Oxford Shadows (28 page)

Florence ~ June 1533

THE FLOW OF THE River Arno rumbles and crashes against the foot of the cliff under the edge where I stand. Through my tears, I can distinguish the raging water foaming beneath me. The dying light of the day gives a frigid caress to the contours of my face. The passing of time hasn’t spared me. My skin lost the plumpness of youth a long time ago.

The wind steals my bitter laugh.

Henry’s bride-child, that Anne Boleyn, could be our daughter.

He promised he would call for me as soon as Katherine died. For Boleyn, he could not wait for death to come soon enough. He divorced the wife who had stood in the way of my path to happiness for so many years. He divorced her and took his own kingdom into heresy so that he could marry his new love.

My fingers tighten around the soft petals of the lily. Once Henry gave me one as a token of his love for me. Or so I thought in my naivety.

I bring the flower to my nose and breathe in its delicate and treacherous perfume. Hate ravages through the burning pain inside me. Hate for Henry. Hate for the woman for whom he betrayed my love. Hate for myself.

I will not die for nothing. God, Satan, whomever awaits me on the other side, I will make a pact with him. For Henry will never find happiness in the arms of another woman. Until we can be reunited in death, or in another lifetime, his fate is sealed.

I curse him.

I curse Anne, and I curse any woman who will lure him away from my memory. Now and forever.

Death will be my new beginning.

After a last skyward glance, I take a final and lethal step into the void.

Rupert grabbed Madison’s elbows and lifted her up. This time she hadn’t crashed entirely. She was only on her knees.
Some progress.
His hands encircled her waist and tightened their hold on her. “What did you see?”

Her cheek now rested against the soft material of his shirt. She breathed in his familiar lavender scent, letting his kiss on the crown of her head bring the warmth she so desperately needed. Her clothes were dry, but they should have been soaked by the cold waters of the river, as every single one of her organs was frozen solid.

It was the second time she had experienced death. Before it had been Peter’s fingers around Sarah’s throat when he strangled her. A few seconds ago, the fall into that river. A river in a country she had never set foot in.

Rupert was on his knees, as she was, and he cradled her face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away the tears that tickled down her cheeks.

“She killed herself. Liliana killed herself and cursed Henry and all the women in his life.”

Rupert’s eyes were searching for Madison. “I’m here, baby, I’m here.” His kiss had the salty taste of her tears.

Madison tried hard to attach herself to him and not let go again. She failed. The more she stared at him, at the dark blue of his eyes, the deeper she fell. The more she was sucked back into the past, into his past.

Fear cascaded over her, numbing her mouth, for she wouldn’t tell him the truth. Simply couldn’t.

“You’re scaring me, Maddie.” The pressure of his fingers around the sides of her head intensified. “Hold onto me. Don’t go back to wherever your visions took you.”

Madison seized his forearms and tightened her hold on them. Four years ago, a bit more maybe, Rupert had driven down that fateful road in the Cotswolds, his mother, Laura, in the passenger seat. Her death had thrown him into years of guilt and grief. Finally—
finally
—he had succeeded in turning the page.

“Rupert …” A sob swallowed his name.

“What did you see? Tell me.”

“I’m so sorry … so very sorry.”

In a tender gesture, Rupert took hold of her hands and brought them to his lips for a kiss. “Don’t be sorry for blanking out. I’m glad I’m here when it happened.”

“Liliana and Henry haven’t only been together in the sixteenth century … in Florence.”

“We already know that. I believe you now. I
do
believe you. My dad is Henry, and, willingly or unwillingly, he’s a danger to Camilla.”

“No. It’s all about Liliana. She’s connected to you too.”

Frustration flashed through Rupert’s eyes. “How can she be related to me?”

“She’s your mother.” And because her statement didn’t ignite any reaction in Rupert, Madison elaborated. “Liliana and Laura, they’re the same.”

Rupert jolted back and jumped to his feet. “You’re wrong.” He stared down at her with disgust, as if she was covered with filth. There was none of his previous concern in the harsh light in his eyes and the angle of his mouth.

“If Hugo and Camilla are Henry and Anne, then your mom, Laura, has to be Liliana. Both women were wronged by the same man, four centuries apart.”

“It could be anyone else in my father’s past. He broke the heart of more than one woman, believe me.”

“I saw her. I saw your mom, first with your father when she was expecting you. They stood around the statue of Mercury at Christ Church. They were students together at Christ Church, weren’t they?”

Rupert nodded. Dread had frozen his beautiful face.

“Then I saw her when she found out …” The words left a sour taste in Madison’s mouth. “When she found out about your father cheating. She lost a child then. Your mother was pregnant again and she lost her child.”

“That loss would not have turned her into a murderer. My mum was the most loving person I’ve ever met. She’d never hurt anybody, especially not a child.”

“I know she was good, I know.” Madison left her kneeling position and stepped toward Rupert. He recoiled and retreated. His reaction double-slapped her. “But there was also some of Liliana in her; Liliana, whose life was broken by Henry’s desertion. Liliana, who haunted Henry so that he’d never find love again and never have a male heir. Liliana wanted to be the one giving him a son, and that’s what she did in another lifetime as Laura. That boy was you.”

Rupert bent forward as if Madison had punched him straight in the stomach.

She had to continue. “You told me what you were arguing about the night of the car crash—your father and his latest conquest. I saw it through her eyes, I saw you driving the SUV. What your father said was true. She wanted a divorce. She wanted to be your mother first and foremost because she loved you so much. But then she died.”

And lost her last chance of happiness.
Laura hadn’t been happy as a wife, and she wasn’t given a chance to be happy as a mother.

