Oxford Whispers Part 20

In a whoosh, the world around her disappeared, and she now held the Cavalier's hand, his trembling hand.

They stood in a graveyard. The pale rays of the sun warmed her face, but she s.h.i.+vered. Madison looked into his eyes. They were red-rimmed and swollen from too many tears.

She didn't ask him why he had been crying, but instead followed his downcast gaze to the tomb lying at their feet. On the headstone, she read the chiseled name: Sarah Perkins.

Below she could read a date: June 1651.

Robert's voice, weak and raspy, shuddered with shock. "Peter Perkins killed her. He married her and he killed her."

The same whoosh flashed in front of Madison's eyes. Her cheek now rested on the cold surface of the wooden floor in Jackson's home.

"What has he done to you?" Jackson lifted her upper body and cradled her against his chest, rocking her back and forth. He held her face, covered with a flow of tears. Their eyes locked.

Madison spoke. "She married Peter. Why? Why did she do that?"

Chapter 30.

FOR HER TWENTY-SECOND birthday, Madison wanted to have fun.

She wanted to forget and pretend her life was in perfect order. No ghost, no murderer, not even an English guy to dump her b.u.t.t before they had even started dating. She had lifted her hair into a thick bun, applied a generous layer of makeup and put on Pippa's black mini-skirt. Oxford, here I am!

At her table that evening, only Jackson knew about her involvement in that supernatural business of hers. The others there, Pippa and Ollie, were too much into themselves to worry about anything aside from their over-active s.e.x lives. And here was the birthday girl, alone and lonely because she'd been stupid enough to fall for a jerk.

Well, she would move on. Rupert wouldn't hurt her anymore.

Sitting on a plain pine chair with metal legs, Madison looked around one of the strangest places she had ever found herself in. Freud's was a shabby-chic bar on the edge of the historic suburb of Jericho, and a popular undergraduate hangout. The dark doors of the converted church opened onto a room of palatial size, complete with stained-gla.s.s windows and austere drapes hanging from a high ceiling.

"I'll have a holy Freud lemonade, please. Whatever that is," she shouted across to Ollie, struggling to make herself heard over the music played by a live jazz band.

Ollie paraded toward the long, bronze bar, holding onto his girlfriend's hand. Pippa hadn't yet reverted to her normal bubbly self since the pedicure bust-up. But Madison chose to ignore the girl's grudge over Rupert. Pippa had Ollie, a good guy smitten with her, so she had nothing to complain about.

Madison didn't have anyone. She had seen Rupert again since the nearly cursing episode. They had to, because they were still study partners. They had been civil to each other. He had even inquired about her birthday plans, but nothing was the same between them anymore. With his housemate in hospital, Rupert had already forgotten about her.

She turned her attention back to Jackson, who sat across the Formica table cradling a pint of Guinness. Since she was in a lighthearted mood, Madison didn't even consider how appropriate, or not, the presence of her "boss" at her birthday dinner was. She would also ignore the hungry eyes of the female clientele on him.

For someone who spent so much time with the hottest guys at uni, how could she still be single and a virgin?

With Ollie and Pippa out of ear's reach, Jackson leaned over the table. "I don't think you should experiment with your powers without someone by your side from now on."

He had kept his voice low, but Madison stared around her in panic to check n.o.body had overheard. Since her voodoo demo, he had morphed into her unofficial bodyguard.

"At least now we have a surname and a date for Sarah's death. I'll be fine. My ancestors have practiced these rituals for centuries." Most of them had hanged themselves, drowned in the Mississippi, or struck lucky and died in a nuthouse. "I just need to get used to it." As if ...

Madison saw how much he wanted to make his point, but tonight, he restrained himself.

Instead, he held his eyes fixed on his half-empty gla.s.s and said, "I wish I could protect you. I think you're in danger."

Madison's heart skipped a beat.

"On top of that, I shouldn't have let Vance close to you. He's hurting you, even if you're trying hard to hide it. Oliver told me about the argument you had with the guy."

Thanks, Ollie, for making sure everyone knew about her being dumped like a ragdoll.

She gave a fake shrug. Rupert's cruelty still stung, but Madison wouldn't let thoughts of him ruin her evening. "You make it sound worse than it is."

Her tutor shook his head. "First loves are always so confusing." He had already spoken those same words a few days earlier.

On a gut instinct Madison said, "You've been hurt."

She sought his eyes, but they were back on his beer. Sadness had cast a shadow on his tanned face.

"She was my high-school sweetheart. I proposed during my first Christmas break from Yale. We got engaged. When I graduated, she was pregnant ... with someone else's child." He released a bitter laugh. "How pathetic I was."

"She was the pathetic one, not you." It was Madison's turn to lean forward and lay her hand on his.

That's when she saw the future Lord Vance. He was standing rigid ten feet away, staring at her hand clasped over Jackson's.

Rupert was holding a bright bouquet of red roses.

Was the bouquet meant for her?

Before she could ask Rupert the question, he stormed out. Her muddied thoughts registered Ollie and Pippa's smiling faces coming back from the bar, and her hand still joined with McCain's.

Rupert must have a.s.sumed ... The jerk. He played around, so when she touched a friend he thought she must be s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g him. She'd tell him a thing or two.

"I'm sorry. I need to get out." She took back possession of her hand, and in a clumsy movement put her jacket on.

"He's not worthy of you," Jackson warned her. The fire in his eyes betrayed his anger. "Don't go after him."

But she had to.

Outside the January wind bit at her legs. She cursed herself for dressing up and depending on the thin barrier of her woolen tights for warmth. Short skirts in the middle of the winter had been a stupid choice, driven by a bruised ego.

