Oxford Shadows (23 page)

“Madison is mine, not yours,” he said. The woman had no claim on either his sexual life or Madison.

Aurélie’s attitude flicked back from sexual predator to cold business. She swiveled and headed back toward the car. A buffed-up man in full bodyguard mode opened the door for her. She was about to climb into the car but turned back, staring straight at Madison.

“It’s too late to change your mind, child. The dice have already been rolled.”

Madison launched herself toward Aurélie. “What do you mean? I’m fed up with people talking in riddles.”

“Then come and join us, because that’s the only way for you to understand.”

Madison stamped her foot. “Answer me
now
.”

“All I can say is that it has already happened. I can see it in you.”

Without another word, Aurélie entered the car and the chauffeur closed the door behind her. They left the illegal parking place and drove away.

Rupert came and stood behind Madison. He circled her waist and pulled her against his chest, his head resting in the cradle of her neck. “Don’t let her get to you. We’ll figure out what her gibberish is all about.”

Madison didn’t lean against him and she didn’t answer. Rupert knew they weren’t done yet with Aurélie.

Rupert parked his Morgan on the gravel driveway in front of the house Louise LeBon shared with other members of her order. He stepped out the door and wrapped his scarf closer around his neck. The gravel had frozen overnight and the ground crunched under his weight. He enjoyed the earthy scent of the early morning and the frigid quality of the air. After last night, he needed its wake-up effect. Crossing paths with that Aurélie woman had triggered an acute sense of foreboding within him.

He knocked on the door and ran his fingers through his hair to tidy his just-out-of-bed look. Hopefully Louise would not yet be on her way to school. He could have called to announce his visit, but he counted on surprising her. Nun or not, Rupert intended to give the woman a warning. No more messing about with Madison. No more Aurélie.

A plain-looking woman, stick-thin, with rounded glasses perched on the tip of her nose, greeted him. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Rupert bowed slightly, summoning his manners. “I’m here to see Sister Louise. I’m a friend of her niece.”

The woman blushed and her eyelashes started to flutter. Clearly she was flustered. “I … I’m Sister Madeleine,” she babbled. “Come inside.”

Rupert accepted the invitation and entered the warmth of the house. He rubbed his hands together to get the blood circulating again after the cold early morning outside.

“Sister Louise is in a prayer room.” Sister Madeleine realized Rupert couldn’t know where it was, so she indicated with her arm and added, “Follow me, please.”

He did so without paying much attention to the bare corridor leading to the back of the house. Instead he focused on how he’d tackle Madison’s aunt. She had to stop screwing up his girlfriend’s life.

The door of what must have been the prayer room was half open and Sister Madeleine gestured for him to enter. He stepped into the austere-looking room and heard Sister Madeleine’s steps retreat. Three tight ranks of chairs separated him from Louise. She was kneeling at the pew that stood at the foot of the wall, a crucifix hanging above it.

Rupert was a born-and-bred Church of England boy. For the first time, he gave serious thought to Louise’s status within the Catholic Church. He hoped his next actions wouldn’t send him rotting straight to hell.

With a few paces, he stood behind her. She hadn’t heard him coming and he understood why. Her shoulders were shaking. Heavy sobs emanated from the hands covering her face.

Uh-oh, what’s going on here?
He shuffled his feet, not sure anymore what he should do next. He had come to straighten out Madison’s aunt, but seeing her like this … she didn’t look like the evil queen he had thought she was. With care, he laid his hand on her shoulder.

She jumped and cried out as if she had expected someone was there to kill her. Realizing it was her niece’s boyfriend and not a hit man, she placed a hand over her chest in relief. “What are you doing here?” Louise LeBon wasn’t one for small talk.

“I wanted to talk about Madison with you, about Aurélie and the fuc— the dangerous connections she seems to have.”

Louise broke into more sobs and buried her face in her hands.

Is it because I nearly swore in a place of worship?
He grabbed one of the chairs from the front row and sat next to where Louise knelt.

“Aunt Louise, you must open up to me. I want to protect Madison and I’m sure you want the same thing.” He kept his voice low so as not to break the solemnity of the room. He hoped the woman would be able to read in his eyes the depth of his love for Madison.

She focused her bloodshot eyes on him and sniffed. After assessing him for a long time, she gave him a faint nod. “I misjudged you.”

Halleluia.
Rupert gave a quick glance at the Christ figure above him and addressed a silent prayer of gratitude to him.

“I was left with no choice. Either they were getting to her directly, or I could be involved. I thought I could help her, make sure she could stay safe. As safe as possible.” Louise’s gaze detached from Rupert, her mind reliving the past. “In the process, I might have started believing it too.”

“You’re talking about Aurélie?” Louise nodded and Rupert forged on. “Why do you think Madison’s in danger? Do they want something from her?”

“They believe we’re descended from a sacred line. One of our ancestors, the one who was enslaved and taken from Africa, was a princess, someone from a holy line … in our religion.”

“By religion I take you’re not referring to …” He looked quickly at the crucifix.

“I mean voodoo. Although sometimes the lines with Christianity become blurred.”

“So these people, they believe Madison is some kind of messiah?”

Louise tilted her head sideways. “Not her. Her child. A child they’ll take away from her as soon as it’s born.”

If he hadn’t been sitting down, Rupert would have tumbled to the floor. This wasn’t what he had expected.

At all.

31

RUPERT FORCED HIS hand through his hair. He swallowed several times in a row, shut his eyes and opened them again. Louise had taken hold of his other hand.

“I know how it must sound. I wasn’t convinced at first, but you need to understand,
they
believe it. And because they believe it, it puts Madison at the center of a web. Aurélie isn’t the only one after her. Others want to keep an eye on her too, in case the prophecy comes true.”

