Oxford Whispers (7 page)

Chapter
13

RUPERT HAD ESTABLISHED his Oxford headquarters at the well-hidden Turf Tavern, right from the first day of his first term. A couple of decades earlier his parents had met there, around the low-beamed front bar.

Today, after winning a boat race, he crashed in exhaustion at the pub with Claus—his “best mate” now after today’s victory—and other Oxford rowers. Surrounded by a crowd of students and the smell of stale beer, Rupert recovered from the afternoon’s inhuman experience.

“Another bitter?” asked one of his teammates with a pronounced Aussie accent.

Nodding, Rupert leaned against the bar to release the pressure on his battered legs. He needed alcohol to dull the pain, even if drinking breached Coach Bartlett’s orders.

He would have died rather than show his weakness to the giants standing on either side of him. The hours spent on the blonds and runs in the cold had all paid off. He wasn’t sure he could keep up with the training. But tonight, pride made him stand taller. His victory would make his father happy.

Madison would arrive soon. The thought of her pint-sized frame standing next to him cheered him up. Rupert hadn’t imagined teamwork with the Yank would go so smoothly. Since her visit at Magway two weeks ago her help had come in handy; he could dedicate his time to training.

He had promised her he would arrange a meeting with Archie Blake, his family’s genealogist, once the guy was back from traveling in the States. In exchange, she’d kept her promise about McCain and convinced the professor they worked fine together. Which was true.

With his Internet connection down at home, she’d even agreed to bring him the memory stick with her part of their weekly assignment.

“Look at this pretty little thing,” Claus said, leering over Rupert’s shoulder.

Following his gaze, Rupert turned his head and saw Madison heading toward him. She made him more breathless than the race. Her black hair circled the heart-shaped face he had grown familiar with. The December wind had colored her che
eks. She looked him straight in the eye and flashed a smile.

“Hey.” Rupert had meant to welcome her, but his tone had fallen flat. The girl had an effect on his vocal cords, in addition to many other places in his body.

“Good evening. I’m Claus, Rupert’s
friend.” The Dane had already shoved Rupert aside and extended his hand to Madison.

It was too late for Rupert to interrupt. Madison had seized the paw and introduced herself. Taking the gesture further, Claus brought her fingers to his lips and gave her hand a ridiculous theatrical kiss.

What the fu—?

Madison shifted on her feet. Taking back her hand, she hid it inside the pocket of her duffel coat. Rupert stepped closer to her and surrounded her with his body.

“Would you like a drink?” the Australian asked, competing with Claus for Alpha Male of the Year.

Hands off, you moron.

“I’m meeting my friends here. I just have something to give to Rupert.” She didn’t seem aware of her effect and handed Rupert the little flash drive. He grabbed it and their fingers brushed. He felt heat. Their eyes locked.

As quickly as she’d arrived, she passed him and sat at a corner table next to her bespectacled friend, Oliver. Rupert wanted to lodge himself between the two of them, even if Pippa Connelly was at their table too. The girl gave him the creeps.

“Is he her boyfriend?” asked the Australian, staring at the guy sitting next to Madison.

“No.” Or maybe the nerd was. Rupert had never asked her any personal questions. “She’s not one-night-stand material anyway. So forget it.” He wasn’t going to leave Madison as fair game for the alphas.

“Tell me she’s coming to your Christmas party next week.” Claus ignored his warning.

“No. Well, I haven’t asked her.”

“Come on, man. For your teammates.” Claus joined his hands in a fake praying clasp.

“No problem,” Rupert conceded. The idea of seeing Madison outside of their work assignments brightened his thoughts.

Pippa left the table and paraded past Claus and Tyler on her way to the entrance door.

Once she had left the pub, Rupert said, “Her ginger friend is much friendlier, though, if you see what I mean.” He wanted to draw their dirty minds away from Madison.

“I don’t care. That American girl is what I need.”

Rupert brought his pint of beer to his lips, keeping his hands busy. Claus had always grated on his nerves, but now he wanted to punch the arsehole’s arrogant excuse of a face.

Attractive or not, Madison LeBon wasn’t for Rupert. Even if he tried to be a better man, he wouldn’t ever be enough for her.

She was
not
for him.

AN HOUR AFTER Madison had sat down with Ollie, she saw Rupert stumbling out of the Turf. His so-called friends had let him leave, even if the dude was totally rat-assed.

