Oxford Shadows (18 page)

His eyes caressed her elegant neckline, the soft curves of her shoulders … there was nothing remotely trashy about Madison. He knew how deeply the prospect of tonight had worried her and how long she had agonized over the choice of dress, issues Madison didn’t usually think about. But she had wanted to look her best. For him.

The knowledge triggered a giddy, fuzzy feeling inside him. He shook himself and slid his hand onto the small of her back. Gently, he pulled her toward him and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. The floral scent of her hair triggered the memory of their make-out session an hour earlier.

Sex had never been this good. He had to clear his throat and pray for the material of his trousers to be … resistant enough.

Madison picked up on his temporary discomfort. She leaned against him and whispered, “Need some support?”

“You’re getting cheeky, you are.”

“I’m sorry about asking you to do it without protection … you know, the other morning.” Madison blushed, which was very rare. “You know I’m clear.”

Rupert enlaced his fingers with hers. “I don’t want you to worry about it either. I’ve always used condoms. Even with Harriet.” Madison grimaced at the mention of his ex. “I get tested twice a year, and you were the only other girl since the last test. As far as the other potential outcome, I want you to know …” Because Madison had cast her gaze downward, he cradled her face and forced her to look back at him. “I want you to know that I won’t let you down.”

The truth was that the crazy thought of a baby didn’t even scare the shit out of him. A baby with Madison. She had gone pale, and he realized she was probably giving serious thought to that possibility for the first time.

To chase the heavy topic away, he teased, “Anyway, I wonder what Louise would have to say about your new life of sin.”

Her glaze clouded and she bit her lower lip.
Shit.
He shouldn’t bring up her aunt. He knew something had happened between Madison and the nun, and between Madison and Jackson, but she refused to discuss it. And nor had she explained where she’d been the night he’d knocked at her door and she hadn’t been in her room. At almost two A.M. He wanted to know, but she’d be the one to tell. He knew she would in her own time. In the meantime, he had to trust her.

Normally, Rupert wasn’t going to fight in Jackson’s corner. Still, if he had to choose and pick the villain in the story, it would be dear Auntie Louise. Without a doubt. He didn’t care much for that woman. He resented the deliberate hold she had on her niece. Now McCain’s accusations might be pushing the paranoia too far.

“I have another present for you,” Madison announced, looking up at him through her thick eyelashes.

Rupert stared back toward the paneled door of the ballroom as a quick exit way. “You started late but, good Lord, you’re catching up.”

She slapped his torso again and threw him a reproachful pout. “Not
that
kind of present, you perv.”

“You mean no more skimpy lacy number?”

Madison scanned their immediate surroundings for any eavesdropping guests. “Hush. Seriously, someone’s going to report me to your father. I really don’t want to look cheap.”

He wanted to argue again about her fears, but she continued. “Seeing as you liked Cajun food so much when you came to Louisiana, well, I thought I’d commit to cook you some once a week until the end of term. What do you think?” She cocked her eyebrow, waiting for him to answer.

Looking at her, like that, so eager to make him happy in simple ways like preparing good home-cooked food … it reached places in his heart and in his soul he didn’t know existed. A lump formed in his throat and he struggled to speak.

“I’d like that. I’d like that very much.” A smile brightened her face. “That means you’re committed to an overnight stay at my place at least once a week.”

“Well, about that …” Her voice trailed off. “Is your offer still on?”

“Which offer?”

“For me to come and spend more time with you … at your place … on a more permanent basis.” Rupert failed to hide his surprise and she rushed her words. “If you’ve changed your mind about me moving in, don’t worry. I totally under—”

His hand grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her against him, crushing his lips against hers. She tasted of champagne, of vanilla, of all the sweet flavors his senses now associated with Madison. When he released her, her face was a study in surprise. Her eyes had widened and betrayed the desire burning inside her.

“Thank you,” he said in a rasp before he felt a grin breaking out on his face.

“For what?”

“For trusting me … for taking the risk … for loving me.”

“You might be the one taking the biggest risk. I’m very messy.”

“Bullshit. Your study books are arranged in alphabetical order on your shelves and your socks are color coded, so no worries on that front. Can you move next week?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“Hmm.” The clearing of a throat nearby interrupted their exchange.

Rupert resented the interruption, but the man was attending a cocktail party,
his
birthday party, so he detached his gaze from Madison’s heart-shaped face and faked a smile. A striking middle-aged man was extending his hand toward him. Rupert took it by reflex. The man’s grasp was firm.

“I’m happy to see you again, Rupert.”

“So am I, sir.”
When have I met this guy?

A teasing light sparkled in the eyes of the guest. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Rupert knew he should have. The man didn’t have a physique you could easily forget. Although he was of medium height and medium build, his confident stance radiated charisma.

“Don’t worry about it,” the man reassured Rupert with humor. “I caught you at a busy time that day. After the boat race? In the boat house?”

Synapses connected in Rupert’s brain. “Mr. Ball … antyne. I’m very sorry.”

“Albert, please,” he responded, his words touched by a warm New York twang.

Albert Ballantyne was an Oxford friend of Hugo’s, another banker-slash-businessman. Embarrassment made Rupert shuffle his feet. The first time he had met Ballantyne he hadn’t been pleasant. Madison had come to see him after the race to say goodbye before returning to the States and there was no way Rupert was going to lose her. He had met Ballantyne on his way to catching up with her. And now the steel-blue gaze of Albert Ballantyne had shifted toward Rupert’s girlfriend and wouldn’t budge.

“Albert, this is Madison LeBon.” And because the man seemed absorbed in gazing at the pretty brunette at Rupert’s side, he made a point of adding, “She’s my girlfriend.”

