Heaven Made, page 16
It seemed as though hours passed and they still lay entwined on the bed. Ford was so exhausted and satiated, he could barely feel his limbs. All he knew was that the woman he loved was cradled in his arms and he never wanted her to leave. Ford came fully awake instantly. He was in love with Sabrina. It was a fact, not a theory or a thought or an idea. It was the God’s truth, he loved her. Sabrina moved in his arms, snuggling closer.
"What’s wrong?" she murmured. "You’re tense, all of a sudden." She moved her hand seductively down over his chest, dangerously close to his growing desire. "Do you want me to help you relax again?"
"Minx." Ford laughed and grabbed her fingers, entwining them in his so they could do no more damage. "What will it take to satisfy you?"
"Only you," Sabrina whispered, nibbling his ear lobe. "I just want to make you happy. Let me help you forget your troubles, whatever they might be."
"I wish you could help," Ford said, pulling Sabrina close and stroking the silky skin of her back. "Some things are beyond all of us, though."
"I thought that for a very long time," Sabrina said, sounding serious now. "When Edward first started drinking and gambling, I went to his brother for help. He refused to have anything to do with Edward unless I warmed his bed. Then when Edward died, I thought I had no choice but to succumb to him. And when I ran away, I was sure that I would have to go back. I couldn’t manage to take care of Alice the way things were going. But then a miracle happened. Cassie found me and you saved us. If not for the two of you, I would be married to Gerald today."
"I can’t bear the thought of you in his bed," Ford growled. "But then I think I don’t deserve you either."
"What’s wrong?" Sabrina sat up and looked into his eyes. "Why are you being so hard on yourself?"
"It’s nothing," he said. He couldn’t possibly tell her about his promise. Not yet anyway.
Someday he’d be forced to confess the truth to her, if he couldn’t figure a way out of it. That séance of O’Neill’s was looking more and more interesting. Not that Ford believed in such things, but if he did—it could be a way out. Ford pulled Sabrina back into his arms, kissing her passionately and rolling her onto her back.
"I will make this promise to you, Sabrina," he said, looking tenderly into her beautiful blue eyes. "You will never want for anything and you will never ever have to sacrifice yourself to any man for your security. I give you my word on that."
Sabrina smiled at him with such love in her eyes, Ford was afraid he might lose control of his emotions. To cover his reaction, he kissed her again. This time with his heart tightening in his throat. He would have confessed his love for her right then, but Sabrina had other plans. Her clever fingers brought him to immediate readiness and before he knew what was happening, they were making love again. This time it was fast and hard, but equally as satisfying. Afterward, they fell asleep, both too tired to even turn down the lamp. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, Ford woke long enough to extinguish the light and pull the covers snugly around them both. His last thought as he drifted off to sleep was a silent appeal to his mother to somehow give him a sign on Saturday.
****
When Ford awoke, Sabrina had already left. She was probably concerned about the staff discerning what they had been doing. A ridiculous effort, he knew. Servants had a way of knowing literally everything about their employers. Sooner than later, they would realize what he and his lady help were up to. He sighed in despair. What would he do when that happened? He wouldn’t be able to keep Sabrina in his house once their affair was public knowledge. He would have to find a place for her and Alice to stay. He hated the idea. Besides the fact that he wanted her around all the time, he also despised the thought of treating her like a common mistress. He was disgusted with himself.
"Ready to meet the day, Mr. Northcliffe?" Freddy asked, pushing open the bedroom door and setting a tray of steaming coffee on the table near the window. "It’s good to see you keeping normal hours, sir."
Ford didn’t answer. He was not in the mood for idle chitchat. He had life changing concerns on his mind and was suddenly in a very foul mood.
"All right then, I’ll ‘elp you dress and shave and you just let me know if you need anything else." Freddy at least knew when to hold his tongue and proceeded to do his duties without another word.
