Oxford Whispers Part 34

"Why did she lie to me?" His voice is filled with rage. "Why did she use me?"

I cannot answer. For Sarah wronged him, this is true. I wronged him too. "You should have gone after me, not her."

Perkins' shoulders hunch and I can see a twitch on his cheek. His eyes are wet.

"Did you kill her? Is Anne telling the truth?" I am willing to give him a chance to clear his conscience.

In response, he lets out an uncontrolled moan.

"You cannot keep Rose. She is not yours," I plead.

His posture alters brutally, shaking fists now pointed at me. "You will witness your own blood raised in the true Puritan way."

In a few steps, I stand in front of him and wrench on his arm to pull him toward me. "You are mad. Hatred is your lord."

He bursts into laughter, and his acrid breath reaches my nostrils. But my attention is drawn to the dagger he has grabbed from his belt. His coat had hidden the weapon until now.

I push Perkins away and take hold of my sword, hanging from my hip. "Perkins, you have no chance at this. I am a trained soldier and have been fighting for my king. Please, give up your rights to my daughter."

I have come here to kill him, but now, in the middle of this uneven battle, my resolve falters. Sarah will not return to living form, whatever vengeful deed I commit. I should try and do what is right for Rose. She is the only hope, the only future for our ill-fated love.

"I will never give Rose up. You will never get to her." His scream is the one of a low, evil beast. He leaps toward me. His arm arches, the dagger points straight at my throat.

I have no choice. With a swift extension of my arm, my sword impales his chest, and blood splatters across his waistcoat. He collapses at my feet.

I kneel and throw his dagger away by precaution. The man is dying- my sword has gone for his heart.

I might have been able to unarm Peter. I could have brought him before the authorities. I could have claimed my daughter with pride, rather than murder. A faint growl escapes Perkins' lips. With the veil of death dropping over them, his eyes remain fixed on me.

"I curse you, Dallembert. I curse you both. You will never find peace." Those are his words, his last.

Chapter 56.

THE SCENE HAVING played out before her, Madison stared down at her hands, clasped on her knees. Justice had been rendered. Three centuries ago, Robert had killed the murderer of the woman he loved, the woman he lost. Justice, or had it been vengeance?

Whatever the answer, he had condemned their souls. For eternity. And from beyond death, Peter had carried out his crusade of hatred.

Would Madison be the latest of his victims? He had tried to kill her when she was riding back to Christ Church, and at Magway, after her first time with Rupert. He struck each time she was weakened or vulnerable.

Peter had told her the truth back then, in Louisiana, after he had saved her from Tarquin's clutches. He wouldn't let anyone else love her. Or kill her.

She rubbed her upper arms for comfort and ended up hugging her shoulders tight. Her limbs started trembling, and in this warm room she shook as if from a chill.

"Are you all right?" Rupert asked. He now knelt at her feet, his palms cradling her face, his gaze searching for rea.s.surance. "Let me help you, Maddie. Even if you never want to see me afterwards, let me help you."

She looked up at him. The closeness of his face reminded her how much he looked like the Cavalier.

Flashes of memory came back to her. Peter had tried to kill Rupert before, outside the Turf. He was the man in the shadows that night. In the same way that he had possessed Jackson to break into her room, he had led him to attack Rupert. He'd keep trying until he succeeded.

Rupert wasn't collateral damage in Peter's revenge against her. He was an integral part of the psycho's murderous plans.

She couldn't let that happen. Rupert was strong and able to defend himself, but Peter would not be defeated by physical strength.

Shutting the world out, she stood, grabbed her coat and excused herself.

Rupert called her name. "Don't go. Please, Maddie."

She ignored him and pa.s.sed Monty who was coming in. She left the house, slamming the door behind her. Her coat still pressed against her chest, she wandered along the street of fine houses. The sun had replaced the earlier rain, but night was already falling on the late March afternoon. She lifted her head and lost herself in the orange, pink and red hues blazing across the Oxford sky.

The temperature cooled, causing her to s.h.i.+ver. She was about to wrap herself up in the duffel coat when a familiar, high-pitched voice pierced her ears from behind, shattering her thoughts.

"I'm sorry for what I did."

Madison spun around. Pippa was standing five feet away, holding her hands in front of her. She looked like a kid about to confess to stealing sweets.

"What are you doing here?"

"I guessed you would be at Rupert's. I couldn't leave things the way they were after our argument at the Queen's Lane."

Madison relaxed. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but in the grand scheme of things, bickering between friends wasn't the end of the world.

"Don't worry. It's already forgotten." Remembering Pippa's words, she added, "In a way, you were right. I'm not in a position to lecture you." She was done with mea culpas. Madison had to focus on the fight that was to come.

Pippa had other plans. "I need to talk to you. We could go to my place and have a cup of tea. I've parked my car around the corner."

The last thing Madison had time for right now was girlish chitchat about boy troubles. Jackson might be lurking around and getting ready to strike again.

"I can't. Sorry, maybe-"

"Please, give me an hour," Pippa pleaded, tears now shaking her voice. "You're so close to Ollie. I don't want to hurt him."

Pippa stepped forward and took hold of her wrists, while her eyes said a silent plea. The image of a heartbroken Ollie tugged at Madison's heart. After all the help he had given her, the least she could do was look after his interests.

"Okay. I'll come to your place."

A satisfied smile spread across Pippa's face. She led the way toward her Austin Mini. Once Madison had settled into the pa.s.senger seat, Pippa turned the key and brought the engine to life. Heating soon started to fill the car, and Madison enjoyed the warm sensation that spread across her legs like a blanket.

