their lands. Ford never spent much time
in here. His passion had led him to his laboratory instead. Thankfully, his
father died when he was just a lad and he had never had a chance to be overly
disappointed with his son.
"I know Henry puts my correspondence somewhere around
here," Ford mumbled half to himself as he sat down at the desk. It was not
a comfortable feeling, being lost in one’s own study. "Ah ha!" he
said, triumphantly holding up a stack of neatly opened letters.
Sabrina took the missives from his hand and began to
efficiently sort through them. "Yes, these are what I was looking for,"
she said with a satisfied grin. "I’ll have these in order by tomorrow at
breakfast. That is, if you will be joining me, Mr. Northcliffe?"
Ford had already forgotten that they had established a
scheduled meeting each day. He must have looked unsure when Sabrina had
mentioned breakfast, and thus she felt compelled to confirm.
"Of course," he said with a smile. "Breakfast,
every day. Have you eaten supper yet, Mrs. Tremaine?"
"Well, no, but I was just on my way to request a tray
from Mrs. Dixon."
"Why don’t you join me instead," Ford asked,
standing aside and motioning with a sweep of his arm for Sabrina to walk ahead
of him out of the room.
"Oh," Sabrina said sounding startled. "I’m
not sure if that is at all suitable, Mr. Northcliffe. After all, I am in your
employ."
"And so is Henry," Ford said tilting his head in
contemplation. "And he joins me for dinner at least once a month. I think
we need to come to some sort of understanding about exactly what our
relationship is, Mrs. Tremaine. And I think dinner is the perfect venue to
discuss it. After you."
Sabrina walked out of the study with a frown on her face.
Ford was thoroughly enjoying making her feel uncomfortable, and he had no idea
why. He was watching the attractive sway of her skirts, when he saw something
out of the corner of his eye. Ford stopped in his tracks and turned to look
down the corridor.
There it was again! A young girl in a white gown, her dark
hair flowing behind her.
"Did you see that?" Ford asked Sabrina, making her
turn to look at him. "Wait, over here." He pointed down the hall to
where the apparition had been just a moment ago.
"What am I looking for?" Sabrina asked, completely
confused as to what Ford was talking about.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the end of the
corridor. The ghostly figure appeared for a split second before disappearing
again down the back stairs.
"There, did you see that?" He was breathless with
excitement and tugged on Sabrina’s hand to follow him.
But Mrs. Tremaine pulled him back in the other direction
with a force he wouldn’t have believed such a petite woman would possess.
"I didn’t see anything, Mr. Northcliffe." But her
face was contorted into a frown that belied her words. "I don’t have time
to chase after figments of your imagination."
"But, the little girl," Ford stammered. "You
didn’t see her? She looked just like my little sister, Piper."
Sabrina stopped pulling him, suddenly very interested,
unusually so.
"She died many years ago from influenza," Ford
clarified. "I think I may have just seen her ghost."
Sabrina laughed and all the tension that had kept her rigid
just a moment ago, seemed to completely leave her body. "A ghost? That’s
what you think you saw?"
Ford couldn’t decipher why she seemed so relieved. If she
had told him that she’d just seen her dead sister, he would have made
her lie down and put a cold compress on her head. But instead, Sabrina was
laughing at him.
"Really, Mrs. Tremaine," he said standing tall and
straightening his waistcoat. "I don’t think there is anything funny in
this situation. Nothing at all. I have just seen a ghost and you think it’s
some sort of a joke?"
"No, no," Sabrina said, getting control of her
laughter. "I just thought, well, there have been moments when I worried
that—" She didn’t finish what she was going to say and