Ford entered the breakfast room with a scowl on his face, but his mood instantly lifted when he saw Sabrina sitting there, sipping tea. She was so radiant, and the shy smile she sent his way melted his heart. He would figure out a way to make this right, no matter the cost.
"Good morning, Mr. Northcliffe," she said, very properly not using his first name.
It crushed him, reminding him of their respective places. Blindly he filled a plate from the sideboard, and sat down opposite her. Sabrina giggled behind a piece of toast.
"And what is so funny this beautiful morning, Mrs. Tremaine?" Ford could play proper too.
Sabrina pointed to his plate. "Hungry this morning?"
Ford looked down and laughed. He had piled ungodly amounts of food on the china. Enough for three very hungry people, not just one.
"I built up quite an appetite last night," he said, watching with satisfaction as Sabrina turned a flattering shade of pink and squirmed a bit in her chair.
"What are your plans for today?" she asked, appearing to regain her cool demeanor.
"I thought I’d check in on Alice," he answered. "She’s made remarkable progress and I want to make sure it continues. I thought I might teach her a card game or two while I’m about it. If you don’t mind, that is?"
"As long as you don’t teach her to gamble," Sabrina said.
"She would probably clean me out anyway," Ford answered. He looked around to make sure they were completely alone. "Will you dine with me tonight?"
Sabrina got up and closed the door to the room before she answered. "Do you think that’s a good idea?"
Ford knew he was pushing things, but he wanted to spend time with this fascinating woman. "We could say we have to discuss that dinner party I was going to throw before Alice and I got sick. And don’t you have some more correspondence to go over with me?"
"Yes, of course." Sabrina didn’t sound entirely certain though.
"We will be discreet, my darling. At least until—" Ford couldn’t finish his sentence because at that moment, Alice opened the door and came bounding into the room.
He had been about to mention finding Sabrina a house, but he was equally grateful that he didn’t have to make that decision right now. Alice had saved him the trouble. Instead, he would spend the day with the girl and her mother and pretend they were a family. However, that night when Sabrina came to his room, there wasn’t time for talk of the future. They were far too hungry for each other to worry about or discuss such things. The rest of the week went along very much the same. Ford playing house with Sabrina and Alice and both of them joyfully pretending along with him. The days were filled with fun and games, and nights brimming with love and passion. His life was nearly perfect.
Only one thing was missing, and tonight Ford was ready to give the impossible a chance. He still couldn’t believe that he, a proud member of the Royal Academy and man of scientific study was attending an honest to goodness ghost party. Séance was the official word for it, but from his point of view it might as well have been Dr. Frankenstein’s monster’s christening. That’s about how realistic it seemed. He hadn’t told Sabrina where he was going, just that a friend had invited him to dinner. She’d been confused because it wasn’t one of the invitations in her files.
"No, it wouldn’t be," he quickly answered. "Lord Suffolk invited me in person. We meet at my club occasionally."
"I see," Sabrina said. Then she looked around cautiously before asking, "When will you return?"
"I honestly have no idea," Ford said. But he could see he’d hurt her feelings. "I’ll tell Freddy not to wait up for me."
"I might wait up for you," she said with a look that promised much more.
He leaned in and stole a quick kiss. Sabrina blushed and pulled away from him. "We’ll see how tired I am," she said being coy. "My employer works me very hard."
"I do and I enjoy every second of it," Ford said, with a wink. "Every single wonderful second."
"You should go." Sabrina was turning bright red now. "George brought the motorcar around half an hour ago."
"How do I look?" Ford asked pulling his cuffs down.
"Delicious," Sabrina answered with a sexy wink of her own.
"I’ll be home early," Ford promised, his voice husky with desire. "Minx."
Sabrina’s laughter followed him to the foyer, where Roland appeared out of nowhere to help him into his coat and hat.
"What did you say to make Mrs. Tremaine laugh like that?" Roland asked, handing Ford his leather gloves.
Taken off guard by the question, Ford said the first thing that popped into his head. "I told her I was going to a séance tonight."
"You? Sir?" Roland looked truly confounded by his answer. Then he started laughing too.
