Read Janna Mysteries 1 & 2 Bindup for Free Online Page B

requested, but once they were gathered her mind returned to her grievances. Why would her mother not speak of her father? Was it sorrow that kept her tight-lipped, or was it the shame of bearing a daughter out of wedlock? Janna knew her mother’s lips would stay stubbornly closed unless she could come up with some new strategy to persuade her to unlock the secrets of her heart. Could she perhaps threaten to go elsewhere for information? Who might know the truth?
    Her mind ranged over possibilities. They were few indeed. Her mother had no close friends, no-one in whom she might confide if she would not confide in her daughter. For the first time it occurred to Janna how lonely her mother must be. Where was her own family? She didn’t think Eadgyth had always lived here, on the edge of the forest, yet this place was all Janna could remember, so her mother must surely have come here before giving birth. That being so, people might have seen or heard something, might remember something of that time. If so, why had they never spoken? Had her mother sworn everyone to secrecy? Who was she trying to protect? Her daughter – or herself? Janna knew that Eadgyth was proud, and that she kept her secrets well. Yet if Janna was now old enough to marry, she was surely old enough to be told the truth!
    Janna rushed indoors, determined to try out this new argument.
    She found Eadgyth, cheeks flushed from the rising steam, stirring a concoction over the fire. Absorbed in her task, she was humming quietly to herself. The tune was familiar to Janna. It sounded rather solemn and sad. She’d once asked Eadgyth to teach her the song, but her mother had silenced her with a sharp look and an angry refusal. Janna had never asked again, thinking there must be something shameful in the practice for Eadgyth had looked so guilty when caught. Yet she’d heard her mother sing the tune several times since; it seemed that Eadgyth sang only when she was preoccupied with something else.
    ‘Tell me about my father.’ Janna dumped the herbs in front of her mother. ‘You say I’m old enough to marry, so that makes me old enough to know the truth about my birth.’
    Startled, Eadgyth stopped humming and glared at her daughter. ‘I haven’t got time for another argument. The lady will be coming shortly. You must go now.’
    ‘I still have to feed the hens and goats.’
    ‘I’ll do it.’ Eadgyth jerked her thumb in the direction of the door. ‘I want your promise that you’ll not linger to watch, but that you will go directly about the business I have given you, and speak to no-one of my business back here.’ She eyed her defiant daughter, and sighed. ‘As well as visiting the miller, you have my permission to walk on to Wiltune. Today is market day. Take the beeswax candles and some of my special scented creams and rinses to sell there. They’ll fetch a few pennies, so you may buy a hot pie for your dinner. I don’t want you to leave Wiltune until you hear the abbey bells ring the hour of nones.’
    Janna’s face brightened. Going to the market was a rare treat, even if she knew her mother’s offer stemmed from a need to keep her away for most of the day. ‘I don’t want to argue with you. I just want you to tell me my father’s name,’ she said, refusing to be diverted from her purpose. She avoided her mother’s eye, instead collecting up the goods she would sell and setting them carefully in a woven basket. She hoped that the beeswax stoppers were thick and tight enough to prevent the precious liquids from leaking out but, to make sure, she wedged fat scented candles around them to keep them in place. All the while, she waited for her mother to speak, but Eadgyth remained silent. Janna hefted the strap over her shoulder. The basket was heavy but she would carry it without protest, so long as her mother gave her something in return. Determined not to leave without an answer, she confronted Eadgyth.
    ‘There may not be time to talk now,