Heaven Made (25 page)

Ford couldn’t be certain, but he thought he saw a small
figure look out at him from somewhere in the back of the shop. It was too dim
inside to see anything, though and he couldn’t be sure of what he’d seen. He
banged on the wood frame once again, hoping someone would answer. Instead, the
front door of the shop next door opened and a girl looked out, scanning up and
down the street.

"Mr. Northcliffe," she waved at him. "We’re
in here."

It was little Alice, and he hoped she meant her mother and
she were next door. He walked quickly to the entrance and followed the little
girl inside. Sure enough there sat Sabrina at one of many small tables. The
room was filled with candles, dozens of them, and dark, colorful, fringed
drapery covered not only the tables, but the walls and most of the windows too.

"Madame Lou," he said in a stiff voice. "We
meet again."

"Ah, Mr. Northcliffe, perfect timing. I just pulled the
Judgment card and I’m certain you will be able explain whatever legal documents
are indicated better than I." The woman stood, silk fluttering around her
and tiny bells jingling merrily. "I must go now. Mrs. Tremaine, it’s been
a pleasure meeting you. I believe I hear Miss Blakemore arriving. I’ll inform
her you are waiting in here for her. We share a back entrance," she
explained, heading towards the rear of the tearoom. "Alice, why don’t you
come with me? I’m sure Danny can keep you busy while your mother and Mr.
Northcliffe discuss—ahem—business."

Sabrina nodded at Alice, who gleefully skipped after Madame
Lou, oblivious to the tension that pulsed between Ford and her mother.

"Mr. Northcliffe," Sabrina said stiffly. "I
wish you wouldn’t have followed us."

"How could I not?" Ford asked, motioning Sabrina
to stay seated. "I have to apologize. What I did was inexcusable and I
couldn’t leave things as they were without explaining. And although I hate to
admit it, Madame Lou is quite right. I have some news for you from my solicitor.
Good news, wonderful news, really."

"I don’t want to hear your reasons. It’s quite obvious,
even to someone as naïve as I, what you wanted from me. That I expected more was
my own fault." Sabrina’s voice trembled precariously.

Ford wanted to kick himself for what he’d done to her. She
was so beautiful and so strong. Why hadn’t he seen what he needed to do from
the beginning? Now, convincing her that he loved her was going to be a supreme
feat. And even if he succeeded, would it be enough? Coward that he was, he
decided to tackle the easy part of his task first.

"My solicitor looked at your papers," he said,
pulling up a chair and sitting at a respectable distance, but near enough to
reach for her hand if she would allow it. "Apparently, you are a very
wealthy woman."

Sabrina frowned at Ford as if she didn’t understand his
words. Confusion creased her brow and she shook her head trying to comprehend
his words.

"Let me explain," he said, smiling gently, knowing
she had no idea what he meant. "Edward was the last man entailed on his
family’s properties. As the eldest son, he inherited everything by law, but
when he came of age and his father encouraged him to tie up the family fortune
for another two generations, Edward put it off. Have you ever heard of The Married
Woman’s Property Act of 1893? Apparently your husband decided that he wanted
you and Alice to have everything instead of Gerald or some other male relative
if Gerald died before Edward. Well, that Act made it possible for him to do so.
Your husband was very progressive, it would seem."

"I don’t understand," Sabrina said, growing quite
pale. "I thought Gerald was the older brother. He always played the part
and I had no reason to believe otherwise. Why didn’t Edward tell me?"

"He did," Ford said. He stood, poured Sabrina a
fresh cup of tea and gently placed it in her shaking hands. Kneeling in front
of her, he kept his hands wrapped around hers and the china cup. "There
was a letter from him explaining that if anything happened to him, you should
call the authorities. He believed that Gerald was trying to kill him and
falsify papers of entailment. Here, let me show you."

Ford regretfully moved away from Sabrina to pull the
documents out of his greatcoat pocket. He unfolded them and set them on the
table in front of her. Then he gathered up several of the candles from other
tables so they could see better. He pulled his chair closer to show her the
details.

"Gerald tried to kill Edward? But the doctor said my
husband committed suicide." Sabrina was visibly shaken by what Ford was
telling her.

