“Like Isabel, you too became pregnant,” Janna reminded Cecily, who had turned her face away as soon as Janna raised the subject. Janna could see that she was upset, and trying to hide it, but she pressed on. “But you were luckier than Isabel. You survived, even though Robert tried to get you out of the way too – with a bottle of poisoned wine. The wine you gave to my mother. The wine that killed her.”
“But I had no knowledge that the wine was poisoned.” Cecily turned her tear-stained face to Janna. “I’m so sorry that it happened, but it wasn’t my fault. It was Robert’s doing.”
“Yes. And that’s what I want you to tell Dame Alice and my father.”
“I can’t!” Cecily drew back, tears forgotten as she faced this new threat. “I asked you before not to meddle, Janna. I begged you! You know that it would jeopardize my chance of marrying Godric and our future together attending Sire Hugh and his wife.”
“Godric is not going to marry you, Cecily.” Janna was remorseless in her determination to make Cecily tell the truth. “If you wish to wed, you must look elsewhere. But I want my father to know the truth about my mother’s death, and why Robert was responsible for it. It’s time for Robert to be called to account for everything he’s done. But that won’t happen unless you add your evidence against him. I should tell you that Dame Alice already knows that her husband stabbed Isabel to prevent her pregnancy becoming known.”
“Stabbed? But I thought she – ”
“Dame Alice also knows that her husband has had several other liaisons, including his dalliance with you.”
“She knows about me?” Aghast, Cecily jumped up from the stool on which she’d been sitting, and began to pace the room.
“Why do you think she sent you to stay with Hugh? And why do you think she did not ask you to return?”
“I never meant to hurt the dame.” Now Cecily was wringing her hands as she paced. “You know that I loved Robert, and that I acted in good faith that he would treat me honorably.”
“I expect he told all his mistresses the same thing,” Janna said dryly.
“But it’s even worse than that. I know how the dame longs to conceive and bear another child. I can’t tell her…I can’t let her know…” Cecily gulped, and began to cry again.
Janna watched her, feeling sympathy for her distress although she was still determined to have her way. “She’s already had to face that knowledge with Isabel.”
“I don’t want her thinking badly of me, any more so than she does already.” Cecily wiped away her tears and faced Janna. “You say Godric won’t marry me, but I know that he can’t marry you. Our future lies with Sire Hugh, and once you are gone again you can be sure that I’ll do everything in my power to change Godric’s mind. You can’t ask me to risk my home and my only chance of happiness by saying things that will only cause great harm and misery to everyone. It’s best to forget the past, Janna, when the future shines so bright.”
“Best for everyone – except me and my father, Cecily,” Janna said tartly, furious at the implied threat behind Cecily’s words. “I will speak, even if you won’t. I’ve waited a long time to bring my mother’s killer to justice and I will have him publicly condemned for his deed – with or without your help.” Even though she knew she was justified in her demands, nevertheless she felt some unease at achieving her goal at Cecily’s expense. And it seemed that she’d made a new enemy as a result, for Cecily’s face hardened in anger.
“By your leave, my lady,” she said coldly, and hastened out of the room without waiting for Janna’s reply.
Chapter 9
As soon as Janna was healed enough to ride without discomfort, her father ordered Robert to be taken to Wiltune under guard. He would be tried before the abbess who, as liege lord of her realm, had the power to dispense justice within it. Janna had warned her father that Cecily still refused to tell the truth about what had happened to her, but he had only pursed his lips and said, “You can leave that young woman to me.” And so, traveling in the party were also Dame Alice and Cecily, along with Hugh and Godric. Aldith came too, to look after Janna.
Janna felt awkward riding alongside her father at the head of the train, and wished she could ride with Godric and Hugh, or even with Cecily, so that she could try one last time to persuade her to speak out. She wondered if Cecily was even now trying to win Godric to her side and glanced behind her. Yes, they were riding close together, the pair of them, and deep in conversation. She turned her face forward, determined not to let either of them see how upset and fearful she was.
It didn’t help that she was welcomed back to Wiltune by William of Marsford, who came rushing across from the king’s quarters at the gatehouse to greet her when they turned into the yard of the abbey’s guest quarters. As soon as she’d dismounted, he bowed before her and seized hold of her hand to bestow a kiss. Janna cringed, sure that Godric and Cecily would be watching closely.
Richildis had also hurried out into the yard. Janna wondered if she’d spent all her time watching out for them while they’d been away, and felt a twinge of pity for the young girl. Richildis waited until her father had finished making arrangements for Robert to be held under guard in the abbey before casting herself into his arms. “I hate it here!” she sobbed. “That Sister Anne is making me work like the worst sort of servant.”
Janna smothered a grin and went back to trying to discourage the attentions of her intended husband. But he would not listen to her hints, until finally she was obliged to tell him that the journey had exhausted her and she must rest. Fortunately, Aldith was close by and wasted no time in escorting Janna to the bedchamber that had been prepared for her use.