Madison shook Ballantyne’s hand and the man nodded while keeping hold of her longer than necessary. Rupert thought he saw a muscle twitching at the corner of the man’s eye. Would he have to kick the ass of every man who crossed Madison’s path? It was getting repetitive, and the guy was in his late forties, for Christ’s sake.

Ballantyne shoved his hands back in the pockets of his black trousers. He was about to start talking but a waiter interrupted sheepishly.

“Mr. Vance, your father requests your presence in his study.”

Why Hugo paid for extravagant parties if he always ended up retreating into his cave was beyond Rupert.

“I’m sorry, Albert. It seems like I always have to disappear shortly after seeing you. I really don’t do it on purpose.”

“Don’t worry, my boy.”

Rupert gave a quick bow and was about to leave Madison with the New Yorker when her hand entwined with his and she started following him. When they had reached a safe distance from Ballantyne, he couldn’t help teasing her.

“I thought you could fend for yourself.”

Madison tucked her head down between her shoulders. “I said hello … and I need to freshen up.” She stopped in front of the powder room. “I’ll take a quick walk outside. Come and join me once you’ve had your ‘chat’ with your dad.”

She was holding the doorknob. He gave a last look at her bare shoulders and the swan-like line of her body in the long black evening dress. With an effort, he tore himself from her.

The May night air was chilly but dry. Dry was an adjective Madison hadn’t used a lot since her arrival in England. It wasn’t the humidity she had grown up with back in Louisiana, but a cold wetness instead. She looked back at the dazzling lights of the party inside Magway’s ballroom. Camilla hadn’t spared any effort or cost. Whether or not the occasion had really been in Rupert’s honor, Madison was glad they had come together. But as much as she wanted to try and fit into Rupert’s world, she needed a break.

She entered the stone path that led to the small lake in Magway’s grounds. Since her first visit here, when Rupert had taken her to research his family archive, she had wanted to admire the still pool of water. She had never had the chance, though. There were swans and ducks, Rupert had told her. Tonight the animals would be sleeping, but she could enjoy the full moon.

Torches had been lightened around the manor and the flames eased her way through the night. One step at a time, the music and the voices of the guests faded away and were replaced by the night’s melody.

Holding up the material of her—stupidly expensive—evening gown to avoid tripping on its hem, Madison approached the wooden jetty that extended into the waters of the lake. As she had hoped, the moonlight bathed the landscape in its silvery glitter. The view wrapped her in a comforting blanket, as did the quiet lapping of the water on the shore.

With abandon Madison released a heavy breath and the tension of the evening with it, only for the next breath to get trapped inside her before having reached her lungs.

Ahead of her, standing on the end of the dock, Liliana stared straight back at her.

25

THE PALE MATERIAL of Liliana’s nightgown clung to her body as if gusts of wind were blowing in the night. But there was no wind. The air was still.

Madison shut her eyes and rapidly opened them again. The woman hadn’t moved and her gaze kept drilling through the mental defenses Madison had erected around herself. She wasn’t ready to see this, to meet her. Not tonight.

The thought of Camilla and the baby sprang in front of her. They were running out of time. And there, ten feet away from her, Madison had the answers to all her questions.

“Who are you?”

“You already know.” Liliana’s voice was clear of any Italian accent. She spoke in plain English.

“Your name, yes. But I don’t understand what happened to you. He never came back for you? Henry?”

Her question hit the olive-skinned woman harshly because she startled. “He didn’t. In that lifetime. He married another, the only one he really loved.”

“But then you found each other again. You had a child together.” Hope seeped through Madison’s question.

“We did … but that wasn’t meant to be. Again.”

“You got married. I know that. In Oxford, not that long ago.”

The ghost joined her hands tightly in front of herself, while the nonexistent wind kept ruffling the dark mass of her hair. She looked exactly like the young Florentine girl Madison had seen in her visions of Henry. Not one day older. How Liliana had looked in her other lifetime, Madison couldn’t say. And in her vision of the couple in twentieth-century Oxford, Madison had only seen the blurred features of Henry.

“You must not get involved, child.”

The order unsettled Madison. Surely Liliana would want to keep Henry from hurting another woman. “I have no choice,” she said. “He threatened people I know, an unborn child, a baby girl. I’ve ignored warnings like that in the past. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“Don’t you value your own life?” Liliana’s words fell harshly between them.

The woman didn’t understand. “Please help me. They’re innocent.”

A thick fog rose and whirled around Liliana. Madison smelled the putrid stench of tepid waters, and disgust made her nostrils flare. Liliana rotated her body slightly as if to start retreating.

“There are so many questions I want to ask you. Please stay,” Madison pleaded.

“Save yourself while you still can. That is not your story.” Liliana turned her back on Madison and vanished into the heavy mist.

A cry of despair erupted from Madison. “Liliana,” she begged.

Desperation burst out of her heart and propelled her toward where the woman had stood. Madison rushed into the fog, her sight blurred. Fear replaced anger and her mouth turned dry. Ignoring her weakness, Madison ran forward, calling after the ghost again.

“Come back. Please, come back.”

She hurried forward, breaking into a run to reach the place where Liliana had stood, struggling with the hem of the dress dangling at her feet. She tripped on it and collapsed forward. She expected to crash against the surface of the ground. She didn’t. The freezing waters of the lake swallowed her instead.

The Tower of London ~ 19 May 1536

Henry hid within the bloodthirsty crowd. The people weren’t aware of his presence, at least not as their king. His disguise kept him unnoticed. He had to come. He had to witness her death. There was no choice for him since the madness had taken possession of him. He could not control the brutal waves of emotion that dictated what his next action would be. Perhaps it was God whispering jealousy in his ear, murmuring the accusations.
Adultery. Incest.