"Having a good time, missie?" Mocked a familiar voice. Vance.

Madison jumped around to find the object of her thoughts a few paces back of her. He still wore the same angry expression, tinted by disdain. The roses had gone, probably dumped somewhere.

"You knew I was celebrating my birthday at Freud's. What do you want?" Her question had an aggressive edge.

"Just pa.s.sing by. You look gorgeous tonight. You tarted yourself up for your beloved Doctor McCain." His legs were apart, his jaw clenched and shoulders squared.

His height gave him the commanding ground, but he didn't scare her. "Shut up. Jackson and I were just talking. You have no right-"

"I have every right. I came tonight to bring you flowers for your birthday. I'm not letting some nerd take what should be mine." Rupert crossed the short distance between them and towered over her.

Resentment burst from Madison's body. His words had pushed her temper to the edge.

"I'm not yours. As I've already told you, Rupert, you're in no position to give your opinion." She enunciated every word, anger flaring up in her throat. "I've always been nice to you. I never disrespected you, and now you've proved you're the loser I thought you were when I first met you."

"And Captain America is a winner, your knight in s.h.i.+ning armor. That's what sweet girls like you dream of. A perfect, clean-cut hero."

Madison shot him back an unblinking stare. "You have serious issues, Vance," she said, her hands on her hips, demanding an explanation, but he didn't flinch or answer.

Frustrated, she turned and marched away. He reached out and grabbed her arm. In reaction, she struggled to free herself, but he pulled her tight against his chest.

His kiss was demanding and hard, saying that he needed her. His lips tasted of vulnerability, and of something else Madison couldn't define. Her mental faculties had gone AWOL.

In pressing his mouth against hers, Rupert had seized the back of her head, burying his fingers in the thickness of her bun. With his other hand, he cupped her bottom and pulled her against him. A groan escaped from his mouth.

Tenderness had vanished. He wanted to possess her, and his stamp of owners.h.i.+p burnt her self-respect. The last time a man touched her like this, she was nearly raped.

Panic took over. She froze inside. She couldn't be outmatched that way, ever again.

She pushed him away, and, with all the strength she could muster, slapped his face.

Rupert's expression went blank. Stunned, as if waking up from a deep sleep, he laid his hand where she had hit him. Her fingers had left pink traces on his skin.

Taking advantage of his shock, she darted away. After a few steps he caught up with her.

"Forgive me. I've no idea why I just did that." Rupert took hold of both her arms, but with none of the pressure he had used before. He hardly touched her. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I reacted that way. I can't believe that you and McCain ..."

"Jackson and I are friends," she interrupted and looked around them. "Anyway, I can't see your girlfriend. She doesn't come with you when you stalk other women."

Rupert stepped back from her. "I broke up with Harriet right after the Christmas break. I should never have started anything with her in the first place. I hadn't met you yet. I had no idea how it felt like..."

He let his sentence hang between them, and a bittersweet sense of victory raced through Madison's veins.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she lied. "From what I know about Harriet's personality, you two made a perfect match."

It was low, and she knew it.

"Maddie, hear me out. I know how I've treated you, tonight and when you came to my place last week. Please forgive me." His face showed real regret, and she imagined she saw tears glistening in his eyes. "Believe me or not, but I only wanted to protect you. I thought that if I behaved like an a.s.shole you would walk away without looking back. But I'm not that jerk anymore. I'm better than him."

It was the most farfetched explanation for dumping anyone she had ever heard.

He had asked for forgiveness, but Madison couldn't give in. For her own sake and his. She was still hurt and not ready to open up again.

"That's fine. I accept your apologies. Now I would like to go back to my friends."

He didn't move out of her way. His eyes were cast downward in a submissive manner. "Please, give me a second chance."

Chapter 31.

A CHANCE FOR WHAT?" she challenged.

"A chance to pick up where we left off before Christmas." His voice was husky, the tone was soft. She wanted to melt. "You're out of your mind. You treat people like dirt, then expect them to give you a free pa.s.s."

"I was d.a.m.ned jealous tonight. Maybe I'm the most selfish jacka.r.s.e to walk the earth, but I can't stand the idea of another guy kissing your lips, sharing your bed... making love to you for the first time."

The direct reference to her virginity should have made her flinch. Instead every cell in her body ignited, melted and ran in a liquid flow toward the magnet of his body.

Rupert s.h.i.+fted on his feet, like a young boy who'd been chided by his mother. "And I know I have so much to give you. It's all there, Maddie, in my heart, and it's been waiting for you."

Her pride dictated that she left while she could still hold her head up high. Her heart and her female DNA wanted to linger here however, to stay next to him a teeny, tiny while longer. And maybe feel the protection and warmth of his arms around her once again.

"Give us another try. I want to be a better person. For you."

"I'm no charity."

"I'm not asking for charity, just for the chance to be with you." He leaned his head forward, lowering it close to hers. "I want to show you that I'm more than an upper-cla.s.s jerk. I could be so much more with you."

His words opened her heart to new avenues of hope.

"How would you define a second chance?" she murmured.

He released a smile. "Maybe dinner."

"Yeah."

"Good. Give me the day and the time and I'll organize everything."

"This Wednesday. Eight p.m."

"Deal." He hadn't moved, but his eyes sparked to life with boyish excitement.

Her heart thudded in response. "Goodnight then."

"I'll call to tell you where I've booked a table."

"No, I'll call you." She wasn't ready to let him take the lead again. She wanted to be in control this time around.

Her message was loud and clear. He received it and nodded in acknowledgement.