CHAPTER 12
When Rand opened his eyes, the sun was well up, and soft sunshine streamed across the foot of the bed. During the night, he’d turned onto his stomach, and Felicia—his wife bar the ceremony—lay facing him, her head on the pillow beside his.
From beneath still-heavy lids, he drank in the sight of her and felt his heart swell. She was, quite simply, the woman for him.
As his mind drifted over the events of the night—the feelings, the sensations, the glory—awareness tugged at his mind.
Something had woken him. What?
Then he saw Felicia’s fine brows draw down, a slight frown forming, then her lashes rose.
She looked into his eyes. For several heartbeats, they stared at each other—the simple fact of them sharing a bed underscoring just how much between them had changed since the previous day.
Her gaze softened, and her lips curved. But then the frown, which had lightened, returned.
She blinked and, still frowning, lifted her head from the pillow. “What’s that noise?”
Rand turned to his side and came up on one elbow, looking down the bed toward the source of a distant rumbling. That was what had woken him—an unexpected cough, followed by that purring murmur.
It was coming from outside...
He looked at Felicia as she turned to look at him.
Dawning realization lit both their faces.
“It’s the engine,” she breathed.
They both looked toward the window. The noise had to be escaping through the open workshop doors.
Rand flicked a glance at the carriage clock on Felicia’s dressing table. “It’s barely six o’clock.” He looked back at the window. “William John must have thought of something.”
Her brother had spent the previous afternoon and evening working feverishly to repair the damage from and rectify the cause of the latest setback.
Felicia was listening intently to the steady purr; in the quiet of the morning, it was just loud enough to reach them. The thrum of sound remained steady, but the tone changed—increasing in pitch, then decreasing, then, after several minutes, increasing smoothly again.
On tenterhooks, she waited, but no sudden bang or even a hiccup disturbed the steady, rumbling purr.
Then, from below, they heard William John bellow to the morning, “It works!”
Felicia looked at Rand, wonder in her face. “He’s fixed it!”
Rand met her eyes, then together, they thrust back the covers and lunged for their clothes.
Minutes later, Rand stuffed his cravat into his coat pocket and opened the bedroom door for Felicia. She’d thrown on a day gown, but hadn’t bothered with petticoats; the material of her skirt clung to her hips and legs as she hurried along the gallery and down the stairs ahead of him.
It was so early, none of the staff were yet about. Other than the steady purring of the engine, no other sound disturbed the morning quiet.
They hit the tiles of the front hall, and Rand strode to the door to the stairs leading down. He flung open the door and led the way.
He and Felicia all but leapt down to the workshop floor, where William John, his expression ecstatic, was literally dancing around the engine, which continued to thrum smoothly, the gears rotating, the drive shafts smoothly engaging and thrusting.
William John saw them. “Watch this!” Gleefully, he paused by his temporary control board and shifted the handle that controlled a lever. The engine smoothly accelerated, gears and shafts moving faster and faster, then he held the handle steady, halfway to full speed, and the sound leveled and all movement continued at the increased pace. “Keep watching!” He lowered the handle, returning it to its original position, and the engine slowed, but didn’t stop.
“That’s it!” William John spread his arms, encompassing the entire machine. “The riddles are all solved, and it works exactly as Papa intended.”
Felicia seemed unable to drag her eyes from the purring engine. Rand could understand; after all their efforts, the disappointments and frustrations, to see it working, apparently so effortlessly, was breathtaking.
Beaming in delight, William John bounded to Felicia, caught her hands in his, and swung her into his mad dance. “Balance!” he declared. “It was all about balance—just like you said.”
“You fixed it!” Felicia’s eyes were bright, her expression radiant. “You did it!”
“We did it. I wouldn’t have thought about balancing things without you.” Grinning, William John dipped his head toward Rand and met his eyes. “And we’d never have had the funds to persevere if it wasn’t for Cavanaugh.”
Grinning back, Rand saluted the pair of them. Then his gaze fell to the engine. “What brought you down so early?”
“I woke to an epiphany.” William John whirled Felicia to a halt beside Rand, then stepped closer to the engine and pointed to several long tubes that now formed a web along each side. “I realized we needed to equalize all pressure directly, from the boiler on, and not just rely on our single pipe to deliver to both pistons. That also meant running equalizer tubes back from both drive shafts and both pistons to get the controls working correctly.”
