Heaven Made (19 page)

"Mrs. Tremaine was asking for you earlier. Should I
send for her?"

"No," Ford shouted, then realized how absurd that
would seem. "No, I’d prefer that she doesn’t see me like this. Woman are
so strange when a man drinks too much."

"Indeed," Roland muttered as he pulled a
nightshirt over Ford’s head. "I will tell her that you were quite
exhausted from a very long day."

"Yes, yes, essausted." Ford yawned.

Freddy showed up a minute later holding a steaming mug.
Roland took the brew and handed it to Ford. "Drink that, sir. I believe
you’ll want to thank Mrs. Dixon tomorrow for the relief it will bring.

Ford obeyed and drank the toddy. He already felt better and
would have dropped the cup if Roland hadn’t been there to pull it from his limp
hand. The butler and Freddy then proceeded to tuck Ford into his bed, pulling
up the covers and turning down the lamp.

"Mush appreciation," Ford murmured, finally
blacking out.

****

Sunlight streamed into the room, waking Ford from a deeply
satisfying dream of making love to Sabrina. He sighed with pleasure, then grimaced
in disgust as he tasted the inside of his own mouth. Good God, what had he
eaten yesterday to create such a foul flavor? Then it all came flooding back to
him in a rush of images. The club, O’Neill, the bushes, Roland and Freddy, and
he needed to thank Mrs. Dixon. But not until he’d had a chance to brush his
teeth and gargle some cologne.

Sabrina. She’d asked for him last night and he’d been too
drunk to see her. She must think him a complete ass for ignoring her after the
incredible night they’d shared. Okay, first the gargle, and then send a message
to Sabrina, and then go thank the cook. Ford moved to get out of bed, but he
had to sit back down as a wave of nausea rode over him. Getting drunk had been
a very bad idea. One he didn’t think he’d make the mistake of repeating anytime
soon.

"You feeling any better, Mr. Northcliffe?" Freddy
stood in the doorway, bless his heart, carrying Ford’s grooming accoutrements.

"Better than I could be, I suppose."

"Well, that’s right good then." Freddy said, going
to work immediately. "I’m thinking you’ll be wanting to clean yourself up
a bit before facing the ladies. I’ve got a tub on its way. A good hot steam
ought to fix you up fine."

"Thank you, Freddy. And can you have one of the maids
send a note around to Mrs. Tremaine."

"Oh, she’s been asking about you all morning."
Freddy put some tooth powder on a brush and dampened it then handed it to Ford.
"We’ve been telling her you ‘ad a wee relapse last night and are still
feeling a bit poorly. She nearly came rushing up, but Mrs. Dixon told ‘er you
were still abed."

"It wasn’t necessary to lie to Mrs. Tremaine."
Ford paused for a moment from brushing his teeth. "Did she believe you?"

"I ain’t one to know folks thoughts," Freddy said
with a shrug. "But she didn’t look suspicious. ‘Ere now, let me give you a
shave."

"Let me write this note first." Ford moved to his
writing desk and pulled out a fresh piece of paper. Using his new fountain pen,
he scribbled a message out and quickly folded and sealed it. No sense in letting
the whole staff know about him and Sabrina sooner than was necessary. After
all, they would eventually find out.

He handed the note to Freddy, assured that it would reach
Sabrina safely. He just hoped she would understand and forgive him for being
absent the night before. The letter was an apology and a confession that he had
been out drinking the night before and that his staff was so loyal they’d lied
for him to make him look better in her eyes. It was quite complimentary,
really, when he gave it some thought.

The tub arrived and Freddy sent the message off with a maid.
Then he helped Ford into the steaming water. A half hour of soaking, a good
scrub and clean hair, and Ford felt like a new man. Dressed and revived with a
pot of coffee, he finally made his way downstairs. It was time for luncheon but
since he never ate at normal hours, there was, of course, no meal laid out in
the dining room. With a sigh, Ford headed to the kitchen. Mrs. Dixon was there
rolling out pie crust. There was a pot of soup on the stove and fresh baked
bread cooling on a rack.

"I’m famished," Ford said, sitting at the
worktable and looking around the big room. Sabrina and Alice were nowhere in
sight.

"Oh, dear, Mr. Northcliffe," Delores said,
obviously flustered to have him in her kitchen. "I wasn’t expecting you.
Freddy was supposed to come down and pick up your tray."

