Heaven Made (2 page)

Gerald sat back on the big four poster bed and began to
slowly pull the sash of his robe loose. Sabrina wanted to look away, but she
knew that she had to play this game out to the end. Her daughter’s well-being
depended on it. Smiling with what she hoped was shy submission, Sabrina reached
up to begin unbuttoning her gown while at the same time maneuvering herself so
that she stood directly in front of her weapon of choice, hiding it from her
foe. One button, two buttons, three—

"That’s better, my dear." Gerald practically
purred. His gaze was fixed on her bosom.

Sabrina eased one hand behind her back and grasped the wooden
handle of the metal pan warmed from the nearby fire. Her other hand continued
its seductive wandering path, stopping only to fondle herself. This had the
desired effect of causing her odious brother-in-law to close his eyes in
ecstasy for a brief second. Not long enough for her to attack this time, but if
she could just get a little closer and he let down his guard for just a moment
longer—

"See, I knew you were an eager little vixen just
pretending to fight me. I think you’re going to enjoy the games I have planned
for us."

It was working. Gerald thought she had planned this as some
sort of entertainment for his pleasure. Thank God she’d found out what sort of depraved
man he was before she had submitted to him. Sabrina shivered with revulsion
even as she smiled at him. With a deep breath to steady her nerves and give
herself the strength to continue with what she must do, for her daughter’s sake,
Sabrina pulled her nightgown open and bared herself to her brother-in-law. As
she expected he was so overcome by the sight of her exposed breasts that he
didn’t even let out a yelp as she reached behind her and swung the bed warmer
into the side of Gerald’s thick skull.

The look of surprise on his face chilled her. At first it
looked as if the heavy weapon had done less damage than the vase, but then his
eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed onto the bed. Sabrina
quickly buttoned her gown back up before reaching over to check and see if
Gerald was still alive. The blood on his neck frightened her, but his breathing
was still strong. It was going take a lot more than a tiny, half Scottish lass
to kill a bull of man like him.

Searching his clothing and the room as thoroughly as time
allowed, Sabrina was able to come up with twelve pounds, a gold pocket watch, a
diamond tiepin and a ruby ring. She wasn’t proud of herself for stealing the
items, but she didn’t exactly feel guilty either. After all, Gerald had never
helped Edward run his business. Sabrina wouldn’t be surprised if he had
actually contributed to its demise. It would be just like him to have taunted
Edward into failure. If she could, she would pay the money back, but protecting
her eight-year-old daughter was her priority now. If that meant she had to
steal from a man like her odious brother-in-law, then so be it.

She searched the wardrobe one last time hoping to find a
stash of money somewhere. Running her fingers along the smooth wood, Sabrina
thought she might find a secret hiding place. It would be just like Gerald to
be so untrustworthy of his staff. An indentation caught her fingertips and as
she pressed it Sabrina felt it give beneath the pressure. Suddenly a small
drawer whooshed out of the frame. This is it, she thought with excitement surging
through her blood as she searched the contents of the small space. But much to
her disappointment, there were only papers in the secret compartment and no funds.

Sabrina was about to close the hidden drawer when some words
on one of the documents caught her eye. She saw Edward’s name and her own along
with columns of numbers. Financial figures of some sort. She didn’t have time
to read them now, so Sabrina quickly scanned the papers and took only the
documents that had hers or her dead husband’s name on them, hoping Gerald would
not notice they were missing. An ominous shiver went up her spine. For some
reason, Sabrina knew these papers were extremely important.

A low moan emanated from the bed and Sabrina quickly checked
to make sure Gerald was not regaining consciousness. She gave him a hard shake,
but he just rolled over and began to snore. She left him sleeping soundly and
went to her own room to dress in warm clothes and pack her meager belongings.