Felicia had drawn closer to study the new tubes. She stepped back with an expression of relief. “Of course.”
William John grinned at her. “As I said, balance in all things.”
Rand smiled at William John’s exuberance, then he returned his gaze to the engine. After a moment, he sobered. “Have you completed the tests yet?”
William John regarded the engine with obvious fondness. “Not yet. I’ll do that today.”
Rand exchanged a sidelong glance with Felicia. “For the sake of our peace of mind, what’s say you run the tests twice?”
Transparently content, William John shrugged. “If you like.” His grin resurfaced. He drew out his watch and consulted the face, then, with evident satisfaction, tucked the watch back. “But it’s been chugging along sweetly for over half an hour, and it’s still perfectly in tune, perfectly aligned. Nothing’s going to blow now.”
“Nevertheless,” Felicia said. “Just to be sure, run the tests twice. How long will that take?”
“I need to let the boiler cool between tests, so I’ll get the first set run today, then we can perform the second round tomorrow, while we make the final preparations for seating the engine into the carriage.” Over Felicia’s head, William John met Rand’s eyes. “It’ll take us all of the next day—the day after tomorrow—to fix the engine into the carriage, then put the completed machine through its paces.”
Rand nodded. “We’re going to meet our deadline, but with no days to spare. We’ll need to leave on Thursday morning to get the carriage onto the exhibition floor by late Friday afternoon.”
“That’s when it has to be there?” Felicia asked.
Rand nodded again. “But as it appears Fate has finally decided to smile upon us, I’m increasingly certain we’ll make it.” He met William John’s, then Felicia’s eyes. “I believe we can look forward to seeing what Birmingham, Prince Albert, and the inventing world make of the Throgmorton Steam-Powered Horseless Carriage.”
* * *
The following days passed in a state of organized chaos.
Shields returned from Raventhorne Abbey while they were still at the breakfast table, with the entire household in alt over the news that the engine’s problems had been solved and it was finally working as it should. After confirming that the Marquess of Raventhorne would arrive with a goodly number of guards on Wednesday afternoon—Rand had asked Ryder to come on that day—Shields, along with Joe and Martin, followed William John down to the workshop for a demonstration of the magnificent machine.
Subsequently, throughout Monday, William John dutifully ran the first round of final tests. Felicia elected to serve as his assistant, pointing out that two pairs of eyes and ears were preferable to one, especially when they all had so much riding on the outcome.
Meanwhile, Rand took over the sitting room. He spread maps of the area on a low table, and, with Shields and Struthers, plotted the route they would take to the exhibition and planned where they would halt along the way, every decision made with an eye to being best able to protect the invention—and Felicia and William John, too. “In Birmingham, we’ll put up at the Old Crown. It’s on our road in, and it’s the most suitable place to accommodate us all.”
Rand scanned the list of roads and inns they would halt at—for lunch as well as for the night of Thursday. Then he held out the list to Shields. “Ride to Banbury and arrange for rooms there, then go on to the Old Crown and do the same. As Ryder will be with us, use his title—it never hurts.”
He exchanged a grin with Shields, who took the list and rose.
“I’ll take note of the roads as I go,” Shields said, “and look for places that might hide an ambush. If I leave now, I’ll be back by Wednesday morning, in time to help lift the engine into the carriage.”
“Yes—look for anywhere that might conceal an attack.” Rand got to his feet, along with Struthers. “Meanwhile”—he looked at Struthers—“let’s see if there’s anything we can do to help prepare the body of the carriage.”
He and Struthers spent the afternoon oiling and rechecking every moving part of the now-gleaming carriage.
Rand spent the evening with Felicia, Flora, and William John, all of them buoyed by the rising tide of excitement that had infected the whole household.
That excitement lent spice to his and Felicia’s later encounter, one that settled them both, in some indefinable way, drawing them even closer. As if with each passing day, they aligned just a little more perfectly with each other.
Tuesday saw the engine clear the final round of tests with flying colors, and the carriage readied in every way possible for the moment when the engine would be lifted and lowered into the cavity in front of the carriage’s forward driving board. That was one of William Throgmorton’s original modifications, placing the engine in front of the passengers, rather than behind.
That evening, Flora and the household staff organized a celebration. As Johnson, who proposed the toast, stated, the staff had lived with the invention through thick and thin, over all the months since their late master had commenced working on the project, and as they wouldn’t be at the exhibition to observe its moment of glory, it was only fitting that they drank to the success of the engine and its inventors here and now.