In view of the urgency of the matter, the abbess had agreed to preside over an informal court at the abbey, with the king present to make sure that justice was done. While arrangements were under way for Robert to be tried, including a search for those who might speak out in his favor as well as those who would bear witness to his crimes, Janna’s father asked Sister Ursel to add an extra passage to his last will and testament that would make known his intention to leave all his property in England to his daughter and her husband.
When she found out what he was about, Janna had a quiet and private word with Sister Ursel as to the exact wording of the passage. “Is it about my proposed marriage to William? Has my father named him as my husband?” she demanded, as soon as she could get Sister Ursel on her own.
Sister Ursel nodded. “Yes. He’s made his intentions very clear to me, Janna.” She blushed, looking suddenly flustered. “M-my apologies. I should have called you m-m-my lady.”
“You must call me Janna,” Janna insisted, concerned to notice how Sister Ursel’s stammer returned when she felt uncertain. She patted the nun’s arm to reassure her, and hastily snatched back her hand when she recalled that touching was frowned on in the abbey.
“Janna.” Sister Ursel relaxed and her face broke into a beaming smile. “I am so p-pleased you’ve succeeded in finding your father. It must be a great comfort to you. And, of course, you’re going to be a very w-wealthy woman one day.”
“But I hope my father will live for a long, long time!”
“Of course.” Sister Ursel was quick to agree. “It touches my heart to see the love he bears for you. That you bear for each other.” She leaned closer to Janna. “But that other daughter of his has been touched by the d-devil,” she said seriously.
“Why? What has Richildis done?”
“Tears and tantrums when you left. And d-downright insubordination when our infirmarian asks for her help with anything. I swear, Sister Anne is at her wits’ end as to how to deal with her.” Ursel clapped a hand to her mouth. “I shouldn’t have said ‘swear,’” she apologized.
Janna grinned. “Richildis is enough to make anyone curse,” she agreed. “But she’s looking better. She seems to be eating properly again.”
“Like a little pig – except when her father’s around,” Ursel said shrewdly. “If you ask m
e, this starving herself is a bid to capture his attention, and to come first in his care. She’s very j-jealous of you, Janna. You should take care in your dealings with her.”
“I know.” Janna was kind enough not to share with Ursel the lengths to which Richildis had already gone to discredit her in the eyes of her father and his family. Instead, she cut back to her main concern. “Sister Ursel, could I ask you for a favor?”
“Of course. Anything!” The nun’s promise was heartfelt. Janna remembered the stolen pages from Ursel’s beautifully illuminated manuscript of St Edith’s life and how she’d solved the mystery of their disappearance. She must remember to ask the nun to show her how the work progressed. But first things first.
“Instead of naming William of Marsford, could you just write ‘husband’ and leave it at that?”
“But your father’s made his wishes most clear.” Sister Ursel looked troubled.
“It may be my father’s wish, but it’s not mine.” Janna hesitated, wondering whether it was wise to confide in the nun. “I love Sire Hugh’s steward, Godric, with all my heart. He’s the man I wish to marry.”
“And does he love you?”
“Yes.”
“But your father will not permit the match?”
“No.” Janna gave a strained smile. “Even though I know my own mind, there are two men whom I still have to convince.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Ursel promised.
But Ursel’s effort ended in failure, for John noticed the missing words at once and, speaking over her stammered apologies, ordered her to add them. And so it was that when Janna, in company with her father and Richildis, presented herself once more to the king, William was named as her husband in her father’s last will and testament.
Janna was relieved that, this time, the bishop was absent from the gathering. Yet it seemed he’d had more than enough time to convey his suspicions, for there was no doubt in her mind that the king’s manner had changed since they’d last met. Although he welcomed Richildis into his presence, he seemed cool once he turned his attention to Janna and her father. Perhaps sensing trouble ahead, John made a flattering speech before handing over the amended document to the king. Stephen scanned the parchment briefly, and frowned at John. “I see no provision here for your wife and your other children,” he said sternly. “I would need to be satisfied that they, too, will be looked after.”
John frowned. “My liege,” he said. Janna could sense his anger at having to explain himself to his cousin. “They will inherit my property and a sizable fortune in Normandy. I was not aware that I needed your permission to witness my intentions across the water.”
It was a sharp reminder to the king of his misfortune in losing Normandy to Geoffrey of Anjou, the empress’s husband. And it was clear from Stephen’s thunderous expression that he did not value the reminder. “Tell me something,” he said sharply. “When you came to me at Oxeneford, did you bring your eldest daughter with you?”
Janna’s heart sank. She sneaked a sideways glance at her father, wondering if he’d tell his cousin and king the truth. Just how much did Stephen know – or suspect? John’s face had flushed somewhat, but he answered, after only a slight pause, “Yes, my liege. She came with me.”
“The nuns at Godstow Abbey gave me shelter in my father’s absence, sire, while he came into Oxeneford to pay his respects to you,” Janna said hastily. It was almost the truth, after all.
“She bears a remarkable resemblance to your half-sister. My enemy, the empress.” The king frowned at Janna, taking her measure. She wondered if he was thinking back to an icy winter’s night when the empress was seen abroad yet somehow managed to escape the king’s troops.
“But the color of my hair is quite different, sire,” she said quickly. “I am fair like my mother, who was a Saxon woman.”