"I didn’t want to spend the day in my room."

"Of course, of course." Mrs. Dixon bustled about,
slicing the bread and getting a bowl for the soup. "Let me just fix you up
something. I’ll have Roland bring it to the dining room."

"That’s all right, Mrs. Dixon. I’ll just eat my lunch
here. No need to go to so much trouble." Ford decided he would just ask
the woman the question that had been on his mind all day. "Where is Mrs.
Tremaine? I wanted to talk to her about—" Oh bloody perfect. He should
have thought of something to say before he opened his mouth. "Ummm, about
the dinner party we had been planning before Alice and I got sick." There,
that sounded fairly reasonable.

"Oh she ain’t here, Mr. Northcliffe. She had some
errands to run and I think she mentioned something about visiting that Miss
Blakemore while she was about."

"I see," Ford said, dipping the fresh baked bread
into the steaming chicken soup. "This is delicious, Mrs. Dixon. Oh, and
thank you for the toddy last night."

Mrs. Dixon blushed as she went back to rolling out her pastry.
"My pleasure, Mr. Northcliffe. It’s me mum’s own recipe."

"Did Mrs. Tremaine happen to mention when she’d be
getting back?" he asked, hoping he sounded casual and uninterested.

"Not until after supper, I believe. I think Sabrina and
Cassie, I mean Mrs. Tremaine and Miss Blakemore, were going to take a bite at
the Savoy. I hear it’s awfully expensive, but Miss Blakemore was just dying to
get a look inside." Mrs. Dixon finished topping her apple pies with crisscross
crusts and was sliding them into the oven. "But with looks like theirs,
it’s a good place to be looking for a husband. Or so I hear."

"They’re, husband hunting?" Ford couldn’t believe
his ears. One night with him and Sabrina was ready to acquire another man?

"Well, they didn’t say that’s what they was up to
exactly. But when a pretty lady puts on her best hat and goes out in public
with another pretty lady, well, it just goes to follow."

"Goes to follow, what?" Ford was relaxing a
little. Mrs. Dixon was only presuming these things.

"That a woman with a child and a face as pretty as hers
ought to be looking for a man to take care of her." Dusting off her hand
on her apron, Mrs. Dixon turned to look directly at Ford. "A lady like
Mrs. Tremaine wasn’t meant to toil for a living. She ought to be married to a
man like yourself, not working for him."

Ford sighed and pushed his empty bowl away. His cook was absolutely
right. And here he was jealous that she was out of his house, enjoying a day
away with a friend. He had no right to wonder or worry about who she was with
or what she was doing. But he did worry and he cared, very much.

"You’re absolutely right, Mrs. Dixon."

The woman looked at him in shock.

"As soon as she gets back, will you have her come find
me? Maybe I can help her in her quest." He stood to go, and then added to
make sure Mrs. Dixon didn’t misunderstand him. "I know quite a few chaps
who just might be good enough for her."

"That wasn’t exactly what I meant, Mr. Northcliffe,"
Mrs. Dixon stammered.

"I know what you meant, Delores." Ford looked her
in the eye to make sure he was clear. "And I’ll do what I can. I’m even
going to a bloody séance next week, if that don’t beat all."

Chapter Thirteen

Madame Lou was far too close to her subjects. In fact,
this was becoming quite personal. Thank goodness the lad had overheard the
gentleman agreeing to go to Lord Suffolk’s séance the following Saturday. But
there was still the possibility that he wouldn’t show up. And even if he did
make it and she managed to bring the mother’s spirit out, there was still no
guarantee that he would believe any of it. Goodness, gracious, what was a
psychic to do! Non-believers were such a nuisance. No time to think about that
now, there was some sort of menace creeping into the cards. The Hermit appeared
next to the Devil, someone dangerous and hidden, wanting to cause trouble. It
was just at the edges of the woman’s life. Madame Lou could only hope she
discovered what it was before it was too late.

"Three pennies for a cup of tea? Outrageous!"
Cassie giggled and added more sugar to her cup. "Can you believe how
sumptuous this place is?"

"Edward used to bring me here on my birthday,"
Sabrina said, looking around the grand hotel and taking in the glitter of the
chandeliers and the lavish, gilded furnishings. "He loved to celebrate."

"Oh dear, your husband. I completely forgot about him."
Cassie reached up and adjusted her magnificent hat.