She mumbled an apology to Ollie, and throwing her duffel coat over her shoulders followed in Rupert’s footsteps. He had found his way along St. Helen’s Passage, the narrow winding alley next to the old city wall leading away from the pub. He held his arms against his chest, as if any movements would tear at his muscles.

“Hate rowing. Hate my father,” she heard him mumble.

Madison didn’t know if she should help him. The guy was grown up.

He looked shit-faced though. She was about to retrace her steps and go back to Ollie when Rupert shouted. Her heart missed a beat. A silhouette, blurred by a cape, covered Rupert’s body, pinning him to the ground.

She couldn’t let anyone hurt Rupert. She had to fight for him. She had to save him. Just like Sarah had saved Robert. So long ago.

Chapter
14

Oxford
–
June 1650

TWILIGHT SETS THE sky ablaze.

I welcome the sight of the rundown barn with infinite relief. After stealing the oldest of my father’s horses, I had to lead it through the darkening woods, all the time looking behind to make sure I was not being followed. I cannot afford to fail at my efforts. Robert’s life is at stake.

My audacity has succeeded in protecting him to this moment, but luck might turn against us.

Three weeks ago, when Peter went for a physician and for other bloodthirsty men, I carried the Cavalier to a hidden barn and tucked him in amid the hay and sacks of grain. When I returned to the oak tree I was out of breath from pushing and shoving his almost-dead weight. I told Peter and the authorities that the Royalist had threatened me with a dagger and escaped. I did not have to feign fear and shock, for I was scared they would not believe my lies.

Finally, after weeks of devoted care, I have brought my Cavalier back to near health. This is a miracle given the limited means at my disposal. Now he must leave. How much I’d like to keep him close … But his safety has to prevail over my desires.

I open the gate of the barn, making it squeak. When Digby the horse is in, I return the latch to its place.

“Robert, Robert,” I call.

The dusty, sweet smell of hay infuses my nostrils. Digby swishes his tail and huffs. Behind the cobwebs in the back corner I see the blond crown of Robert’s hair. He gives me the tenderest of smiles, and my resolution falters.

Please, My Lord, do not make us part forever.

“You succeeded.” He nods toward Digby with admiration, not for the horse itself but for my successful stealing. “Walking alone in the night is too dangerous. I cannot keep putting you at risk.”

How sweet my Cavalier is. He does not look like a nobleman anymore, at least he’s not dressed like one. Samples of my petty thefts adorn his person: a floppy, broad-brimmed hat in his hand; full breeches and doublets; and a buff coat, probably too warm for the season.

“Once you have gone I will go back to my eventless life, so do not worry about me.” I force humor into my quip, but my eyes betray how close I am to tears.

“How will I be able to write to you? This maid of yours, can I address my courier to her?”

Everything in him, even his way of speaking, separates him from me.

“You should not worry about me.” Bravado lifts my chin.

“Sarah, I cannot bear the thought of not seeing you again.” He has seized my hands and brings them to his mouth for a kiss.

I must not cry, not until he disappears in the dark, forever. He must keep my smile as a memory, not my tears.

“It is time for you to go.” I open the gate, and he leads Digby back outside, the animal oblivious of the tension. Digby swishes his tail with happiness.

Around us the deception of night confuses my perception of the world; the colors have changed, and nothing is the same anymore.

“Be careful in the way you speak. Pretend to be simple or mute, if that helps,” I advise.

“You would be a dangerous enemy in this war.”

He does not realize that I
am
his enemy, not by choice, or even conviction, but by birth.

I help him climb onto the horse, as his body is still battered and weakened by his injuries.

Again, we hold hands while he settles. He looks at me and leans forward as much as he can endure the pain.

“We will see each other again. I swear to God, I will come back for you.”

With his hand on my cheek and lowering his head by a few more inches, he lays his lips on mine. The kiss does not last long, but I am irrevocably changed.

He turns the mount around, and with one last glance he promises, “I will kiss you again, Sarah. God is my witness, I will.”

IT HAPPENED FASTER than a knife fight in a phone booth. Madison should have shouted for help, or rushed back to the pub and raised the alarm. But the images of the past had already delayed her response.

Running toward Rupert she warned, “Stop!” And again, “Stop!”

The steel in her voice wasn’t hers; something stronger than her alone was coming through.

The attacker turned his hooded head in her direction and looked back and forth between her and Rupert.