“She miscarried a baby after finding Hugo with another woman,” Madison continued. “She lost you because she died prematurely. Don’t you see what happened? Laura’s untimely death fueled Liliana’s vengeful spirit and gave new life to her curse.” Madison swallowed a gulp of air as she had rushed through the words without a pause.

Rupert was shaking his head, while the rest of his body was rigid. He had struggled to believe the father he had fought against most of his life was a murderer. He wasn’t going to allow the memory of his beloved mother to be thrown into the mud and stamped over. Not by anybody. Not even Madison. It had taken almost three weeks for him to believe in his father’s involvement. It had required Camilla’s fall, the mysterious car trying to run over her, and finally Madison almost drowning in the lake at Magway. It would take a lifetime for him to throw the shadow of a doubt over his mother’s memory.

“If the labor has started, Camilla and her baby have, at most, a few hours to be saved.” Madison caught Rupert’s gaze and held it. “Are you willing to take the risk? The risk of not believing me?”
The risk of not believing in me.

“You’re asking me to stop believing in what I hold the most precious.”

What he held most precious wasn’t Madison. Disappointment stabbed straight into her. She had to ignore the pain. It wasn’t about her. It wasn’t even about Rupert.

“I’ll go after whoever’s responsible,” she said. “Are you ready to let Camilla die?”

Rupert flinched but shut himself in silence.

With self-loathing for the hurt she caused to the man she loved, Madison forced herself to add, “Are you ready to let your sister die?”

Rupert shut his eyes. He didn’t want to face reality. But he would have to.

“Are you ready to risk your sister’s life?” Madison repeated, forging on.

Rupert didn’t flinch this time. Not even a single twitch.

With an angry swipe of her fingers, Madison wiped the last wetness left from her tears. She kicked her brain into gear. She had to think straight, form a plan, decide what her next step would be. The clock was ticking.

“I need the keys to your car,” she told Rupert with the calmest voice she could muster, at least the least resentful. No response. “I need them now.”

Remembering Rupert throwing them on the side table in the hallway downstairs, Madison spun around and left the room.

“I’ll drive.” Rupert cut her off mid-exit.

She almost stumbled when he overtook her in a few strides to lead the way out of his father’s room. She sped up to catch up with him at the top of the staircase. With one foot already on the first step down, his body shifted so he could stare back at her.

“I don’t want anything bad to happen to anybody, especially not the baby. But don’t get my mother involved in this shit. As if my father wasn’t enough …”

His warning sounded like a threat and Madison froze while he rushed down the stairs. Her next intake of breath hitched. She fought the heaviness in her body to follow in his steps.

40

RUPERT’S CALL TO The Portland Hospital was his first source of frustration. He’d asked about the Earl and Countess of Huxbury. As he couldn’t prove he was family over the phone, they had declined to answer his questions.

With Madison pushed against the passenger seat, her hands clasped tightly over her thighs, he pushed his Morgan to the max. He also brushed aside any respect for traffic signs. He doubted he’d finish the night still holding his driving license. But attracting the police’s attention wasn’t what he needed right now. The thought made him relax his foot on the accelerator.

The roaring of the Morgan diminished and Madison threw him a surprised sideways glance. At least he thought she did, as he couldn’t take his eyes of the road to look at her.

A sense of betrayal mingled with frustration and confusion inside him. Why would Madison turn against his mother?

He had already turned against his own father by putting his faith in her “visions.” Despite all the resentment and tension Rupert had felt over the years for his father, suspecting Hugo of the worst had torn Rupert apart.

Turning against his late mother didn’t just tear him apart; it screwed with everything he held dear. He resented Madison for cornering him, for twisting his whole belief system.

“How close are we?” Her voice was neutral, but he could hear the strain from hiding her emotions.

“Five minutes. The hospital’s near Great Portland Street tube station.”

Madison nodded, but Rupert knew her knowledge of London was still too vague for her to locate their current position.

In a side street off the Euston Road, he picked an available parking space. With a few jerking turns of the wheel, he eased the Morgan between two vans. It was still early in the evening in central London, so he couldn’t be too picky about where to leave the car.

“If we hurry up, we’ll be at the clinic in five.”

Madison nodded. Rupert didn’t wait for her but took the lead instead. He swore her sheepish gaze was glued to his back. Conflicting emotions tied his stomach in knots: desire to protect this unborn child versus protecting the memory of his mother.
Maybe there’s a way to keep both.

To avoid thinking about those feelings any longer, he broke into a jog, not checking to see if Madison was following him. He stepped into The Portland Hospital.

The Portland wasn’t your average hospital. The whole place—starting with the marbled floors—screamed money. He didn’t keep the door open for Madison, but she was there, right beside him when he reached the reception desk. Without any preamble, he introduced himself to the uniformed clerk and presented his driving license as proof of his identity.

“My father and stepmother must’ve arrived not long ago. I tried to call my father,” he lied, “but he must’ve disconnected his phone when he went into the maternity ward.” He punctuated the sentence with his most charming smile.

The woman on the other side of the desk blushed and babbled a few welcoming words. “The Countess hasn’t shown up tonight.”

“Are you sure? They left their London home an hour ago at the most.” Rupert glared at the lifts and pondered skipping the clerk altogether and checking for himself. One delivery room at a time, if need be.

“I’ve been here the whole evening, Mr. Vance, and I can assure you they’ve not arrived yet. Maybe there was a last-minute change.”

The soft pressure of Madison’s hand on his forearm dragged him back to the here and now. “He’s taken her somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I guessed that much.” His words didn’t disguise the dismissal. She flinched and guilt sliced through him. “My dad’s car has a GPS. We might be able to track him down that way.”