Oxford Shadows (13 page)

A pathetic “Ahh” erupted from her mouth, followed by a bunch of swearwords even her mom would have blushed at. And Bernadette knew a lot of them.

“Jeez,” she gasped, “you moved faster than green grass through a goose.”

She was about to twist her head up to ask him to release her, but the wristlock unclenched itself as quickly as it had flattened Madison to a pancake. She lost her balance and stumbled. When she managed to stand back up and complain to Sam, the words caught in her throat.

Sam was lying on his back. Another figure was on top of him holding him down. Flashes of a different attack shot back to her memory. Outside the Turf, before Christmas, Peter’s dagger pointed at Rupert’s throat. Panic punched Madison right in the guts.

The sensation vanished when she realized that, this time, Rupert was the attacker.

17

STOP THIS.” SHE RUSHED to the two bodies now writhing on the ground. “
Please
, Rupert, let him go. He didn’t hurt me.”

Rupert ignored her plea. Earl or not, he could be a real badass. His effort to destroy Sam intensified as he arched his elbow and hit Sam in the jaw. Sam’s head smashed against the ground.

“Listen,”
she yelled. “Listen to me, Rupert. It was fake. He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

She sidestepped Rupert, searching for a way to break into the mess. He ignored her order, which set her temper on fire. She clenched her jaw and launched herself at Rupert’s elbow. He chose that moment to throw another punch. His elbow buried in her stomach, punching the air out of her lungs. The shock threw her body backward. She hit the dust of the path, landing sideways. She bit her tongue and blood spread in her mouth, only to be replaced by the acrid taste of the nausea that overwhelmed her. A croaking rasp emanated from her mouth.

“Maddie, Maddie.” Rupert knelt by her side and gently took hold of her shoulders to pull her up. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re a
douche
.” Her voice cracked and she fought back the tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks.

Sam had got back on his feet and stood behind Rupert, trying to steal a glance at her. “I swear, if you make her cry,” he said, “I’ll beat the shit out—”

“The two of you just shut up,” she snapped. “You should have worried about me
before
the cockfight.”

Rupert pulled her back on her feet. A throbbing pain radiated from her wrist, and she could already guess at the bruise spreading across her hip from the fall. Dusting off the earth from her clothes, she applied herself to avoiding eye contact with the two brainless hunks standing in front of her. Sam thought the sun came out just to hear him crow. That was a sure fact, but Rupert was the guilty party here.

“Sam was just showing me a move,” she told him.

Rupert’s gaze swung back toward Sam, whose lower lip had started swelling. “Showing her a move … could you be more sleazy?”

Sam held his hands in front of him in denial. “A
martial arts
move.”

Madison grabbed Rupert’s arm to drag his attention back to her. “Stop acting like we’re in a soap opera. My honor is safe.”

“Why is that jackass always hanging around you?”

If she hadn’t been so pissed off right then, Madison would have given serious thought to the question. But Rupert had pushed her too far. “I’m fed up with this crap. First it was Jackson. Now Sam. I don’t throw a tantrum each time a girl you screwed comes and talks—”

“This has nothing to do—”

“Just shut up, Rupert.” Madison buried her index finger in Rupert’s chest. She wanted to hurt him. “I don’t need you to go all caveman each time I talk to a guy. I don’t need you to look after me by locking me in your bachelor pad. I need you to …”

She couldn’t detail her needs in front of Sam, so she chose her words carefully so as not to tip him off about the crazy paranormal shit in her life. “I need you to believe in me, to support me, even if that means embarrassing yourself in front of your goddamned family.” Tears had tipped over her eyelids and ran freely down her cheeks. She wiped them away and sniffed.
So classy.

“Don’t cry, please.” Rupert stepped toward her and laid his hands on her shoulders. Pain clouded the emerald green of his eyes.

Why does he have to look so damned good right now?
Madison shook her shoulders free and retreated. “I need you to stand up for me. That doesn’t always require you to punch someone’s face.”

Sam was now by her side. “Let me walk you home.”

Anger flashed out of Rupert’s eyes, but he didn’t make a move. His jaw clenched instead.

She shook her head in response to Sam’s offer. “I’m fine.”

After one last glance at Rupert, Madison turned around and broke into a run. This time she had no problem with the fast pace. She had to escape.

Madison lay on her tiny bed, her face buried in her pillow. A country song played loudly on the CD player in her study, making the sparse furniture in her bedroom vibrate. Even as a teen she had never indulged in any rebellious streaks, not even with loud music. But it was never too late for mood swings. Ollie—whose room was on the other side of the corridor—might bang at her door in the next minute or so. But who gave a flying shit?

Two days.

Two days since the last time she had seen Rupert. No texts. No emails. Of course, no phone calls either. Not even one single missed call. Only a dozen or so please-call-me-back messages from Aunt Louise.

Not that she should care. Rupert was a bully. He was the one who should apologize. Shouldn’t he?

Madison punched her pillow in frustration and then twisted her head to take a gulp of air. Suffocation wouldn’t solve her love problems. She shouldn’t be staring at her cellphone right now that was for sure. She should be throwing herself into her next assignment and typing something intelligible for the second draft of her paper on medieval art and feminism. Or she should be at the Bodleian Library deep in research. Jackson was paying her to help with his book. His publisher’s deadline was rapidly approaching and she couldn’t let him down. Or she should be combing Mamie’s little book of magic to figure out how to get rid of a royal ghost.