Then she saw the sword, the blade pointed at Rupert’s throat. A storm built in the pit of her stomach, gathering power along her arm and exploding into her right palm. She held the force of a hurricane in her hand.

The ball of flame that sat there burned her skin. She hurled the fireball at the attacker’s head. It hit his chest instead. The fury of the blow lifted him off his feet and carried him through the air to crash against a wall, five feet away.

The shock of t
he moment stole her breath. She blinked at her empty hand.

A groan pulled her out of her trance. Rupert lifted himself and supported his body with his elbow. Her eyes moved from him to the assailant—man, woman or beast, she couldn’t tell.

She stepped for
ward and yelled, “You sick son of a bitch. I’ll knock your teeth down your throat and you’ll spit them out in single fi le.”

The figure jumped to its feet and vanished down the foggy walkway.

“That’s a lot of swearing.” Rupert coughed and ran a hand over
his head.

Madison knelt next to him and helped him to sit up. A bruise was already swelling up blue on his eyelid.

But Rupert was more worried about her health than his. “Are you hurt?” His hand cradled her face and turned it softly toward the faint light dispensed by the streetlight. He checked her out.

Madison wanted to lean against his touch, savor it a bit longer, and pretend she had indeed been hurt.

“You’re the one with the black eye, I’m afraid,” she managed to deliver in a short breath.

“You should have called for help. He could have hurt you.” There was real concern in his voice, and the knowledge made her feel warm inside. “My ego has taken a knocking. I’ve been saved by a girl. How on earth did you manage to push him away?”

Madison, still pretty shaken herself, chuckled. “It’s an American trick.”
An American
voodoo
trick, more like
.

PETER HAD FAILED.

He had wanted to attack the Cavalier by surprise, but Sarah had come to his rescue once again.

This time around the balance of powers had changed. She was able to do things, things Peter would never have thought possible.

Sarah was a witch.

She would be a stronger adversary than she had been before. The outcome would be the same nevertheless.

Chapter
15

ARMS FOLDED around her lower chest, Madison followed the ballet of students and waiters performing at Rupert’s Christmas party. The caterers, carrying silver trays of canapés, ran around like blind dogs in a meathouse.

Not your average student party.

The bitter taste of whiskey and Coke bit her tongue. Madison swallowed three mouthfuls anyway, thirsty for the release alcohol would inject into her bloodstream.

At Yale she had made a few bucks waiting tables for academic parties and weddings. Tonight, she stood on the other side of the fence. Tonight, she was having fun. Allegedly.

A few sips later, she swapped her empty glass for a passing champagne flute but didn’t move from the dark corner of Rupert’s lounge. What had become of her plan to mingle with the hip crowd? To exchange a few words, a sentence maybe, with the host? Instead, she kept thinking about the painting and the Puritan, as if he were lurking around somewhere, never far from her.

She caught a glimpse of Pippa and Ollie, their bodies pivoting on the dance floor in the conservatory. At the last minute, Rupert had invited them too.

Placing her glass back atop a tray, Madison anchored her path on her friends and sidestepped through the dancing crowd. With champagne still cascading down her throat, she was ready to take a risk. And dance.

Before she reached the dance floor, square shoulders blocked her path. Claus, the Dane from the Turf Tavern, barred her way, a thick grin across his vacant face.

“Hello, Beauty. I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said, hands on hips.

“Hi Claus, I’m looking for my friends.” She bypassed the human obstacle, but he grabbed her by the hip and pulled her against his chest.

He started a clumsy swirl, with Madison as his hostage. “Come on, let’s dance.”

In the middle of their second round, another set of hands rescued her from the Dane’s by pulling her away from him. Claus arched his brows upward while his mouth gaped. Madison regained her balance by putting her own hands on those of her savior, on his fingers wrapped around her waist.

“That’s enough, Jensen. The lady has done enough dancing,” Rupert ordered Claus, as if he were dealing with a naughty eight-year-old.

Rupert’s body engulfed her, and her back leaned against his chest and stomach. Through layers of clothing, heat fired up her skin.

He lowered his head so that his chin almost rested on her shoulder, his lips tingling at her ear. “You okay?”

Her eyes moved away from Claus, and she tilted her head toward Rupert. Her mouth a few inches from his, she breathed in the scent of freshly laundered clothes.

