrothed!” Godric’s tone was savage.

“You mistake what you saw, for that was his doing, not mine! But I kissed
you
, Godric, don’t you remember that? And I thought our kiss meant as much to you as it did to me!”

“It did! Oh God, Janna, I – ”

“But I know Sire Hugh wishes you to marry Cecily and I know also that your future lies with him at the manor – but only if that’s what you truly want?” It almost killed Janna to say the words. She stared defiantly at Godric, but her bravado melted instantly as she noted the anguish on his face.

“What you say is true, but I would give anything – ” Godric took her hand. “If my future seems certain, so is yours,” he said. “Your father would never permit you to marry a lowborn serf like me.”

Maybe I could change his mind!
But the words stayed unsaid. Just as she’d been unwilling to jeopardize Hugh’s future, Janna was unwilling to risk Godric’s future either – unless he himself was prepared to turn his back on certainty and risk a future with her.

Godric still had hold of her hand. “I said once that I loved you, and I have never swerved from that, no matter what you may have heard from Sire Hugh.”

Or Cecily
, Janna thought.

“You should not have doubted me, Janna, for I have stayed true to you for all these years. And, now that I know your heart is not with Sire Hugh, I can tell you that I love you still.”

“And I was ever a fool not to understand what love is, Godric. But I know full well how I feel about you now.” Janna looked up at him, longing for him to take her in his arms. Yet he kept a careful distance from her as he continued.

“But love isn’t enough, is it, Janna? Your noble father will make a match for you with someone of equal rank and wealth. That’s the way of the world, although I wish with all my heart that things were different.”

“They can be, if you’re sure I’m who you want.” Janna hesitated. “If my father won’t permit the match we could run away, make a life together. I’m willing to take a chance if you are, Godric.”

“No.” Godric’s face reflected his misery as he continued. “I love you too much to dishonor you, nor would I subject you to a life of hiding, living in penury. You deserve so much more than that. Besides, you know that your father would not rest until he found you. And I daresay my liege lord would not let me go either, not without a search. What you suggest is impossible, Janna.”

“What if we just got married, then?” Janna thought of her father, who’d done exactly that. “If we exchanged our vows in front of witnesses, no-one could undo it.”

“I cannot marry you, Janna, unless it’s with the full blessing of your father. Besides, I’d also need permission to wed from my liege lord. Sire Hugh would not risk offending such a powerful baron unless your father approved the match. Which we both know he never will, for he will have his eyes on a much higher prize for you, someone who will reflect glory on his family.”

Godric spoke only the truth, even if Janna hated to hear it. “I love you with all my heart, Janna,” he continued steadily. “And I can tell you now, there’ll never be anyone else in my life.”

“Not even Cecily?”

Godric shook his head. “I will not marry to please my lord. I have already told him so. I will not marry someone I don’t love.”

A sweet joy swept through Janna as she understood what he was saying to her. Knowing that this was Godric’s choice, and that it would remain unchanged despite Cecily’s best efforts, gave her the freedom to open her heart to him.

“I was hoping to have this last chance to speak to you, because I couldn’t bear to let you go to Cecily without telling you that at last I know the truth. I love you too, Godric. I always will. There’ll never be anyone else for me either. Never. I want you to know that.”

“My dearest Janna.” Godric tried to smile, but could not hide his anguish.

“I’ll talk to my father about you. He too married for love and may well understand that I need to follow my heart in this. If I can make him see things my way, he may buy your freedom from Dame Alice and Hugh so that we can be wed.”

“He’ll never agree to it. You know that, Janna, and so do I. But, like your father, I also want what’s best for you, and I know that doesn’t include a future with me. My dearest wish is that, in pleasing him, you’ll come to find happiness with a husband of his choice.”

The clamor of bells set the ravens flying and startled them. Mass was over. Janna knew that her father was expecting to find her waiting outside the cathedral. She must not delay.

Reluctantly, she rose to her feet, her hand held to Godric’s heart as he stood with her. For a long moment he looked into her eyes, a searching look that scoured her mind, her heart and her soul. “I won’t give up on us, Godric. Wait for me. Please.”

“Forget about me, Janna. And may God be with you always,” he said roughly, and kissed her cheek. Before Janna could respond, he released her hand and strode quickly away.

Stricken, she stared after him. She touched her cheek where his lips had been, and pressed her fingers to her mouth, already aching with loss. A scrap of parchment lying on the grass caught her eye, and she bent to pick it up. It must have slipped from Godric’s scrip, but it was his and therefore precious. Curious, she unfolded it to read the words inscribed there. The page shook in her hand, betraying her emotion. She clutched the scrap of parchment tighter to keep it steady.

Mistress Johanna? This was a letter to her! Had Godric dropped it on purpose for her to find? But he’d never called her Johanna before! Why so formal? And no endearment either! She gazed unseeing at the green grass and the sheep grazing peacefully among the tombstones. “My dearest Janna,” she spoke the words she wished were written on the page. She sighed, and kept reading, anxious to know what was on his mind.

Presumption? Godric? How could he say such a thing! This was not at all what she’d expected. Janna bent her head to the letter once more.