A short while later, George pulled the motorcar up to the front door of Lord Suffolk’s Trafalgar Square mansion. Ford told the chauffeur to go get warm in the kitchen and he’d call for him when he was ready to go.
The séance was to take place in the library after a light supper. The ladies and gentlemen gathered were mostly from the upper four hundred, but a few non-titled people, like Ford himself, were present as well. The ton preferred their own kind, but in this modern day and age, money was just as important as a title, even if a man had an occupation. Although Ford had never worked for his fortune, his father certainly had. Martin Northcliffe started life as a simple salesman, and through hard work, determination and a few lucky breaks become very rich through investments in the railroads, shipping and a banking enterprise, that to this day still brought in more money than Ford or his children would ever be able to spend. It was no wonder the cousin of a Duke was willing to marry him.
O’Neill fussed over his guests and entertained them as they ate delectable courses of chicken in white wine, quails in a light pastry case, oysters poached in tarragon cream champagne, devilled kidneys, and for dessert, a table filled with candied fruit, cakes and ices. After the plates had been cleared and sherry, port and brandy poured, Lord Suffolk led the party to the library where Madame Lou was already waiting for them.
"Oh, my. Oh, my." she cackled walking around the room. "So many of you!"
She seemed to be the old hag that everyone had expected. Although, since she was covered from the top of her head to the tips of her feet in silk scarves and tassels, it was impossible to be certain. Even her face was obscured by a veil of nearly, but not quite sheer fabric. Nothing, not even a tiny bit of her was exposed beneath the elaborate costume. And yet, Ford pondered, there was something disturbingly familiar about her.
"Hmmm, who shall we have at the table?" The old woman questioned the crowd of nearly twenty. "Only room enough for eight."
Everyone started talking at once, their disappointment was obvious. They all, like Ford, had come looking to contact a long lost or recently departed loved one. It now seemed, not everyone would be able to participate. Ford felt devastation at the realization, even though he’d never actually believed in this hocus pocus from the get go. After all, a small slight hope had brought him here tonight.
"You, and you dear. You—"
Madame Lou was walking around the room selecting the chosen few. Ford knew it was hopeless for him. She would have been told who the important people were ahead of time. He was, after all, only the son of a businessman. She paused in front of him and again he felt a quiver of familiarity. Impossible, of course, it was just part of the show. She must have lit some incense that evoked certain reactions. Ford would examine her accoutrements more closely while the others were involved in the entertainment.
"Yes, you sir. I’ll need you at the table." Madame Lou did not give Ford a chance to refuse her invitation. She had already moved on to the next guest.
O’Neill grabbed him by his sleeve, "Get over there, and have a seat, Northcliffe. I personally cannot wait to see what she wants with you."
Lord Suffolk was practically cackling with glee at having his stodgy, scientific friend sitting at a table of metaphysical fanatics. Ford himself was pondering the matter as well. Not just what the illustrious, and very clever it seemed, Madame Lou wanted with him, but why he had come in the first place. Sabrina. Her name echoed in his head. Ford went to the silk draped table and sat down in an empty chair. He was here for Sabrina’s sake. She was the one woman he had ever truly loved, besides his mother, of course. Just thinking about the last week they had spent together sent him into a fantasy of bliss and happiness.
"Man, woman, man, woman," Madame Lou was shaking a finger covered in rings at him. Somehow, she jingled as she walked around the table. It was the glittery things attached to the scarves making the noise.
He stood and changed seats to find himself between the Countess of Edmunton and Lady Haverstam The countess was quite mature and thin as a stick, while Lady Haverstam was a plump woman of maybe thirty years. They were both tense with excitement and couldn’t stop chattering to each other, trying to bring Ford into their conversation. But his mind was too preoccupied to follow them. How could a man as enamored as he, not be consumed by thoughts of his true love? He would have to concentrate on the proceedings, though, if he were to get what he came for.