"I don’t know the details of how Edward died, but it’s
clear that Gerald wanted him gone before there was any opportunity for the two
of you to have another child, and possibly a son. That would have ruined all of
his plans." Ford smoothed out the papers and pointed to the one on top. "This
is a copy of the new entailment document that Gerald had made up. You can see
it’s dated well after their father passed away. This one is Edward’s will,
leaving everything to you and Alice. And here," Ford shuffled the
documents again. "Here is the letter your husband wrote to you and was, I
believe, going to have delivered to his solicitor along with the will. But
Gerald must have figured out what his brother was up to and that’s when he
decided to take action."

"You really think Gerald killed Edward? What kind of a
man would murder his own brother?" Sabrina asked as the color left her
face.

Ford took the opportunity to move even closer and he gently
took her trembling hands in his. "Edward’s letter says that it was Gerald
who was ruined, not him. Edward had hired an investigator to look into his
finances because although your husband liked to drink and gamble, even he knew
he couldn’t have really touched the bulk of his fortune. So I wondered why was
his brother trying to convince him he was broke? It turns out that Gerald was
manipulating the books and making it look like Edward was gambling the family
business away, when in actuality, Gerald was siphoning funds to his own private
accounts. He’d been stealing from his own brother for years."

"Why didn’t Edward tell me any of this? He could have
told me and I would have helped him. He was my husband, after all."

Sabrina didn’t seem to notice that she was holding onto Ford
for support. He wished he could pull her fully into his arms and comfort her
the way he longed to, but this was good enough for now.

"I can’t tell you why he didn’t share this information
with you directly," Ford answered. "But he did write you this letter
explaining that if anything happened to him, it was because Gerald knew that
Edward was on to him. Your husband was afraid for his life and yours as well.
He knew that Gerald had been trying to forge his signature to the entailment
documents, but hadn’t been successful. And so it was obvious, even to Edward,
that Gerald would try to kill him and then marry you. He didn’t want that to
happen and he tried to warn you. But by the time he’d figured everything out
and had some proof, it was too late."

"Poor Edward," Sabrina said, before bursting into
tears.

Ford pulled her gently to him and allowed Sabrina to cry on
his shoulder. She felt so right in his arms, so perfect next to him. He stroked
her back soothingly and murmured words of understanding into her sweet smelling
neck. Now if he could only make Sabrina understand how he felt about her, and
that he had never meant to hurt her.

"Sabrina," he said, hoping his timing wasn’t as
terrible as it felt. "Let me help you take back what Gerald took from you.
I love you and I want you to be happy again."

Sabrina yanked herself back out of his embrace, pushing him away
as if he were diseased.

"How dare you say such a thing after what you did."
She wiped her eyes, refusing his handkerchief. "You used me knowing the
whole time that you were going to marry another woman. You let me think that
there was some chance for me to be in your life, and all the while you were
planning to announce your engagement to Miss Luella Ellison in a few short
months. You are despicable. Nearly as low in character as Gerald. Thank you,
Mr. Northcliffe, but I don’t need your kind of help."

"Sabrina, didn’t you hear me? I love you," Ford
said, desperate to get her to listen to him. "I only agreed to marry
Luella because my mother made me promise on her deathbed that I would. I had no
idea that I would fall in love with you back then. I’ve struggled so long with
this, but I’ve decided that I don’t care what I promised Mother, I’m going to
break it off with Luella. I can’t marry her, even if I do break my word. You
mean too much to me."

Sabrina stared at him coldly. It wasn’t the radiant look of
an adoring woman, elated that a man had just pledged his love and practically
asked her to marry him. Instead she appeared to be about to explode.

"You have a lot of nerve, Mr. Northcliffe," she
said in a calm voice. Too calm. "You offer me your love as if you are
doing me a great favor, making some sort of tremendous sacrifice for me. As if
I should be grateful to you for being in love with me completely against your
will. Would you also have me apologize, Mr. Northcliffe, for forcing you to
give up your high ideals and deathbed promises just to be with me?"

Things weren’t going the way Ford had imagined they would.
Sabrina was taking his declaration of love in a way he could never have imagined.
Somehow, he’d insulted her, and as soon as he figured it out, he would beg her
forgiveness. But he could clearly see this wasn’t the moment for more
discussion about it. He’d given her too much information at once and he had to
try to salvage what he could from this situation.