“Are some of these people already in Oxford?” His brain cells went into overdrive and snippets of conversation echoed in his head. “Is Jackson McCain one of them?”

Louise nodded and bit her lower lip.

Rupert’s mouth fell open. McCain wasn’t his best mate, but knowing he was now the enemy was a harsh blow to the solar plexus. “Who else? That guy Sam from the Turf?”

“I’m not sure,” Louise answered with a shrug. “Maybe I’m being paranoid. His tattoo.” She brushed the side of her arm, where Sam’s tattoo was. “I’ve seen it somewhere before. Although it might be a coincidence.”

“We shall see.”

“I’m so sorry.” A torrent of tears burst forth again. Louise leaned forward, and because she was already on her knees Rupert felt she was begging him. “I always wanted to protect her, but I haven’t. If anything, I used my influence to make her trust dangerous people. Madison always wanted to please me and I betrayed her.”

Louise had been wrong. But who was he to judge her? His track record with Madison wasn’t spotless either. Awkwardly, he took the lady in his arms and patted her frail shoulders. Madison had to keep her promise to him not to go back to Aurélie. He had to make sure she did.

Madison rushed out of her tutorial and onto George Street. She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. Again. She had been repeating the same gesture all day. Her first night in her new house hadn’t been as restful as she’d expected. Beside her, Rupert had barely contained his tension. He had tried not to toss and turn but after a while he had left their bed and paced around the house.

Damn Aurélie.
Plus, there was this unknown element now in the “Greensleeves” equation. If Laura Vance had actually been Liliana in a previous life, did it mean anything? Surely there was a similar type of love triangle: Liliana-Henry VIII-Anne Boleyn back then, Laura-Hugo-Camilla in modern days. But the modern triangle was invalidated since Laura had died in a car crash four years ago.

Something was missing. Until she had figured it out, she wouldn’t share her discovery with Rupert. The subject of his mother was still a painful one.

Shaking her head, Madison straddled her bike and put on her helmet. She didn’t want to think what an idiot she looked at that moment. The helmet was Rupert’s latest gift. He could have opted for a neutral color, but no, instead he had gone all stars and stripes. Since then she had been cycling through Oxford dressed for a Fourth of July parade.

After a quick glance at her watch, she hurried forward. She had to arrive at the Turf before peak time. Sam had been at every twist and turn since her return from Louisiana, but … She realized she didn’t have his cell phone number, and that all she knew about him for sure was that he worked at the Turf and she had met him on the night of Henry’s first appearance at the concert.
Could Sam be linked to the “Greensleeves” mystery?

Ten minutes later she chained her bike to the railings opposite the Radcliffe Camera and hurried up toward New College Lane, down St. Helen’s Passage, giving a mental kick to Aurélie’s memory, not even a day old. Hopefully Rupert’s warning would have discouraged her.

When Madison entered the Turf, relief flooded over her. Sam was where she needed him to be: behind the bar. The pub was empty, a very rare occurrence. The only other person there apart from Sam was Cassie.
Hmm.
Based on the way Sam held the girl tightly in his arms, it was clear these two were more than co-workers.

She was about to retreat outside to give the two some privacy when Cassie’s warm voice stopped her.

“Please, don’t go away.”

Sam’s first reaction was to scowl at the interruption. His gaze softened when his eyes met Madison’s.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.” Madison curled the tips of her toes.

Cassie waved for her to come back in. “Don’t worry.”

The girl had been crying. Her cheeks were all blotchy, her eyes red-rimmed, her nose runny. Despite her distress, Madison saw that Cassie still managed to look incredibly pretty, with her cute turned-up nose and aquamarine eyes.

“What can I do for you, Pumpkin?”

Sam kept his arm wrapped around Cassie’s shoulders in a possessive grasp. His gesture reassured Madison. The guy couldn’t have any plans to make a move on her after displaying his feelings toward the other girl. Maybe getting in the sack with Madison hadn’t been the motivation behind his recent overwhelming presence in her life after all.

“I came to talk to you.” Giving an all-encompassing wave to the room, she explained. “This is the only place I know I can find you.”

“I was expecting you,” he answered.

Cassie gave Sam’s chest a tender pat and he dropped a light kiss on her forehead. He came around the counter to stand in front of Madison.

“Let’s go and sit somewhere quiet,” he said, heading toward a table nestled in the alcove overlooking the pub’s courtyard.

Madison remembered having her first dinner with Rupert at that exact table, just before Christmas. She and Sam now sat opposite each other. Madison entwined her fingers on the table, mirroring Sam’s own gesture. Their eyes met and they measured each other up. She broke the silence.

“What’s happening with Cassie?”

“An asshole is playing with her heart.” Sam’s answer had the merit of being terse and clear.

“Who? Do I know the guy?”
Really, LeBon, none of your business.
But if someone she knew was playing havoc with Cassie’s feelings, Madison wouldn’t hesitate to give him the cold shoulder. Or worse. Female solidarity and all.

“Her husband.”

What? Cassie was married? She wasn’t much older than Madison.

Sam shifted on the wooden bench and Madison could see he immediately regretted having disclosed these details about Cassie’s private life. Time to change the topic anyway.

“How do you know so much about me?” she threw at him.

“I came to Oxford for you.”

Good heavenly days.
At least the guy didn’t beat about the bush. She swallowed hard. Countless questions and scenarios wrestled inside her head. There was no need to go around her elbow to get to her thumb.

She summarized her thoughts into one single word. “Why?”

“I’m your brother.”

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