Oxford Shadows (27 page)

Madison hushed him with her mouth. Supporting herself on his shoulders, she straddled him in one swift move. His legs were now set apart and there was no way for him to hide how much he wanted her, or how hard. She arched when his fingers teased the dimples at the bottom of her back. He loved that part of her body. His hands slid from there down to underneath her underwear. He palmed her bottom firmly, pressed her against him. She made a soft sound, like a mew, and leaned back. She started undoing the buttons of the shirt and he released a sigh of relief. When she opened the shirt and let it slip along her arms down to the floor, the urge to be inside her took over.

“I need you.” His mouth teased one of her nipples then flicked it. Next, he applied the same attention to the other nipple.

Their breathing became louder.

Madison unbuckled his belt and opened his jeans to free him. He slid one finger in her knickers and pushed them aside so that he could be inside her. She was tight around him. When her hips started moving over him, he knew he wouldn’t last long. He let her take charge and ride him.

“I love you,” he said in a loud rasp.

She didn’t answer, but showed him instead with the rocking of her hips. There was no way Aurélie or anyone was taking that away from him.

37

THE TRAFFIC FROM Oxford to London was like something out of hell. It took Rupert twice the normal time to reach his townhouse. Madison had spent the last hour listening to the frustrated tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel of the Morgan. The sight of Jasper-the-Butler—as Madison had nicknamed the Vances’ chief-of-staff on her first visit to Magway—didn’t cheer her up either.
Could the man manage to be even a tiny bit more pompous? Surely not.

“I thought he was based in Magway,” she whispered to Rupert when they were inside and the man walked away with their coats.

“He’s helping out here around the time of the birth.” Rupert’s strained voice was another proof of his exhaustion.

Guilt seeped through Madison. The bright hallway lighting revealed the dark circles under his eyes. He had slept even less than she had over the last two nights. His days had been focused on managing the police and arranging for their departure and Aunt Louise’s … Madison’s thoughts stalled. She forced herself to continue. She had to face the truth, the new reality of her life.

Aunt Louise wasn’t there anymore.

Aunt Louise had passed away.

Aunt Louise was dead. She had been murdered.

Rupert had ensured that Louise’s remains would be flown back to Louisiana in time for the funeral, but the post-mortem had to take place first. A shiver of disgust rushed through Madison. Doctors foraging through her aunt’s tiny body …
This can’t be happening.

“Come here.” Rupert pulled her against him and she relaxed within the warmth of his body. “In just over a day, we’ll be in Pierre Part.”

She tipped her head back to look at him. “You should stay here, for Camilla.”

Stubbornness hardened Rupert’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Maddie, but I’m coming. My dad’s still in Japan anyway.”

“Promise me you’ll be back here right after the funeral.” Madison slid her hand along the collar of his shirt, caressing the nape of his neck. His muscles relaxed under her touch.

“I promise you. And if everything goes according to plan, that means I should be here before the birth.” His lips caressed her forehead. “Let’s check if Camilla’s still awake.”

Clutching her hand tightly in his, Rupert led the way through the townhouse. While Magway had kept its old-fashioned charm, the Vances’ townhouse in London was all modern, clean lines and shiny white. Camilla had spent indecent amounts of time and money redecorating the house—and erasing the personal touches Rupert’s mother had left behind.

They checked the drawing room and the reception area. No sign of Camilla.

“She might already be in her bedroom.” Rupert gave a distracted look at his wristwatch. “It’s only nine P.M. Let’s go and see her.”

They were heading toward the marbled staircase when good ol’ Jasper emerged from the kitchen.

“Jasper, please take our bags to my bedroom while we talk to my stepmother,” Rupert said, with one foot already on the lowest step.

Madison was about to offer to carry her own bag—
thank you very much
—when Jasper-the-Butler answered through pinched lips.

“Sir, I’m afraid it won’t be possible for you to talk to the countess.”

“And why not?”

“Lord Vance and Lady Camilla left for the hospital earlier tonight. Apparently the labor started prematurely.”

Madison swore she heard thunder slice through the room. Her brain whirred to catch up with this latest piece of news. Camilla was at the hospital. Hugo wasn’t due back in the U.K. for another three days.

“And you didn’t think it was worth mentioning it to me
earlier
?” Anger bled from Rupert’s voice.

Under any other circumstances, Madison would have enjoyed the show immensely. Right now, she just kept staring at the stuck-up servant, desperate to know more.

“I-I assumed you’d …” the butler stammered. “I thought your father, Lord Vance, had called you. He arrived back earlier this afternoon, unexpectedly.”

“When did they leave?”

“Half an hour ago.”

Madison had followed the quick tempo of their exchange and her eyes had now settled on Rupert. His expression was neutral, but she could almost hear his thoughts; she could see the revealing twitch of the vein on his forehead.

Without another word to the butler, he rushed up the stairs, two at a time. Reacting after a few seconds of delay, Madison followed his lead. He didn’t stop at the second floor, where his own bedroom was, but shot straight to the spacious top floor shared by Camilla and Hugo.

“What are you looking for?” Madison said. “She’s not there, he told you.”