When everyone was finally seated, Ford looked around and realized that he sat directly across from the mysterious Madame Lou. She narrowed her eyes at him, making it even more difficult to discern their color. Not that he could see anything anyway behind the gauze of her headdress. And along with the dim light of the flickering candles she had set about the room in a way that only Madame Lou understood, it was impossible to see what the woman looked like. Ford was actually beginning to wonder if she was even female.
"Quiet!" Madame Lou brought her jeweled hands down hard on the table, and the crystals and candles she had set out trembled. "The spirits are here, but they cannot be heard above the din."
Instantly the room was silent. Ford watched as Madame Lou appeared to go into a trance. She chanted quietly to herself in what sounded like a Punjabi language. Suddenly she slumped across the table and it seemed like everyone in the library was holding their breath, including Ford. Madame Lou slowly sat up straight and Ford was finally able to inhale. She was spectacular, really. If his head wasn’t so firmly set in the world of things one could prove, he might easily succumb to her performance. The chimes on her scarves where also a tantalizing part of her mesmerizing effect. They gave the impression of other worldly movement. And it certainly helped that a slight draft fluttered the curtains as if ghostly fingers were moving them.
"Hold hands," Madame Lou commanded in an ominous voice. "Lady Haverstam. Your sister wishes to tell you something."
"Letitia?" Lady Haverstam asked with a squeak.
Ford thought the woman would squeeze his hand off. But he was too interested in what the covered and bejeweled woman would say next to worry about a little thing like proper circulation.
"Yes, your sister is here, with a message." Madame Lou was quiet then, as if actually listening to the spirit’s request. "She says, ‘Margaret, you look—healthy. Tell my boys I love them. And tell Albert to look in the attic. The eastern corner. And of course I forgive you."
"Oh, Letitia," Lady Haverstam began sobbing.
Ford released the Countess’s hand to give the tearful woman his handkerchief. She took it gratefully, trying to get her emotions under control. Then he returned his attention to Madame Lou. This wasn’t proceeding as he’d expected. The psychic was disclosing what sounded like a description of where an object might be located. In his experience, specifics were not a part of the business of hocus pocus frauds. Usually, the gypsies or tarot card flipping charlatans would give vague, ubiquitous readings. Messages or predictions that could apply to nearly anyone at any time. This was different.
Ford leaned in closer, fascinated now to see what Madame Lou would say next. She surprised him by staring directly into his eyes and pointing her ringed finger at him.
"Ford Northcliffe, your mother is present."
Ford heard O’Neill snort with mirth, not even trying to hide his amusement. Suddenly he wondered exactly what the man had told the clairvoyant. If this was a setup, he was going to pummel his friend. He had his skeptic’s hat firmly back on.
After another dramatic pause, Madame Lou continued in that same eerie voice. "Your mother has two things to say. One, you came here tonight to ask a specific question. Her answer is this. ‘I made a mistake, son, find a way.’ And the second thing she has to say is, ‘I know you won’t believe any of this, so look behind the picture of the—"
Madame Lou stopped speaking and shook her head, sending her spangles tinkling. She looked around the room obviously uncomfortable.
"Bloody hell," the woman muttered in a voice that did not fit her appearance. "Bugger. Lord Ashton? Your older brother is being an ass." Madame Lou’s mysterious tone was back.
Lord Ashton laughed. "He generally was, Madam."
"I apologize to Mr. Northcliffe, I’ve lost contact with his mother. Maybe she’ll return later. Oh, all right, quit being such a pest. Lord Ashton, apparently your sibling has something to say."
Ford sat back disappointed. For a brief moment he thought the woman might actually have a message from his mother. He had hoped it might provide a chance to back out of his promise. But her words were cryptic, ubiquitous, they could mean anything he wanted them too. And then, when she mentioned a picture, Ford was sure she was going to present him with an opportunity to prove or disprove the veracity of this evening. But now he was back to scoffing at himself for even being here. If there had been a way for him to leave at that moment without disturbing the whole party, he certainly would.