Stephen grunted and turned back to John. “Leave this document with me,” he said. “I need to make further enquiries about…several matters.” His eyes were bright with suspicion as he watched them take their leave.
Janna wondered if he’d worked out the possibility of her deception for himself, or if he and the bishop had shared information to help him arrive at the truth. She was fairly sure that there was a real purpose behind both his question and his observation.
Richildis, while unaware of the real reason behind Stephen’s prevarication, was quick to put on it her own interpretation. “He’s much more interested in doing right by my mother and our family than rewarding a nobody like you,” she said gleefully, once their father had left them alone in the yard. “He won’t witness Papa’s document because he thinks you’re not worthy of William.”
“I don’t think I’m worthy of William either,” Janna snapped, anxious to silence her. The girl was as persistent and annoying as a midge in summer.
“You’re not worthy of having a noble husband at all!” Richildis placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the crowded yard. The abbey’s servants had been busy collecting produce from outlying properties, bringing it in from barns to the undercroft within the abbey so as to provide for the king and his army, those unwelcome guests who now occupied the gatehouse and who needed board as well as beds. Merchants came and went, everyone from the lowliest faggot seller to rich craftsmen hoping to interest the king and his barons in the goods they brought with them for sale.
Janna stiffened as she watched Hugh traverse the yard, followed closely by Godric. It seemed they were on their way to the stables. Seeing Janna, Hugh checked and started toward them. Godric plucked at his sleeve, perhaps with the idea of dissuading him, but Hugh kept on. With pounding heart, Janna stared at Godric. And Richildis watched her, watched them both, while her lips curled into a spiteful sneer.
“My lady. Johanna,” Hugh greeted her. Godric bobbed his head but said nothing.
“Hello, Hugh. Richildis, this is Sire Hugh and his steward, Godric. My half-sister, Richildis.”
Richildis made no response, just surveyed the two men with a scornful expression. Then she pointed at Godric. “You should be marrying someone lowly like him, not a baron like William of Marsford,” she told Janna.
A rush of shock and shame swept over Janna, rendering her speechless. But Hugh had sized up the situation and was quick to respond. “Godric would make an excellent husband for any woman, my lady. Even for someone like you.” Janna wondered if Richildis recognized his words for the insult she was sure was intended. She gazed at Godric in mute apology. And Richildis saw that too.
“But she’s betrothed to William now,” she said. “My father has seen to it.” She smiled with bitter amusement. “My half-sister is to wed a man twice her age, who’s already been wed before and has several brats to show for it.”
Richildis’s cruelty took Janna’s breath away. Still she stayed silent, registering the shock on the faces of the men in front of her.
“My – my congratulations on your betrothal, my lady.” Hugh cleared his throat. “I have met William of Marsford. He is a fine…soldier.”
Still Godric said nothing. After an awkward pause, Hugh took his leave and the two men set off in the direction of the stables. Janna turned on Richildis as soon as they were out of earshot.
“You little hellspawn!”
“Why? What have I done?” The girl’s voice was full of whining self-pity, but a gleam in her eyes told Janna she knew exactly the mischief she had caused.
“Go to hell, and may the devil keep you company!” Janna stamped away, keen to put as much distance as possible between her and her half-sister.
“I’ll tell my father on you!”
Janna ignored the shouted threat and kept going, thinking that Sister Ursel was closer to the truth than she’d realized. Indeed, the girl seemed to have been touched by the devil. So much malice and spite! Where once she’d felt sorry for Richildis, now she felt only aggravation and a desperate wish that her father would send the girl home, and take himself with her.
Finding him had caused so many probl
ems. Her heart and future happiness were in jeopardy because of her father. And yet she knew that the promise of having her own home in Winchestre was enough for her to want to keep him on side, for the future she longed for was inextricably tied up with the property there. But overlying all other considerations was the fact that she’d come to genuinely care for him as a daughter should for her father.
She felt bereft as she recalled Richildis’s spiteful remark, and the shock it had caused. And yet, if she could not have Godric, perhaps she should please her father and agree to the match? After all, what other choice did she have? But every instinct rebelled against it. In her heart, Janna knew that asking Ursel to omit the name of her husband on the testament had been with the last, desperate hope that she might persuade John to her way of thinking. All Janna wanted to do now was weep for the past, for everything she’d thrown away when she’d dismissed Godric so carelessly from her life. This, now, was her future. Marriage to a man she did not love; passing from her father’s control into the control of a husband she didn’t know and certainly didn’t care about.
Was it really too late? Janna’s tears checked as she considered the question. As Richildis had so gleefully pointed out, the king had not yet ratified her father’s wishes on the matter of a husband. And until the deed was done, there must always be hope. It was a flicker of comfort to set against the cold dread that had settled on her heart.
*
But her problems were not yet over for, true to her word, Richildis continued with her mischief-making. The first intimation Janna had of the problem was John’s request for a private word with her after they’d broken their fast the next day.
“I think it was not a good idea to bring Richildis to Wiltune,” he said, as he steered her out to the abbey’s gardens and the orchard beyond. “Sister Anne tells me she has not settled here; that she is rude and insubordinate.”
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