After Edward had died nearly two years ago she’d sold her
finer clothes and all of her jewelry in order to pay the staff and keep food on
the table. Thankfully, Gerald had stepped in in time to keep the rest of the
household intact. Of course he said he intended to buy her new gowns and jewels
after they wed. But for now, all she had left were some plain mourning dresses
and other essentials, and the gold locket her very English mother had left to
her many years ago. Her room was still opulent, though. She had enjoyed
decorating it in a jumble of French themes, concentrating on Louis XIV
furnishings and shades of blue. Taking one final glance around the suite where
she had spent much of the last ten years, Sabrina turned her back on her old
life and went to find Alice in the nursery.

Her beautiful daughter was only eight and Sabrina had no
idea how she was going to explain to the child that they had to leave their big
warm home in Hanover Square and find refuge in the cold dark streets of London.
Would Alice understand the sacrifice they had to make? Sabrina dreaded the task
ahead of her.

Setting her own bag and small hatbox down in the hallway,
she straightened her spine, pasted a bright smile on her face and entered the
familiar rooms of the nursery. The schoolroom was empty and quiet and Sabrina
detected the gentle snore of the governess who had been with them for the past six
years. A good woman who didn’t deserve to lose her position under such
circumstances. There were so many regrets in this decision.

Alice’s door was ajar and much to Sabrina’s surprise, there
was a light coming from the child’s room.

"What are you doing awake, my love?" Sabrina
asked, quickly moving towards the door. "Are you feeling well?"

But what she saw when she entered the room left her more
shocked than worried. Alice sat primly on the edge of her bed, fully dressed.
Her midnight black hair, exactly the same shade as her mother’s was braided
neatly and a small satchel, stuffed full, sat at her feet.

"Are we ready to go, Mama?" Alice asked, looking
up at her mother with bright blue eyes that matched Sabrina’s own, it was like
looking at herself at that age. Alice was acting as if slipping out of their
home in the middle of the night was the most normal of things.

Sabrina stood there stunned for a moment before she was able
to respond. "Yes, but, how did you know we were going somewhere? I only
decided we should leave this last hour."

"Papa told me to pack all my things and wait for you,"
Alice said quite calmly. "He told me it was very important that we leave
here as soon as possible. We are in danger if we stay."

"But, Alice, my love," Sabrina answered, not sure
how to say the words. "Your father is gone to heaven. He can’t talk to us
anymore."

"He talks to me." Alice’s chin lifted in that
stubborn way she had. "Can we go now?"

Sabrina was speechless. Her darling little girl was talking
about conversing with a dead man, a ghost. It was simply impossible and in her
current state, it seemed like the very last thing she could handle. Sabrina
wanted to scream and cry at the same time. Alice was losing her mind. Not now,
Sabrina thought desperately. It was just all too much for one scared widow to
cope with. Calm down, she told herself sternly. This is just a grieving little
girl’s way of dealing with losing her father, Sabrina reasoned. She didn’t have
time to ponder the mysteries of a child’s imagination right now. She would talk
to Alice later, after they found shelter, about the difference between real and
make-believe. Picking up the little bag, she took her daughter’s small hand in
hers and pretended that everything was perfectly normal.

"Try to be as quiet as you can, sweetheart. We don’t
want to wake anyone."

"Mrs. Tremaine, where you be going at this time of
night?" The sleepy governess startled Sabrina into dropping Alice’s
things.

"We have to leave, Mrs. Clayborn, Papa told us to,"
Alice said. "I’ll miss you."

"I’ll miss you too, my little bird."

Mrs. Clayborn didn’t seem at all surprised that Edward
Tremaine had been speaking to Sabrina’s little girl. How odd.

"Do you have any money, Mrs. Tremaine?" Mrs.
Clayborn asked after giving her charge a kiss and a hug.

"We’ll get by," Sabrina answered, trying to sound
convincing.

"Oh, there now," Mrs. Clayborn clucked. "I’m
quite the skinflint and have managed to save enough to get me to my sister’s in
Surrey and then some. Let me help you out until you can get on your feet."

"No, I couldn’t," Sabrina protested. But the
governess had already pulled a purse out from a hidden spot in the bookcase.

"You’ll pay me back," Mrs. Clayborn said with
confidence. She handed Sabrina a handful of banknotes and coins along with a
piece of paper with her sister’s location on it. "Can’t have the two of
you sleeping in the streets and starving, can we?"

