Eeck. She knocked down a couple more sips of the chardonnay. "I never knew my father. He left before I was born." She leaned over her gla.s.s, as if searching for her reflection in the straw-colored liquid. "Didn't want anything to do with us, I guess."

"Welcome to the club. My father stayed-that's my problem."

She blurted out the words. "My mother owns the town bar, my aunt is a nun, and my grandmother is the parish voodoo specialist."

Rupert's whistle ended in a cheeky laugh. "I say. Can't compete with all that."

"My grandmother was born in the thirties, just before the war." Madison was on a roll. "Her own mother was an African-American who got knocked up by a Berthier." Realizing her parish's n.o.bility wasn't world famous, she explained, "They're aristocracy in Pierre Part."

Her love for her Mamie, for the bayou, for this dysfunctional family of hers rushed to her heart.

"And I take it Pierre Part is where you come from. I've no idea where it is." His contrite frown brushed at her now.

"About one hour's drive from Baton Rouge, but until not that long ago the town was cut off from the rest of the state. We used to be fishermen, surrounded by water."

Madison wanted to paint her home in the most vivid colors, make him fall in love with the sticky, burning Louisiana air. "We still speak Cajun at home. Well, Mamie does. My mother fakes mostly." She could hear her Southern drawl creeping back into her speech pattern as her vowels elongated.

"Feeling homesick, are you?" Rupert teased her by pushing at her hand. His body shuffled on the seat, and in doing so his legs shifted until they surrounded her own denim-clad thighs.

The possessive touch caused her body to tingle with awareness. She didn't want it to stop there, either. She wanted to be held by him. Just like at the party when he'd rescued her from Claus. To be kissed by him.

Rupert's legs put extra pressure on hers. Their eyes locked in a challenge. Heat exploded in the lower part of her anatomy.

Determined to cool down her desire, she forced herself to speak. The flow of words was slower than it had been before. "Without my aunt Louise, I would never have left Pierre Part."

"She must be the nun."

"Yes, an Ursuline. She teaches in their school in Baton Rouge. That's where I boarded."

"You boarded? Just like me. We both grew up away from our families."

They fell silent for a moment, the alcove sheltering the memories of their childhoods, their legs brushing softly against each other. The wine made the blood in Madison's veins rush, and she relaxed back against the cushion, staring through the window at the falling snow. Rupert's eyes were fixed on her, but she didn't dare return his gaze.

A voice inside her head screeched, What's going on here? She shifted on the bench. Before losing it, she had to leave. Her heart demanded she stay.

"I'd love to go out and take some fresh air." Could Rupert read her thoughts?

Leaving was the rational plan, the safe plan, just not with him.

But for once in her life, Madison had decided she did not want to be rational. Or safe.

Sarah hadn't wanted that for herself either. Madison stared into Rupert's eyes, and she saw why Sarah had risked everything for her man.

Chapter 20.

Oxford a September 1650 I AM BACK IN THE barn where Robert recovered from his injury in the spring. I have not been to this hiding place since I last saw him, when we kissed.

The dark September night covered my discreet escape from the house. Under the feather-filled mattress I sleep on, I have hidden the secret missives my Cavalier has sent me these last three months.

He wrote at least once a week, short letters, sweet messages, tender words, each of them warming my heart and nurturing my love for him.

Tonight, I am here waiting for Robert.

I have tidied up my surroundings as much as I could. Spiderwebs still spread across the corners of the battered roof. A messy mix of shovels, pitchforks and brooms lean against the wall, at the side of the entrance gate. All I can see is the clean straw covering the earth floor, tempting like the softest of blankets.

I have missed Robert so much, and I do not intend to let politics and war block the path to my love. He is my life.

Outside, I distinguish the sound of a horse's hooves. Through the gaps in the wood I see a man drop from the saddle and make his way to the gate of the barn. Before he lifts the latch I have enough time to run behind the post, where the animals used to shelter.

Robert steps into the barn and I run to his arms.

He lifts me with ease, as if I weigh no more than a single feather.