The car didn't move.

Pippa kept her hands on the steering wheel, her profile frozen, without a single muscle moving on her usually expressive face. "I'm sorry for what I did," she repeated.

All right, Pippa had flirted with someone who wasn't her boyfriend.

But let's move on.

"I know you're sorry. Let's get to your place and talk about what's going on with Ollie. I'm sure we can find a solution."

"We had so much in common, him and me." Pippa stared blindly through the windscreen into the darkness outside.

"You still do," Madison rea.s.sured her friend, but Pippa wasn't listening.

"I never meant to hurt her. It wasn't part of the plan."

A chill seeped through Madison's clothes and gooseb.u.mps formed on her forearms.

"Her? I thought you were worried about Ollie."

Pippa left the subdued state she had been in since getting into the car and became agitated, shuffling in the leather seat, grasping and ungrasping the wheel, the muscles of her hands tense and prominent.

With an abrupt movement, she turned her face toward Madison and wailed, "She wasn't supposed to be in your bedroom." Her eyes were now bloodshot, a fever burning behind their fixed stare.

The cold Madison felt turned into a freezing wind, shattering her thoughts and soul. How long the silence lasted after Pippa's revelation, Madison had no idea. She was careful not to move, not to react.

She had found Peter.

Grabbing Pippa's hands from the wheel, she recalled the words from Mamie's book, the prayer she had learned by heart: Hail G.o.d of Abraham!

Hail G.o.d of Isaac!

Hail G.o.d of Jac- One of Pippa's hands escaped and plunged into her coat pocket. Madison didn't have time to see what she had hidden there. Something sharp pierced her trousers and entered her thigh.

After that, she couldn't feel anything anymore.

Chapter 57.

"SHE'S SO WEIRD," Monty said, pinching the bridge of his nose. Rupert stared back at his friend. He had been lost in thought since Madison's departure. Worries made him bite his lower lip. He had to stop, or soon he would start to taste his own blood. "Who's weird?"

"Your ex." Monty sounded as though he was stating the obvious. "Each time I meet her, she looks as if she's seen a ghost."

A chuckle burst from Rupert's mouth, so loud it morphed into a full-blown laugh. Patting Monty's shoulder, he managed to reply, "You have no idea, my friend, no idea."

Monty's eyes narrowed and he scratched his cheek. He started to speak but Rupert cut him off. "I shouldn't have let her go like this. She was upset." A knuckle replaced his lip in the chewing attack.

He could smell the lingering vanilla scent of her perfume.

"Come on, she's a big girl. Anyway, it's not your problem. You broke up with her, remember?"

"Yes, and you broadcast the news everywhere. Why did you talk to Harriet about it?" Rupert shook his head, struggling to hide an anger that surprised him.

"Wait a sec, mate." Monty raised his hands to protest his innocence. "I met her at the Turf last night. She asked about you while she was with the Incredible Hulk, your buddy Claus. When she heard you were free again, she turned ecstatic. Couldn't stop mumbling ..."

A realization sprang up in Rupert's mind.

Harriet.

She might have been jealous enough to play nasty tricks on Madison, ransacking her room, and whatever else.

"I had no idea she'd come to see you," Monty continued, stopping the suspicions from flooding into Rupert's mind.

"No, no." He struggled to solidify his thoughts. "I met her after my tutorial with McCain. She wanted to go for a drink and have a chat."

Monty's interest peaked and his eyebrows almost touched his hairline. "Did the two of you make up?"

"You're nuts. I'm done with Harriet." Rupert forced himself to sit on the Chippendale. He was also done with this part of his life. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, rubbed his chin and darted his eyes around the room, his head turning, as if looking for answers in the furniture.

Monty took the chair opposite Rupert and slid it closer to his friend. "This American girl has had a serious effect on you. I've never seen you this way before. Never. You're in love with her."

Focusing on Monty's chubby face, Rupert couldn't manage an answer. In love? That wasn't enough. He wasn't just in love with Madison. He loved the girl.

She was weird. Monty was right. Around her, it was Halloween every day of the year. But her crazy beliefs shouldn't change his feelings for her. They were who she was, and for her, he was ready to believe in anything.

Rupert had to get her back, to make her forgive. This time, he would do the things right.

As he looked at Monty, he doubted the guy could give her the best insight into a girl's psychology. No, he needed to get advice from someone who knew Madison and who happened to be a girl.

Pippa.

He took the coat that was hanging on the back of the door and rushed out of the house, leaving a confused Monty behind.

A violent wind had risen as night had fallen. Twigs and leaves swept across the ground. His clothes flapped against his legs. Dryness coated his throat and a cold metallic tang spread throughout his mouth.

Hopefully Pippa still lived at the same place as last year ... where they had slept together. Brus.h.i.+ng away any thought of awkwardness, Rupert got into his car and drove toward Cowley Road.

He was about to knock at the door of the cozy terraced house when he found the door ajar. Loud music was audible from the road outside. He called Pippa's name. Several times. No answer.

"What are you doing here?"

The voice came from behind him. Turning around, Rupert found himself staring straight into Ollie's round-rimmed gla.s.ses.

"I think you can guess. I wanted to talk to Pippa. About Madison ..."

"Why? You don't think you did enough damage yesterday. You couldn't have chosen a worse moment anyway. With what happened to Miss Lindsey ..." The guy started chewing on his fingernails instead of finis.h.i.+ng his sentence.