"Why aren’t you surprised that we’re leaving?"
Sabrina asked, reluctantly taking the funds.

"Oh, I’ve seen the way the new master looks at you,
Mrs. Tremaine. It was just a matter of time. Stay warm now, and I won’t say a
word. I sleep like the dead you know."

"Bye, Mrs. Clayborn," Alice said, waving to her governess.

"Goodbye, my little bird."

More grateful than she could possibly express, Sabrina
squeezed the other woman’s shoulder. Picking up their things, they slipped out
of the dark house and headed for the other side of the city and as far away
from Gerald Tremaine as they could get.

****

Ford Northcliffe sat across from his fellow scientific
colleague, O'Neill Mansfield, Eighth Earl of Suffolk. They both held a fine
brandy in one hand and an even finer cigar in the other. The Society of Dilettanti
served men of their class who were interested in more than just cards and
wagering. There were men from four separate science leagues who were members of
the Society and three other groups who were trying to obtain entry.

Ford had the privilege of having the prestigious M.D. in his
title. Doctor in the study of deadly illnesses and their causes. He had spent more
than a decade of his life searching for cures. It was not an easy mission to
have undertaken, but he had a deeper reason for his single-mindedness than
simply the betterment of humanity. His memories had haunted him day and night
for many long years, and now that his mother had recently passed away, the
elusive cure dogged him so relentlessly that he had ceased to sleep most
nights.

"You look like hell, Northcliffe," O’Neill
said, lifting a dark brow speculatively and sipping
his drink.

Ford set his brandy on a nearby table and reached under his
spectacles to rub the bridge of his nose. "I haven’t slept more than three
hours in two days," he answered with a frown. "I thought I’d found
something, but it didn’t add up."

"That influenza vaccine you’ve been working on?"
O’Neill asked with honest interest. "How long have you been working on
that?"

"It feels like I’ve been trying to find a cure ever
since Piper succumbed to it when I was still in boarding school. But I’ve only
had the knowledge and means to actually work on a formula since attending university."
Ford reached for his brandy again and swallowed the rest, grimacing as it
burned a trail to his empty stomach.

"Shoe shine, sirs?" The clean but scruffy boy
approached the men. He appeared to be no more than ten or eleven, and oddly
familiar.

The boy must be a regular, Ford reasoned. He was sure he’d
seen the lad before. "I suppose I could use a shine," he said,
sticking out his boots and allowing the lad to do his job.

The men resumed their conversation as if they were still
alone.

"So, Ford, there is a rumor that you’re engaged to be
married. Tell me it isn’t true," O’Neill said emphatically. "It seems
to me that a number of our prestigious members have succumbed to holy matrimony
recently."

The boy coughed as if trying to cover a laugh. Ford gave him
a speculative look before answering his colleague. "No, not officially.
But I did promise mother on her deathbed that I would marry the Ellison gal.
Luella decided to take a tour of the Continent first, and when she returns
we’ll make the announcement."

"I can’t believe it," O’Neill said with
exasperation. "What do you need with a wife?"

"Besides the fact that I promised mother as she was
dying?" Ford asked, with a wry grin. "My entire household has gone to
hell since the old girl passed on. The meals are awful, the staff is lazy, and
I haven’t had a decently laundered shirt in months. I need someone to take
control of my life again so I can spend my time in the laboratory. Besides, I’m
thirty-four, Suffolk, and not getting any younger."

The boy’s fit of coughing seemed to get worse and Ford began
to worry about his health. "I say there, young man, are you quite well?
That sounds like tuberculosis."

"No, sir. I just swallowed wrong. I’m fit as a fiddle."
To prove it the lad gave Ford’s boots a final flourish with his rag, stood and
bowed low.

Ford looked over the job with a discriminating eye. "Well
done. Here you go." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sixpence,
flipping it in the air. The boy caught it easily, bowed low again and thanked
Ford for his generosity, then left to find another gentleman to solicit.

"I must be going," Ford said signaling the footman
to retrieve his coat and hat. "I have several things to do in the lab
before the day is done."