Rupert had already stepped inside the room. Madison lingered at the door, her eyes glued on him. Since the night he had rescued her from Peter in St. Giles crypt he had never looked so focused. His body moved swiftly, his head leaning forward, set on his goal.

“What are you looking for?”

“My father’s revolver.”

Good heavenly days.
“What for?”

Her question managed to stop Rupert right in his tracks. He spun toward her and she shrank under the harsh light of his stare. “What
for?”
He shook his head. “You’ve been warning me about this moment for weeks now. So here we are. I have to be prepared for anything.”

Like shoot his own father.

38

MADISON HAD TO THINK, to retrieve what she had learned from her last vision. Louise’s death had obliterated her need to analyze what she had seen, blurring the lines of her memory.

At Louise’s house, Madison had had another vision. Like the one next to the statue of Mercury in Tom Quad and the car accident, the scene she saw was set in modern days. At least not in the sixteenth century and Italy. Henry had been unfaithful again. Well, no big surprise there, since nowadays his name was Hugo Vance …

Liliana-slash-Laura had been unhappy again and had lost her second chance at keeping her husband for herself. She had also lost her unborn child.

Liliana had been the one who had led Madison to the edge of the jetty in Magway, the one who had lured her to take that extra step into the void. Not Henry. Giving a hard look back at all her visions since the concert, unease crept inside Madison’s chest. Liliana was the wronged party. The victim. That also made her the one with motives. Not Henry.

“Rupert, please slow down.”

He ignored her plea and kept rummaging through the fitted closet along the wall of his father’s bedroom.

Frustration made her stamp her foot. “Just
stop
.”

Madison’s thoughts were upside-down and she had to talk them through or she would explode. “Maybe Henry wasn’t threatening Camilla after all.”

Having tossed Hugo’s tailor-made shirts all over the plush carpet, Rupert came to an abrupt halt. “Explain.”

“That night at the concert Henry could only have been warning me about the danger Camilla’s facing.” Rupert waved his hand in a get-to-the-point gesture. “When I witnessed Anne’s execution through his eyes—the night I fell into the lake in Magway—I felt this sense of despair in him, of guilt. As if he hadn’t wanted to kill her, as if he wasn’t the one in charge of his own actions.”

“So Camilla could be safe with him … with Henry … with my dad?”

The pleading Madison saw in Rupert’s eyes made her next words even more painful to say. The lump in her throat tightened, but she forced herself to continue. “Your dad might not want to hurt her, but if Liliana possesses him, as she might have possessed Henry, she won’t let Camilla give him a child. The same way that Liliana directed fate to deprive Henry the Eighth of a male heir, and—”

“Stop, please stop, this is getting insane.” Rupert rubbed his face and let out a frustrated groan. “Let me get this straight. We still have my father and Camilla as a reincarnation of Henry the Eighth and Anne Boleyn. We still have that Italian girl Liliana who wrote ‘Greensleeves’ and who kind of was your buddy until now …” Madison nodded and he continued. “But you’re saying that sweet Liliana wasn’t that innocent after all. In fact, from beyond the grave she possessed Henry and made him kill all the women he loved and married throughout his life.”

“That’s a possibility.” Now was the moment to tell him about Liliana’s real identity. But Madison was too much of a coward and she kept her mouth shut. As long as she wasn’t entirely certain, she would postpone breaking Rupert’s heart by telling him his own mother was involved.

He finally reacted with a stiff nod. “We have to find out the truth. And for that we have to find my dad, Camilla … and the baby.” Resolve hardened his spine and he launched himself back into the search for the gun. “He keeps the thing in an antique wooden box somewhere.”

While Rupert busied himself, Madison summoned up every ounce of strength in her brain—the brain that had got her into Yale. Now was the time for that same brain to reveal its true worth.

Her fingertips massaged her temples. She shut her eyes. If—how she prayed for this “if” to be true—Liliana merely possessed Hugo against his will, Madison would be treading in known territory. That scenario was similar to what had happened between Peter and Pippa. Hugo could be saved with the same prayer Madison had used against Peter-slash-Pippa: the prayer from Mamie’s little book. She could free souls provided they had fought against the possession.

Madison had seen Hugo’s love for Camilla, the way his reptilian gaze softened when he looked down at her, when his hand brushed the swell of her belly. He loved her. Just like Henry had truly loved Anne. Henry had fought against Liliana’s possession. Madison had experienced the turmoil inside him when he watched Anne’s execution. Hopefully Hugo had done the same in this lifetime.

The prayer she had used against Peter should work this time. Pippa had died when Madison had extracted Peter from her body because she was his ally, not his victim.

“Fuck!” Rupert had extracted a mahogany box from underneath a pile of scarves. He held it open. “The revolver isn’t there anymore. He took it with him.” He sounded shattered.

Madison rushed toward him, her foot crunching on some broken glass. She looked down. A picture frame lay on the floor. Careful not to cut herself on the jagged edges, she picked the pieces up. Camilla on her wedding day, snuggling against Hugo, his hand protectively on her rounded stomach. A series of images flashed in front of Madison’s eyes. The truth stabbed through her, through her heart, her soul. She let out a groan. Rupert stared back at her.

She let the frame crash back onto the floor. Her legs ceased to carry her and her whole body slumped down. She revisited the past.

39