The letter was signed simply, “
Godric.
”

Somewhat bemused, Janna reread the message. Why, after all that had just passed between them, had Godric left this for her to find? And then the truth came to her: he must have written this with the intention of sending it on if he didn’t have the chance to talk to her himself.

Janna gave blessings to all the saints that they had met, for she knew how devastated she would have been to receive such a cold and formal message from him. Although the words did not reflect how they truly felt about each other, nevertheless she folded the parchment and slipped it into her purse. This was her last link with Godric and she would treasure it always. Now she could understand why her mother had kept the letter from her father, and how precious it must have seemed even though she thought he’d broken faith with her. This letter was valued above everything else that Janna owned.

She pulled her thoughts away from her grief to consider the path ahead. She knew it would not be easy, given her new family’s antagonism toward her. Her spirits felt crushed already by that burden. She grimaced as she realized that at last she’d got what she wanted, but it was not what she’d expected. She was no longer sure that the prize was worth having, for in the gaining of it she had lost her freedom to go where she pleased, and do as she pleased. Nor could she marry as she pleased, and that was the very worst thing of all.

With heavy footsteps and a heavier heart, she began to make her way toward the door of the cathedral.

“Now then, Janna!”

She jumped at the sound of Ulf’s voice. She’d been so sunk in misery she hadn’t noticed him.

“I called in at the tavern to see you, lass. Sybil said you’d gone to meet your father and his family. She told me where to find you.” Ulf’s ready smile faded to a frown of puzzlement. “What’s happened? You look as sick as a hen on a wet night.”

Janna drew a quavering breath. “It’s nothing.” She forced a smile onto her face.

“Did it go badly between you, then?”

To avoid his penetrating gaze, Janna bent down to pat Brutus. “No, everything went well. I found my father. He’s accepted me as his daughter. He even introduced me to his family.”

“There, then! What did I tell you?” Ulf sketched a quick outline of Janna’s shape with his finger. “That gown’s a great improvement on that old tunic of Sybil’s. It’s brushed up right well. Any father would be proud to own you as his daughter.”

“Yes, my father owns me now,” Janna said bitterly, not responding to Ulf’s flattery. “That’s the truth of it. And his family hate me,” she added, her voice sharp with resentment.

“Don’t take on so, lass.” Ulf patted her arm in an effort to cheer her up. “It all feels new and different now, having a family of your own. You’ll get used to them and they’ll get used to you. It’ll all come right, you’ll see.”

Janna wished she shared Ulf’s easy optimism. She straightened up from patting Brutus. “Did you want to see me about anything special?” she asked, remembering that he’d called in to the tavern looking for her.

Ulf gave her a long, considering look. “News of your father makes my news easier to tell, any road. I came to say that I’m leaving soon. I came to tell you goodbye.”

“Goodbye?” Janna drew a long breath, fighting not to say aloud the words that clamored to be heard:
Don’t go. Don’t abandon me!
She clamped her teeth onto her tongue, and looked down at her shoes instead.

“It’s time I moved on.” Ulf sounded apologetic as he gave Janna his reasons. “The fair’s over now. I’ve stayed as long as I can, but the townsfolk have had all they want from me. I can’t earn enough for my keep any longer. I must move on to London for the winter.”

Not able to say what she really wanted to, Janna fought back tears.

“I’ll come back again in the spring, I promise.” Ulf patted her arm again. “Will you still be here, or do you go to Normandy with your father?”

“I’ll be here.” On that point, at least, Janna was suddenly quite sure. “I’m going to stay here in England. I have things I still need to do.”

Ulf nodded. “Then I’ll look for you here. And if not here, then…?”

“Wiltune,” Janna said quickly, thinking where her quest for justice might take her, if her father proved amenable. “Or I might be at Babestoche. Or a manor farm near Wicheford.” Hugh’s manor farm, where Godric was in service to his liege lord. Hugh’s manor farm where she would
not
be made welcome by his wife. How could she go there?

How could she go anywhere if her father insisted she come to Normandy with the family? She would have no choice but to obey him if he did. Discouraged, she shook her head. “I don’t know where I’ll be,” she confessed. On impulse, she threw her arms around Ulf and gave him a hug. “I shall miss you so much!”

“As I’ll miss you, lass. But I’ll find you again, come spring. I promise.” Ulf’s eyes were suspiciously moist. He gave a small sniff, then toed Brutus with his boot. “Come on, you lazy mutt,” he said brusquely, and set off, waving a hand in farewell as he went.

Janna stared after him. What was supposed to have been a day of triumph had turned as bitter as gall. And the day was not yet over, for there was still so much more she had to face.

The bells had stopped ringing. Mindful of her father waiting for her at the cathedral, she picked up her skirts and began to run. No matter that she was supposed to be a lady now, there was no-one to see her. She rounded the corner and glanced quickly about, and saw that those who had recently attended the mass were spilling out in search of refreshment and other diversions. No-one to see her whose opinion she valued, she amended. As she ran on toward her father, her words came back to her.
Wiltune
.
Babestoche
.
The manor farm near Wicheford
. Her thoughts began to spin with possibilities. She
must
persuade her father to see things her way. If she could only see Godric again, and introduce him to her father, what might happen then?