Oxford Whispers

by Marion Croslydon

  Aware of her washed-out gown and messy ponytail, she straightened up against the pillow. The movement tore her midsection apart and she expelled a hiss of discomfort at the exertion.

  Jackson rushed to her rescue, but Madison pushed him away with false bravado. “I’m fine.” Her shoulders bowed over her chest, and she grabbed at the aching area.

  “Will you accept flowers?”

  She looked at the stems of the snowberries artfully bound together, and gazed up into his warm, brown eyes. “Thank you.” A thickness formed in her throat, signaling the onset of self-pitying tears. “The police left and they weren’t the best company.”

  Jackson laid the bouquet on the table next to the TV set. “I think you should be fine. I talked to Inspector Crawley. So did Ollie.”

  The mention of her friend’s name brought soreness to her lungs.

  Jackson must have felt her distress as he continued. “He explained about Pippa’s erratic behavior and her violent jealousy toward you. With that and the DNA results from Miss Lindsey’s crime scene, you should be fine. They still don’t know where Pippa got the drugs from. Her father is a surgeon, and she is, was, a med student. She might have stolen them.”

  Madison grimaced. “Anyway, they’re letting me go back to the States, at least for the holidays. So I guess my reputation is pretty much cleared.” She sank back into her thoughts and added, “I’m not sure my conscience is …”

  Jackson edged closer to her, tilted his head and slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Ollie knows you did everything you could to bring her back.”

  “He’s wrong. If I had been better prepared …”

  He stepped forward and squeezed her forearm. His tone was firm when he said, “Pippa’s death isn’t due to a failure of magic, but to a failure of human nature.”

  “Ollie hasn’t been here to visit me.” Not to mention the man she so longed to see and be with.

  “He is heartbroken. He also feels guilty for failing to see how distressed Pippa was. Give him time to heal.”

  Rupert, though, might not ever heal. He had opened up to her, but she had deceived him, then pushed him away when he had come to her rescue. Madison knew enough of him to suspect he might never forgive her. And she couldn’t face the banishment from his life.

  Sitting up on the hospital bed, she balanced her legs and touched the spotless floor. With an exercise of will, she took a few tentative steps, but the effort was too strenuous. She would have collapsed without Jackson’s clumsy attempt to support her. He made her swivel and settle on a well-worn armchair.

  The contact lasted long enough for their eyes to lock and blood to flush both their cheeks.

  Jackson was the first to recover. He cleared his throat and joked, “I’m not sure you’re quite ready for a ten-hour flight.”

  His attempt to divert her attention failed.

  “I’m so sorry.” Madison searched his eyes to read his reactions.

  He stepped backward to lean against the edge of the bed.

  “You have nothing to apologize for. I’ll have to deal with my feelings on my own.”

  “When I’m around you, my powers feel—I feel—so much stronger. I hope you don’t think I misled you or took advantage of your trust. Like your ex-girlfriend did. I never confided in anyone the way I have in you.”

  A glimpse of surprise sparkled in his eyes.

  “I fell in love with you. Call it love at first sight, or whatever. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were being yourself. But I shouldn’t have. That is far beyond the duty I was assigned when they sent me here.”

  Who had sent him to Oxford? She wanted to ask him, but the admission of his love for her took precedent. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say to that.

  Jackson stared down at his hands, as if they were those of a murderer. He shouldn’t be the one struggling with guilt. His honesty instilled shame in her. She had suspected him of the worst, of being Peter.

  Madison extended her arm and laid her hand on his. “Maybe when I come back, we can start again from scratch. We can learn how to get along as friends.”

  “I’d like that very much. We have so much to talk about.”

  He stood, leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “Get well soon and come back to us.”

  He smiled, turned and left.

  Chapter 62

  FOR MADISON, graveyards had become a bit overcrowded these days.