"I’m sorry you think that, but it isn’t true," he
said, shaking his head with sorrow. "I want to help you with this problem
with your brother-in-law. You have to go to the authorities right away. I’m
afraid he will try to harm you and Alice now that you know the truth. I don’t
want anything to happen to you, Sabrina, because I do care."

"Well, if all of what you told me about Edward and
Gerald is true, then I’m actually quite wealthy and I don’t need your help."
Sabrina stood ready to flee in the direction Alice had gone. "I don’t need
anyone now."

"Sabrina, please, you must listen to me." Ford
knew he was begging, but he would do anything to turn this evening around and
to make her understand the danger she and Alice were in. "Please come home
with me so I can keep you safe."

"Your house is no longer my residence," she said
coldly. "Good night, Mr. Northcliffe."

Sabrina turned and left the room, disappearing behind the
silk draperies. Ford would have followed her, but a boy came out and blocked
the exit.

"You look very familiar," Ford said, stroking his
chin in thought. "The shoeshine boy from the club. What are you doing
here?"

"Yes sir, I’ve got several jobs I work. Danny
Blakemore’s me name. Now you’re going to have to leave, sir. Through the front
door, if you please." Danny led the way opening the door wide for Ford.

"No, I must speak to Mrs. Tremaine again. She is upset
and I’m worried about her." Ford stood his ground, refusing to move.

"Beg your pardon, sir, but the lady didn’t seem to want
to speak to you no more." Danny moved uncomfortably from one foot to the
other. "And besides, Madame Lou said you’ll have plenty of time later for
fixing what you botched. So get on with you now, and we’ll see you in the
morning then."

"In the morning," Ford repeated wondering what
Danny meant as he walked out onto the sidewalk. He turned back about to ask
him, but Danny had locked the door and moved quickly out of sight. Tomorrow
seemed like a century away.

Ford looked around the street for George. He was parked down
the block having a smoke with a crony. Suddenly, Ford wanted to be alone with
his thoughts. The evening had been a fiasco of his own doing and he needed time
to sort it all out in his head.

"George," he called to the chauffeur. "I’m
going to walk home." The long hike across town would do him good although
he probably wouldn’t reach Park Lane until quite late.

George waved and Ford headed home at a slow pace, hands in
his pockets and head hanging low. There was something in the back of his mind
that was nagging at him.

The boy, Danny, was the same boy who’d shined his shoes at
his club the day he had found the flyer in his pocket about Miss Blakemore’s
agency. It seemed too coincidental that he was her brother. The only logical
explanation was that the boy put flyers in everyone’s pockets from time to time
as a promotional stunt. And the advertisement for Madame Lou must have gotten
into his coat the same way. The little scamp. Here Ford had almost been ready
to believe in divine intervention, and all along it was simply a lad making a
few shillings. Ford felt even more the fool for starting to believe in this
other worldly nonsense. But that was behind him now and he needed to get on
with his life. But imagining an existence without Sabrina felt like he’d been
punched by a prize fighter. His mind rebelled at the idea and he tried to drag
his thoughts back to considering how to bring her back to him and not dwell on
what he would do if she refused.

Sabrina was angry tonight and there wouldn’t be any talking
to her until she’d had a chance to sleep and consider all that he’d said to
her. Ford had laid his heart at her feet and now she could step on it and walk
away, leaving him desolate, or maybe she would want to find out more before she
completely cut him off. Danny was right. He should show up in the morning and
try again. This time he would bring flowers and poetry, instead of legal papers
and an ominous letter from her deceased husband. What a fool he’d been to
declare himself in such an awkward manner. Living without Sabrina couldn’t be
an option. He had to win her back and he would do anything she asked if she
would just let him prove how much he loved her. Deathbed promise be damned. He
would try to telephone Luella first thing tomorrow morning. The engagement was
off, and if he burned in hell for it, so be it. It would be worth the
consequences to live in heavenly bliss during his time on earth. That was, if
Sabrina would have him. She was angry right now, and should be. He certainly
couldn’t blame her for that. If he’d been honest with Sabrina from the start,
he could have let her decide if she wanted to go forward with their
relationship.