Reassuring words having caught in her throat, she smiled at him instead. He made her turn to face him. She stood still in front of Rupert, his hands on her, as if they were dancing.

Good heavenly days.

It wasn’t butterflies in the pit of her stomach, but thousands of hummingbirds that threatened to knock her off her feet. Swallowing hard, she moistened her lips with her tongue. Rupert made her hungry, he made her
want
.

Alarm bells screeched through her brain. What if Rupert had witnessed her powers that night outside the Turf? She stood back and his arms fell to his sides.

“I guess Claus knocked down a shot too many,” she finally mumbled. Adjusting her top, she noticed her heart had now started to beat again.

“Yeah, he’s a bit of a jerk. It was my modest attempt to save
your
life this time. I still can’t believe I was rescued by a girl.”

“Don’t worry. No big deal.”

“Listen, Maddie
,
I’d like to thank you again … for the other night. You didn’t let me down. It means a lot to me …” He stopped and took hold of her hand again, his fingers warm and strong around hers. “More than you can imagine.”

Around her, the music faded away. The bright flashing lights of the dancing floor toned down to become distant halos. Maddie. She hated nicknames, but on Rupert Vance’s lips hers sounded like a title of nobility.

“Let’s celebrate. I feel like champagne.” His eyes were filled with sparkles of joy.

Rupert’s touch had made her come within a hair’s breadth of a heart attack, and her head spun. A glass of milk would be the doctor’s order.

“Champagne would be nice.”

But his whole demeanor changed. His body tensed, while his eyes left her to focus on a point beyond her. She looked back in the same direction and saw Monty, Rupert’s housemate, stumbling toward the kitchen. The guy must have indulged in the free booze even more than she had.

“Sorry, Maddie, I’ll be back in a minute.” Rupert headed toward the kitchen where Monty had disappeared. A few steps away, he turned back and said, “Don’t move, please.”

She nodded and planted herself right where he had left her, oblivious of the other guests. Claus was nowhere to be seen, and she didn’t feel too sorry for him. He was a big boy.

“Screening the competition?” A clipped voice interrupted her wandering thoughts.

Harriet stood next to Madison in a cashmere mini-dress. Her own plain jeans and black T-shirt combo screamed of provincial. And so she was.

“Good evening.” She didn’t have anything wittier to say to a girl dating the guy Madison had a massive lust-crush on.

“It’s always like that. Wherever Rupert goes, there’re countless pretty girls around. Either he chases them, or they’re attracted to him, like pilot fish following a shark everywhere he hunts.” The other girl giggled, but her laugh didn’t sound at all genuine.

Madison remained silent, bracing herself for the next round.

The lithe blond added without any hint of humor, “He will play with you, for a little while, and then he’ll throw you away.”

Her words sunk into Madison’s mind.

Harriet continued. “Rupert can’t help himself. It’s in his blood. He’s like his father, and Hugo’s roving eye made Rupert’s mother’s life miserable.” And the final strike: “I doubt your white-trash mind can deal with that simple fact.”

“Tell me, Harriet, what makes you think he’ll always come back to you? One day you might be the trash he gets rid of.”

The girl pursed her lips. Apparently she hadn’t expected rednecks to fight back.

“Anyway, I thought you should know that your red-haired friend is making a fool of herself upstairs.” With that, Harriet left.

God knew what Pippa had gotten herself into this time. Looking back toward the kitchen, Madison didn’t see any sign of Rupert. Raging against the missed opportunity of champagne and an earl, she climbed the stairs and searched the second floor for her friend.

Two outsized rooms opened on each side of a corridor. Madison entered the first one and found a guy she didn’t know lying on a bed, high as a kite. The smell of pot streamed into her nostrils.

In the second bedroom she found Pippa snuggled on a corner sofa. At least Madison assumed it was her friend, judging by the mane of red hair spread over the white material of the couch. On top of her and blanketing her body, Oliver Davies had lost all restraint. The guy was on fire and Pippa didn’t seem to mind.

Perplexed, Madison exited the room without a sound and walked back down the wooden stairs. She didn’t worry about Pippa, but rather for Ollie. The Irish girl would be better off not playing with his feelings.

On the last step down, another couple stopped her. Rupert and Harriet stood on the exact spot Madison had a long moment ago. Facing the blond diva, he held the bottle of champagne he had promised Madison. The bombshell had her arms around his bent neck.

They were kissing.