Together, we spin around and around. When my feet touch back on the earth, I am lightheaded, and my heart pounds like a military drum.

"You are even more beautiful than in my dreams." His voice is softer than in my memory.

"I was not sure you would come. You must be the fastest Cavalier to journey from Scotland." I giggle, looking up and down at his riding costume, his blue waistcoat with its wide b.u.t.tonholes.

"I could not wait to escape the debacle of Dunbar. Charles might now be the King of the Scots, but our cause is lost here in England. We did not have enough time to train the Scot soldiers properly. Cromwell will make us pay for this latest act of bravado."

"You should have stayed in Edinburgh. I hear the castle is still holding out. It is far too dangerous for you here."

I want him by my side, as the Lord is my witness, but not at the price of his safety.

"Do not worry yourself, Sarah."

He takes my hand and leads me to a rickety stool in the center of the barn. I sit on it and he kneels at my feet, holding my hands in his. He smells of fresh air, of wild ridings through the elements. His eyes roam over my face, linger on my throat, but elude my bosom. My skin tingles. More than ever, I wish my attire could be somewhat sophisticated. The low neckline of my mulberry gown is filled in with smocks and a wide linen collar, barely trimmed with lace.

"I am glad you are not wearing one of those nasty hood-like caps. Your hair is too beautiful to be hidden." He caresses it with his fingertips.

We have so many questions to ask each other. I lose track of time, absorbed in my Cavalier's adventures. I understand that his tales are expunged of the violence he has encountered, but he fills in the blanks of the last several months.

Robert strokes my palm with his thumb, and excitement vibrates through my core. I want this man with no shame, no guilt. He is the one G.o.d has meant for me to be with.

I lean down toward his mouth, and I kiss him. My hands tremble when they circle around his neck. Our mouths brush each other, and his tongue slides between my lips. Pleasure spreads through my being and I long for more, much more.

It is Robert who seizes my arms and softly pushes me away.

"You have to be careful. I am only a man. I care for your virtue."

"I do not."

I am speaking the truth, my truth, the only one that matters in this world of lies and power struggles. I see my words have shocked him.

"I understand what I am doing. Who knows when we will see each other again? I want to live every moment with you to the full."

He casts his eyes downward, and my outburst now embarra.s.ses me. I wrap my arms around my chest, a tight knot caught in my throat.

"Do not feel ashamed. I want the same thing as you. But your wellbeing comes first and foremost." I start shaking my head in rebellion, but he continues. "n.o.body can say when the hostilities will stop. If anybody became aware of your dalliance with a Royalist, your life would be unbearable."

I place my finger on his mouth, and he stops talking. "I am aware of all the implications. This is my choice. I will not take one single step back."

I stand and his hand in mine, lead him to the bed of hay at the back of the grange. I open a large blanket and spread it wide on the floor. I lie on it and extend my arm for Robert to sit next to me.

Without a spoken word we have become man and wife, cradled in a cushion of sweet-smelling hay. Murmurs and whispers suffice in the starry September night. No church, no priest, only the two of us.

I will love Robert Dallembert until my last breath. And beyond.

"YES, PLEASE. I'M NOT used to drinking so much wine. I'm a bit light-headed."

Liar.

Rupert held her coat, and while she wrapped the scarf around her neck, he put on his navy blue jacket. Outside the Turf, the cold took her aback but he tucked her under his arm. Madison fought her need to lean against his strength, to indulge in being pet.i.te, fragile, next to him.

Once they stood on New College Lane, she tilted her head upward to ask him, "Where do you want to go?"

"To my secret place ..." His smile and closeness could have made her melt on the spot, despite the polar temperature. "We're going to break the law."

Madison was a law-abiding citizen but she followed him along the cobbled streets, pa.s.sing the Bodleian Library, to Radcliffe Square, all the time wondering if he really meant it. The Radcliffe Camera, with its circular shape and Corinthian columns, stood grand in the center. They were alone on the square, alone in the world.

"Rupert, the Camera isn't a secret place, and I would prefer breaking the law in a less popular location. I'm sure there are CCTV cameras spying on us right now."

"You Yanks are so conventional."