  Opening up to the dead meant that she now could see them around her as she stood in the cemetery alongside St. Giles Church. At least, the few stragglers who couldn’t move on. They walked about on the freshly cut grass, their clothes telling Madison of the times when they had lived.

  Of all places, Oliver had asked her to meet him here, in front of Sarah’s grave. And Peter’s.

  Madison dreaded seeing her friend. She was responsible for his hurt, for his losing his first love. She bit her lip and glanced down at her fingertips. Her shoulders hunched. She was desperate to get on her flight back to the U.S. Just a few more hours to wait.

  She spotted him through the crooked headstones, his willowy figure basking in the pale rays of the sun. His progress in her direction was slow but determined. The last week had aged him, taking away his quirkiness. Madison touched her own face, wondering if Pippa’s death had had the same effect on her.

  Taking deep breaths, she tried to loosen up. In vain. She combed her fingers through her hair. That’s when she saw what he held in his hands.

  A bouquet of red roses.

  She couldn’t divert her gaze from the flowers. She pointed at the bouquet and asked, her voice shaky, “Why this?” Then another question burst out of her mouth, “Why here?”

  Ollie wasn’t deterred by her lack of welcome. His eyes stared straight into hers, their former puppy look gone.

  “While we waited at the hospital, Rupert, Jackson and I pieced the whole story together.” He nodded solemnly toward the moss-covered grave at his feet. “Their story.”

  Cheerful and fearless, a robin landed on the gravestone, springing about from one tiny foot to the other.

  Ollie continued. “They told me what you hid from me, what you could have shared when we came here, looking for Sarah’s grave, or after we found Miss Lindsey’s body, or even right from the start, when you had those visions.”

  Yes, she could have. Maybe Ollie would have believed her. He might even have helped her deal with all that madness.

  Just as he might have turned his back on her and called her a freak.

  Madison didn’t answer his accusation. He handed her the roses. She accepted the bouquet and stared down at the flowers without the faintest idea of what to do with them. But Ollie had a plan.

  “The three of them have found their peace now. But we need to find peace as well.” His voice cracked. “So does Pippa.”

  By losing his love, Ollie had become involved in the civil war tragedy. He wasn’t an onlooker anymore. Madison understood what he had in mind.

  She walked alongside of the grave, knelt, and laid the roses on top of the stone. After a Hail Mary, she retraced her steps to stand by his side. His face had reddened. Tears coursed down his cheeks. Guilt shot to her core.

  She had so much to learn. The path ahead would be long and sinewy. But she had started with the most difficult step. Never would she closed her eyes again, or clasp her hands over her ears to hush the whispers from the world beyond the everyday one.

  Madison grabbed her friend’s hand and squeezed. They remained standing quietly for a while. The sound of the wind whistling around the gravestones covered the distant noise of Oxford bustle.

  The church bells struck ten, and Ollie asked, “Do you need a lift to go to the race this afternoon? I guess Rupert has been there since early this morning.”

  “No. I mean, I don’t plan to go. I’ll take the shuttle straight to the airport.” She had managed to convince herself she didn’t hurt anymore.

  “Why?” Ollie’s tone was a
s terse as hers had been flat.

  Why? Because Rupert hadn’t come back to see her at the hospital, because he had broken up with her a week before, because he didn’t believe in the essence of who she was, and never would.

  Madison couldn’t help but react. “He’s over me.”

  A short laugh gurgled out of Ollie’s mouth. “Do you really believe that?”

  She shuffled her feet, unease invading her.

  “Rupert would have risked anything to find you, to save you. I know because I was there, helping him.”

  A fuzzy feeling warmed the pit of her stomach and tingled at her heart. She had to fight the emotion. “Then why didn’t he come to the hospital?”

  “The chap was there, next to your bed, holding your hand, the whole time you were out cold.” Ollie frowned and added, “Maybe he’s left you to figure out if you want him in your life, now that this whole thing has taken center stage. You weren’t exactly friendly when we found you in the crypt.”

