Free Oxford Whispers by Marion Croslydon

ID. Lord Vance. Damn it.
    “Good evening, Father.” Tension threaded Rupert’s body.
    “I received a call from your dean this morning,” his father said. “I thought a quick conversation with you would resolve the matter.” Hugo Vance didn’t value smalltalk. Tonight’s call was no exception.
    “What did our dear Hector Crawford have to say about yours truly?” His father and Crawford, Christ Church Dean, had been friends since Eton.
    “He heard very disappointing reports about your commitment to the university’s academic life. I thought we agreed that you would straighten up your act this year.”
    “I’ve made it to the rowing team and I’m training hard. I can’t be all muscles and all brain at the same time.”
    “Don’t be smart with me, my boy. You will rectify the situation. You know my expectations.”
    A shuffling noise in the background carried over Rupert’s phone— Camilla, Hugo Vance’s latest conquest, demanding his attention. His father always had important places to go, important people to meet, and little time for his son.
    “I have to go. We’re expecting you and Harriet here in London next weekend. Do not forget.” He hung up.
    Rupert stared at the phone. Like always, the conversation with Hugo stirred feelings of hate and need.
    Gritting his teeth, Rupert threw the phone against the wall.
     
    AFTER THE SYMPOSIUM, panelists and audience members gathered in the Ashmolean Dining Room, converted into a cocktail area for the occasion. The rooftop restaurant overlooked the City of Spires. Madison scanned the room, while making a meal of the fatty sausage rolls.
    Pippa, snuggled against a radiator, and Ollie were deep in conversation. As always, the bubbly girl did all the talking, but this time “Fidgety Ollie” stared back at her without moving a single facial muscle. They seemed to be getting along. Good.
    Was Pippa actually flirting with Ollie? He didn’t seem her typ e. But anything that distracted her from her interest in Earl Boy was fine by Madison.
    Taking her eyes away from the couple, she observed Jackson in the opposite corner of the crowded room. An ass-kissing English girl from history was sucking up to the pro fessor. Jackson wore his usual polite demeanor but kept glancing at Madison.
    Unease made her shuffle on her feet. Pippa might be right about his romantic interest. Too many events troubled her life at the moment for her to want to dig into her feelings for her tutor. But she trusted him, of that she was certain. And he was super hot.
    The sickening feeling of sausage-roll overdose forced her to get away from the buffet table. With no one else to talk to, Madison opted for a secret exploration of the museum and sneaked out of the restaurant. It had been a long day, and she had a desperate need to get away.
    Walking though the deserted rooms, she looked first at the Greek Minoan potteries and antiquities on which the Ashmolean had built its reputation. Leanin g over the glassed-in displays, she admired the fine terracotta sculptures, the jewelry and the figurines. But antiquities had never been her cup of tea, so she decided to explore further.
    The arrow signaling a special exhibition led her through silent corr idors. From time to time, she stopped and checked that no over-zealous security guards were on her trail. So far, so good.
    When she stood at the exhibition entrance, her heart skipped a beat.
    She now remembered seeing posters around Oxford with the same pencil views of Venice’s Grand Canal. But her mind hadn’t registered the title then.
    It did now.
    The Pre-Raphaelites and Italy.
    While she had never heard of the Pre-Raphaelites and William Shakespeare Burton a month before, now they were all over the place.
    Madison was about to step across the red cord marking the entrance to the exhibition when she heard steps. An eerie shadow flickered on the wall of the corridor. She was not alone.

Chapter 12
    HER HEART POUNDING, Madison jumped over the rope