Instead she replayed her last words to Rupert: the last week, pretty much all that had happened since they had come back from Louisiana. It had been so perfect there. Everything had been perfect until the concert in the church with Rupert’s parents, until she started seeing dead people again. Of course, Henry the Eighth was a hell of a ghost. He probably had a VIP pass between this world and the next, and he must be piling up his frequent-flyer miles.

A groan of anger burst from her without Madison being able to stop it. She sat up and this time her fist met the duvet. Her legs hung over the edge of the bed and she shook them.

She missed Rupert. She missed his voice, the way he nestled his face in the nape of her neck, and his smell. The freshly laundered scent of his clothes had been the first thing she had noticed about him. She could overdose on it.

Instead she grabbed the bottle of Dreamy Pillow and Body Mist standing on her bedside table and sprayed it around the room. She inhaled deeply. Not the same effect as laying her cheek on the soft wool of his cricket sweater. Not even close.
Stop being so weak and whiny. Either call him and have it out, or get yourself together and move on!

Two quick knocks on the door made her jump to her feet. A thrill ran across her body and settled in her churning stomach. She took a sip from her bottled water and made the liquid gurgle in her mouth. With a jerking movement she readjusted her ponytail and rushed to the door.

Only it wasn’t Rupert standing on the other side, regretful and begging for forgiveness.

It was his stepmother.

Camilla looked her usual designer-clad self, from the tips of her stilettos—while pregnant,
ouch!
—to the leather handles of her handbag. Hugo’s wife was an older version of Harriet. Their likeness twisted Madison’s heart. She didn’t fit into Rupert’s world; she never would.

“I’m sorry to come unannounced.” A smile lightened up Camilla’s delicate features. She almost looked shy.

Is
pregnancy mellowing her?
Madison shook herself. “Not at all.” She opened the door wider and stepped aside. “Please come in.”

Camilla entered the microscopic space of Madison’s studio and sought the arm of the chair to sit down. Her hand caressed the swell of her belly. “Less than three weeks to go … the stairs up here aren’t very pregnancy-friendly,” she apologized in an out-of-breath voice and with another smile.

Gosh, Camilla was turning into an authentic human being. “Can I get you some water?” Then Madison’s brain cells wired up and connected. Three weeks to go … that meant Madison had less than thirty days to figure out how to depose Henry the Eighth. “Rupert told me about the fall. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

A shadow troubled Camilla’s expression, and her lips gave in to a slight tremor. “I’m much better. We decided on an elective C-section for the end of the month, so I see the end of the tunnel approaching.”

Elective C-section. End of the month. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

“When exactly is the C-section taking place?” Madison managed to keep her tone neutral.

“The twenty-fifth. But back to my presence here, I was on my way to Magway and thought I’d stop by to ask you a question directly.”

Rupert must have finally told her.

“I want to throw a last-minute party for Rupert’s twenty-second birthday. It’s this Saturday.”

Madison’s chin dropped. First, party planning was miles away from a four-hundred-year-old curse. Second, she had forgotten about her boyfriend’s birthday.

The hormonal overload must have sharpened Camilla’s sixth sense because she guessed at Madison’s surprise. “Don’t worry. Hugo had forgotten about it as well.”

Reminding Madison that Rupert’s own absent father was as negligent as she was sharpened Madison’s guilt even more. “What can I do to help?”

She might not even be invited to the party anymore. Maybe Rupert had turned the page. On her. On them. Giving herself a mental slap, she shook her head. However much of a jackass he had been, he would not bail out on her after their first argument.

“You don’t need to do anything,” Camilla said, waving her hand. “Only make sure he comes to Magway this weekend. Lots of people will already be there.”

“Thank you.” Camilla going to so much trouble for Rupert could only comfort him.

“The dress code will be black tie in the evening so make sure he packs his dinner jacket.”

Camilla shifted her body to get back on her feet and picked up the bag she had left on the floor. When she straightened up, a faint squeal escaped her lips. Her hand flew to her distended belly. “Oh God.”

Fear propelled Madison across the study in a panic. “Are you okay?” It wasn’t the twenty-fifth yet.

A contented smile spread across Camilla’s face. “I’m fine. The baby moved, that’s all. She’s kicking like crazy since I fell. I guess it’s a good sign.”

“Yes.” If anything happened to this child, it would be on Madison’s head.

“Give me your hand. You can feel it too.”

Camilla didn’t wait for Madison to decline the offer. She took hold of her hand and placed it gently on her stomach. The rumbling and tumbling brushing underneath her hand was unlike anything Madison had felt before. She was about to give in to the natural cooing when the baby girl gave one more kick, and Madison’s world turned to the darkness of Liliana’s.

Death was a new beginning. Indeed.

What I failed to have with Henry in my native Florence has now been given to me. Four centuries later. In a different lifetime, a different country. His own: England. My patience has been rewarded and fate has given me another chance. This time I will know how to keep Henry.

“I can feel the baby moving. Give me your hand.” Happiness gives a bounce to my words. A child at last. His child.

“
This boy is going to be a first-class rugby player.”

“
What makes you think it’s going to be a boy? I’ve always dreamed of having a little girl.”

We have been teasing each other since the moment I told him I was expecting. I hear myself giggling. I could never have hoped for my expectations to be exceeded as they have been in this lifetime. I did not try and get pregnant, but this miracle happened. He proposed and now we are about to be married.

I tilt my head backward to let the rays of the sun warm my face. We are sitting at the edge of the fountain, in the center of the quad. Mercury is looking down at me.

Henry smiles.

18