  Madison stared down at her feet. Yes, she remembered. Without Rupert’s strength she wouldn’t have been able to perform the exorcism, but then she had pushed him away.

  “Are you done here?” Ollie interrupted the flow of her memories.

  She nodded.

  “Then I’ll take you to Mortlake, where the race finishes.”

  Hoping to avert a flow of tears, she cleared her throat. “I don’t want to bother you.”

  “Please. You’re my best friend.”

  The title meant the world to Madison. After all that had happened, she was still worthy of his friendship. He’d forgiven her for Pippa. Now she had to get on with the hard work of forgiving herself.

  Ollie continued. “And as much as Vance gets on my nerves sometimes, the dude is head over heels in love with you. In my books, that makes him a friend of mine.”

  How she hoped Ollie was right.

  Chapter 63

  THE CROWD WAS ecstatic. Oxford had won, and students from all the colleges were celebrating.

  In a daze of exhaustion, Rupert leaned against the bar of the boathouse where the VIP party took place. He didn’t feel like stepping into the center of the room and speaking to anyone, stranger or not. Instead he kept his gaze downward, blocking out the cheers and shouts.

  While most of his friends and teammates enjoyed the triumph of victory, ordering beers and wine, he’d stuck to elderflower water. He didn’t mind its flowery taste anymore, but had learned to enjoy it.

  Who would have thought he’d become a teetotaler? Four months ago he wouldn’t have bet a penny on that. But hey, so many things can happen in a short amount of time.

  You could train twice a day, six days a week, until every muscle in your body burns. You could win a legendary race. You could turn your life around.

  You could fall in love, fall so deeply that no rope would be long enough to climb out, if you had any desire to.

  “What’s your father given you to celebrate your win?” Monty appeared next to him and nodded toward Hugo, who was deep in conversation with Coach Bartlett on the other side of the room.

  Monty held a pint of Coke in one hand and encircled Rupert’s shoulders with the other arm. Judging by the guy’s solid stance, he had stuck to the soda until now. At least Rupert had managed to help one person on this planet.

  “Nothing, I’m afraid. We’ve hardly spoken with each other since the wedding.”

  Monty took a gulp from his glass, then wiped his wet lips on the back of his sleeve. “So no fancy new car, no round-the-world trip, nothing.”

  “Nope. I’m looking for a part-time job next term. That way, I won’t have to answer to my father for every choice I make.”

  Monty tried to whistle, but he missed the effect and spat instead. “Ooops, sorry.” His apologetic expression had frozen while he looked above Rupert’s shoulder. “Someone’s here for you. I’ll make myself scarce.”

  Rupert followed Monty’s gaze. When he saw Madison, his heart started galloping faster than at the peak of the race. The drum resonated between his ears, and he could have sworn that he blushed.

  Then he noticed how frail she looked. The hospital stay had taken its toll on her. How he had wanted to stay by her side until she woke up. She now held her right arm wrapped around her narrow waist, as if to protect her ribs from any shock.

  “Hi.” Her voice was softer than he remembered. With her free hand, she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

  “Hi.” He managed to block the flow of words that surged from his lips.

  “Congratulations.” She looked around the party. “You deserved to win. You trained so hard.”

  “Thank you.”

  He didn’t trust himself to say any more. He had said too much in the past and he had hurt her. He wanted to listen this time around, listen to what she needed, what she wanted.

  “I came to say goodbye. I’m on my way to Heathrow. I’m flying back to the States tonight.”

  Panic entangled his thoughts and emotions. He hid his reaction by moving from foot to foot and keeping his reply neutral. “It isn’t the end of the term quite yet.”

  “No. But I need to be home. With my family. After all that’s happened. There’s something I need to tell you before I leave, in addition to ‘thank you,’” she said. With her free hand, she grabbed a crumpled piece of paper from the pocket of her jeans. “I know you might not want to hear about them anymore, but, well, I think you should know how the story ended.”