It was a turquoise velvet affair that matched Cassie’s eyes
perfectly, and it was as big as a platter. Wrapped in silver netting with a big
satin bow on one side and some dyed feathers for good measure.

Sabrina sighed with envy. Hers wasn’t quite so fine, but for
a post mourning bonnet, it would do. The dark lavender brought out the deep
blue of her own eyes and it was nearly as big as Cassie’s. But the bow was
quite small and the smattering of purple silk flowers was simple.

Pretty clothes. It was something Sabrina missed and was
ashamed for admitting. A woman could ignore the bad things in the world for a
bit if she had a pretty dress and spectacular hat. Someday again, maybe. If
only Ford really meant what he had said. Did he really want her to stay
forever? She pushed the duck ‘a la orange around on her plate, not eating a
bite of the meal that was worth a month’s pay.

"What’s wrong?"

Of course it was too much to hope that Cassie wouldn’t
notice her change in mood.

"It isn’t easy, going from a life where I didn’t even
know how much anything cost, to watching every penny." Sabrina couldn’t
meet Cassie’s eyes and instead concentrated on the waiters rushing around,
seeing to the needs of their very demanding clientele.

"Hmm, I think we need to get this out in the open."
Cassie looked around furtively, then leaned in close. "No more
pussy-footing around the issue, Sabrina. Did you make love with him yet?"

"Cassie!" Sabrina was shocked that her new friend
had even said such a thing.

"Oh, come on now. I was there, I saw with my own eyes
that you two are quite mad for each other. Don’t play innocent with me."

"Oh my!" Sabrina’s face heated uncomfortably. "I
was hoping you hadn’t seen anything. Or at least had forgotten."

"Forgotten? It was the high spot of my day."
Cassie looked offended but she wasn’t giving up either. "Don’t worry, I
haven’t told a soul. But Alice has been talking to her father again, and he’s
been hinting that Ford would be a good replacement. She’ll probably start
matchmaking when she’s fully recovered."

"Oh Cassie, please don’t encourage Alice and her
imaginings of ghosts."

The conversation was interrupted for a moment as the waiter
came by and replaced the duck with a rich soup.

"We’ve gotten off the subject," Cassie remarked. "Back
to you and Mr. Northcliffe. How far has it gone?"

Sabrina tasted the turtle soup. It was luxurious and
reminded her of days gone by. She put her spoon down and looked Cassie in the
eye.

"I think I’m in love with him."

"Splendid." Cassie clapped her hands. "Oh,
this is lovely."

"No, it’s horrible." Sabrina was close to tears
now. "I’m his employee. What could be worse than that? I feel so ashamed
of myself. How could I let such a thing happen? I don’t know what to do. Should
I leave? Or stay and let things go on with him? Oh, Cassie, what should I do?"

"Don’t do anything yet." Cassie took Sabrina’s
hand across the table and squeezed it reassuringly. "He’s a good man and
he’ll do the right thing. I’m nearly one hundred percent certain of it."

"How could you know that?" Sabrina asked, pulling
out a handkerchief and blotting her eyes.

"Well, Madame Lou was talking to Mrs. Northcliffe, Mr.
Northcliffe’s mother, and she said that Mrs. Northcliffe quite approves of you.
But that silly little thing that she did before she died is still in the way.
By next week Madame Lou feels positive that she’ll be able turn that around."

"What are you talking about? Ghosts?" Sabrina
pulled her hand back. "Cassie, I don’t believe in that nonsense. And I
don’t understand why you put so much faith in this Madame Lou? She is all that
Alice talks about and I really must protest."

"There’s no harm in it," Cassie insisted. "Madame
Lou is only trying to help. You see, the spirits sometimes need to talk to the
living. They made mistakes in life that they wish to correct. And people like
Madame Lou and your Alice, encourage them to move on to heaven in true peace."

"It sounds so…helpful when it you put it like that."
Sabrina frowned, thinking about what Cassie had just said. It wasn’t as scary
as she’d first believed. If what Miss Blakemore said was true, then maybe Alice
really was talking to Edward.

Sabrina’s thoughts wandered as she began to imagine asking
Edward how she could protect Alice from Gerald. Would he be able to help her
secure a decent future for their daughter? Was this the answer to all of her
prayers?

"Maybe Alice and I should meet this Madame Lou?"