Oxford Shadows by Marion Croslydon Read Free Book Online Page A

you.” What she really meant was: I’m so glad I met you.
    He gave her a fake military salute. “You can take the girl out of the South, but you can’t take the South out of the girl.”
    After humming along with the song, Madison warned, “A piece of advice though: if you want to attract girls your own age you should reconsider your choice of music.”
    Sam threw his head back and let out an all-male laugh. “Thanks for the advice, buddy.”
    The drawl in his words eased some of the tension that had been pent up inside Madison since the concert at Christ Church Cathedral.

8

    RUPERT HIT THE HARD leather cricket ball and it raced through the outfield. He and Monty managed to make three more runs. Rupert faced the next ball and smashed it through a gap in the field, then watched it cross the boundary at great speed to bring them victory. The applause of the crowd drowned the cheers of the winning side. The half-day was over.
    Rupert took off his batting gloves and tightened his hand into a winning fist. Monty’s last day of freedom would end with a victory. Mission accomplished. Still, worries for his friend tempered any satisfaction he derived from one of his best batting performances.
    “You were on fire, man.” Monty slapped Rupert on the back in congratulations.
    “I wasn’t bad at all, I must say.”
    They crossed the rectangular field toward the back of Blenheim Palace. A short ride from Oxford, Blenheim was the seat of the dukes of Marlborough and the birthplace of Winston Churchill. It made Magway Manor, the Vance family estate, look like a country cottage. But Rupert had never been a fan of Blenheim; to him, the palace looked like a mausoleum.
    “Well done,” Madison called.
    She was strutting in their direction, a glass of Pimm’s in her right hand. She was celebrating the sunny day with a dress Rupert had seen her wearing in Pierre Part during mid-term. A dress he had lifted in one of the scarce intimate moments they had shared away from her family. Shutting his eyes, he killed the lust building up inside him. He hadn’t touched Madison since the brief fumble before the concert at Christ Church, and this three-day drought was the longest he could survive without sex with her. Planting a kiss on her lips, he tasted the minty flavor left by the Pimm’s.
    “I still can’t understand the rules, but it looks like you gave the other team a good ol’ thrashing.” Her arm circled Rupert’s waist, and she leaned against him. “You both look irresistible in your whites. This game makes baseball look so—”
    “American.” There was no jesting to Monty’s tone. The word had fallen sharp and humorless.
    The crease between her eyebrows showed Madison hadn’t missed the nuance. “You guys deserve a cold drink. They have some lemonade in the marquee. I’ll go and get some for you.”
    She slid away, while Rupert appreciated the swaggering of her hips.
    “Nice ass she has,” Monty commented while staring in the same direction as Rupert.
    Rupert’s grip on his cricket bat tightened. Anyone else but Monty and the bat would have flown straight into the moron’s head. “I’m lucky,” he managed to answer instead. Monty’s last day, Monty’s last day, he repeated silently, like a mantra.
    “Not really Hugo Vance’s idea of a suitable match, though.”
    “Since when are you in my father’s confidence?” Rupert immediately regretted the scorching tone to his question.
    “I’m not. My parents are. And your dad’s been rather open about what he thinks of your new girl.”
    Rupert’s father sure didn’t make it easy for him to build bridges and forgive. But no matter what he thought about his stepmother Camilla, Rupert had never shared his opinion with anyone. With a wave of his hand, he brushed away Monty’s concerns.
    “He’d better get used to it. Madison’s the one for me.”
    “Are you out of your fucking mind?” Monty burst out.
    “What do you mean?”
    Monty took two steps forward