  He knew how the story ended. He had found the extract from Robert’s diary. He had also been there in the crypt. Curious, he leaned in and asked her anyway. “How did it end?”

  “With me. It ends with me, and hopefully it will continue through me.”

  He felt his eyebrows arch.

  “Rose went on to have a very long life, as Rose Alspeth. After the restoration of monarchy with Charles the Second, her parents—Anne and Joseph Alspeth—left England for America.”

  “How did you find out?”

  “I had plenty of time to kill at the hospital and free wi-fi. I had already invested in an ancestry database for my research on Sarah, even if I had to purchase the U.S. equivalent as well.”

  She grimaced and continued. “I was very lucky in my research because I didn’t have to go far down the line. Rose’s granddaughter married a Berthier in La Nouvelle Orleans.”

  She stopped there, while the information reached for Rupert’s brain and memories. He knew the name. “Your grandmother. Her father was a Berthier. You told me that night at the Turf.”

  Madison nodded, a shy smile making her lips curve upward. “I’ll need to research more, of course. There isn’t only one Berthier family in Louisiana. But my gut tells me I’m on the right track. That would explain a hell of a lot.”

  Rupert didn’t comment, processing what he’d learned. Madison descended from Rose and Sarah. In a weird and unexpected way, he wasn’t surprised, as if he had already known.

  In front of him, she fidgeted. “Anyway, I’d better go. Ollie is waiting to drive me to the airport. All the details are here, in case you’re interested.” She handed him the piece of paper. “Again, congratulations on the race. You see, this time you managed to win and go to your tutorials.”

  Rupert gave a short, lifeless laugh. She was referring to their first argument, at the Anchor Inn. His shoulders sagged.

  She lingered there for an instant. “Thank you for coming after me… for saving me.”

  He nodded, eager to hear more from her. But she turned and made her way through the tipsy, boisterous crowd and disappeared. Had he seen tears in her eyes?

  He stayed on the same spot, unmoving, immobile, barely breathing. Shaking himself out of his slumber, he walked toward one of the windows of the boathouse. From there, he caught sight of her silhouette stepping out onto the riverside footpath that separated the building from the Thames. The distance between them tore his heart apart.

  He opened the paper she had given him and stared at the writi
ng, words and names, births, marriages and deaths, covering centuries.

  Robert and Sarah hadn’t met a happy ending. They hadn’t shared the highs and lows that life had in store for the living. They hadn’t supported each other and grown old together. Social and religious divides had condemned their love. So had Peter.

  But nothing, no one, could keep him from being with Madison now. Except himself.

  “Son, I have someone to introduce you to.”

  His father’s voice brought him back to the party. With reluctance, he tore his gaze away from Madison. Next to his father stood a middle-aged man wearing a custom-made suit and a satisfied smile.

  “Albert here competed for Oxford as well, a few years before I did myself. He’s come today to support his university and was very impressed with your performance.”

  “Father, I can’t stay right now …” Rupert didn’t care about being polite. He gave a quick glance back through the window and saw Madison walking further away.

  Ignoring his son’s answer, Hugo forged on. “Albert is leading a brand-new venture in Asia, raising private funds to invest in local businesses. Very kindly, he suggested you could join him this summer. A bit of traveling would do you well after a hard year studying and training for the race.”

  “Father—”

  Hugo cut him off. “Since you were not very enthusiastic about the opportunity I offered you earlier this year.”

  That was it. Rupert had to stand up to his father once and for all.

  “I haven’t changed my mind. I accepted the internship at the Times and I intend to work there.”

  “Humm …” Albert the banker excused himself and disappeared.

  Hugo’s cheeks reddened. A very rare occurrence. “Do not go there again, Rupert.”

  Rupert shook his head and laid his hand over his father’s forearm. Hugo didn’t recoil at the physical contact.

  “It’s time for us to let go, Dad. Of all this grief, the betrayals, the resentment.” Rupert hesitated. As much as he was ready to move on, some things still cost him to say.