He seized Madison's hand and ran to the other side of the square, alongside the Fellows' Garden of Exeter College. Pippa had taken Madison into her college. They had walked in its tranquil garden and sat on the terrace overlooking Radcliffe Square.

Rupert took a key ring out of his jacket. After selecting one of the smaller keys, he inserted it into the ancient, wooden door in the college wall and opened it.

Her jaw dropped. "It's not our college, and even if it were, you shouldn't have those keys. We could get caught." Madison checked around her with alarm. "Thank G.o.d it's Christmas and d.a.m.n cold," she muttered, following Rupert up the steep stairs leading to the terrace. For the first time in her life, breaking the rules didn't feel so bad. She relaxed.

Immaculate snow covered the promontory, untouched now that most college residents had left for the holidays.

"So what about that, Mad Hatter? It helps having friends in high places. I bet none of your nerdy clique could have opened that door." Rupert stood in front of her, with the square's streetlights shining behind him. He might have been planting his victory flag on top of Mount Everest.

She sharpened her words. "My friends don't need to impress anyone." "I'm sorry." He moved toward her. "I'm a jerk sometimes. Make that most of the time." He sounded as if he meant it.

"My friends are good people," she murmured.

"I know. So are you."

"That's a pretty cheesy comment for a cool guy like you."

Madison kept her head down. He lifted her chin with his forefinger and looked into her eyes. She had read about those moments when time stopped, when life froze and turned upside-down. Rupert and her, in the Fellows' Garden of Exeter College, it was one of those moments.

Despite the cold and the snow, the air she breathed felt warm and sticky. The heat in her lungs soon burned her chest and radiated throughout her body.

She had to get closer to him, to bridge the foot-wide gap separating them. But he leaned toward her, lowering his head one inch at a time. His lips brushed hers, he withdrew, then he bent and kissed her again.

His mouth softened and ma.s.saged hers, fireworks exploded in her consciousness and ignited micro-braziers along her spine, extending to the tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Rupert lifted her like a weightless doll against his chest and deepened their kiss. Her body was crushed against his. She wrapped her fingers around the back of his neck and let his tongue tease hers, savoring his taste, minty and salty at once. He increased the pressure and changed the angle of his head. The extra friction sent her into an agony of pleasure.

From far, far away, inner voices warned Madison. He already had a girlfriend. He was out of her league. He had even slept with Pippa. She laid her hand on his cheek and pushed him away. While she struggled to get back on her feet, he squinted, as if extracted from a deep sleep.

"I'm sorry, Maddie. I didn't want to push myself on you."

His eyes were clear of any lie, but she stepped back further nevertheless.

"Please don't go," Rupert pleaded, and she stopped.

Fleeing was the easiest and safest option.

"I'm scared."

"So am I." He shuffled on his feet as if embarra.s.sed by his confession. "I won't do anything you don't want me to do. We can just talk."

"It's December and freezing."

Rupert held out his hand in invitation. She walked back and put her hand in his. Relief dissipated the unhappiness in his face.

"Let's sit on the bench. The view is nice," he added. "I'll keep you warm."

Madison sat and relaxed against his body. While holding her in his arms, he started playing the tour guide, taking her on a time trip as they had done at Stratford-Upon-Avon. He told her how the Radcliffe Camera had inspired Tolkien, and how the author had used it as a backdrop for The Lord of the Rings, and then he told her about the novelist and Oxford professor C. S. Lewis and many other stories Oxford had given birth to.

Lulled by Rupert's voice, she realized her eyelids had closed when he placed a kiss on them.

"h.e.l.lo, Sleeping Beauty," he whispered. She straightened up, surprised at feeling so groggy.

"Do you want to go to bed?" Rupert asked, and when she frowned, he added, "It's not an indecent proposal. I'm not a complete a.r.s.ehole."

"You are, Rupert Vance. It's part of your charm." She stared at him for a moment. Maybe it was the chardonnay, or the magic of the snowy night, but she had forgotten everything and everyone outside of their warm bubble. "Do you want to go to bed with me?"

Chapter 21.