After a nudge from Felicia, William John rose to the occasion and thanked everyone for their forbearance, truthfully adding that success wouldn’t have been achieved without the help of everyone there, before concluding with the observation that those at the Hall today were the first to see history in the making, and that tomorrow, the future would be here.
By general consensus, the household retired for an early night. Rand followed Felicia to her room, and, after clinging to each other through the throes of a distinctly exploratory bout of lovemaking, they slept slumped in each other’s arms as the moon sailed across the sky.
Then the sun dawned, and Wednesday was upon them.
Shields returned to report that their route to Birmingham held few places where attackers might lie in wait and that the required rooms for their party, including the barn for the steam-powered carriage that Rand had insisted they needed for their overnight stay in Banbury, had been secured.
Immediately after breakfast, it was all hands on deck in the workshop. With the outer doors propped wide, William John and Rand released the heavy locking bolts that had anchored the iron wheels of the frame supporting the engine to the workshop floor, then all the men put their shoulders to the massive frame, heaved, and started it rolling, slowly and ponderously, out of the workshop in which it had sat for nearly two full years.
Foot by foot, the frame emerged through the doors and rolled onto the flagstones of the courtyard between the house and the kitchen garden, exposing the engine to the lazy, hazy summer sunshine.
There were murmurs of approval and wonder from the women of the household—from Flora, Mrs. Reilly, her four daughters, and Cook—all of whom had lined up along the front of the kitchen garden to watch.
Finally, the engine in its frame was halted in the middle of the courtyard, parallel to the house, and chocks were pushed beneath the frame’s wheels to stop it from shifting.
“Now”—William John straightened and dusted his hands—“we have to assemble the gantry and pulleys.”
He, Joe, and Martin returned to the workshop, reappearing moments later, lugging armfuls of heavy struts and braces, which they laid on the flagstones. While William John sorted the pieces, Joe and Martin fetched two large steel beams, then under William John’s direction, the men started constructing the gantry to either side in front of and across the frame containing the engine.
When Felicia asked how long assembling the structure would take and William John airily suggested two hours, the women lost interest and drifted back to their work.
All except Felicia; this was, in that moment, her most important task. Arms crossed, she watched critically as the gantry took shape. Once the major struts had been locked into position, she inquired of William John, then conscripted Rand, Struthers, and Shields to assist her in rolling the carriage part of the invention out of the stable and around to the courtyard.
The carriage stood waiting in the stable, with every surface polished and gleaming. The seat was of golden oak, and the side panels, metal guards, and forward and rear plates had been painted a deep green, the better to display the solid brass of the levers and fittings.
At Rand’s suggestion, Felicia climbed to the seat, sat, and used the wheel to steer the carriage, propelled by the three men, out of the stable yard, onto the drive, and around onto the wide path that ran along the rear of the house to end at the courtyard. She had to concentrate at first, but by the time they reached the courtyard and she applied the brake, halting the carriage with the nose of its empty forward compartment mere inches from the engine’s frame, she had a wide grin on her face, and excitement once again fizzed in her veins.
William John and Joe were up on ladders set on either side of the frame, fixing heavy-duty pulleys with their dangling chains to the gantry’s massive upper beams. Once that was done, the pair climbed down, and everyone stood back and considered their next move—raising the engine out of the frame, sliding the frame away, rolling the carriage into place under the suspended engine, then lowering the engine into position in the carriage’s body. “After that,” William John said, “I’ll slide beneath the carriage and secure the engine in place, then attach the shafts to the axles.”
Everyone glanced at each other, then Rand suggested they fortify themselves with luncheon before embarking on the most crucial stage of the assembly process, and all agreed. Johnson, Shields, and Struthers elected to have their meal brought out to them so they could remain with the engine—on guard against anyone who might think to slip out of the woods and tamper with it. After all the watches the men had stood protecting the invention over the past weeks, they were not of a mind to allow anyone to sabotage it at this late stage.
Relieved on that score, Felicia, Rand, and William John retreated into the house.
Rising excitement ensured they didn’t dally over the dining table. As soon as they’d sated their appetites, they returned to the courtyard to find the entire staff once again in attendance.
The moment was another milestone in the long journey to get their father’s last invention to the exhibition. Felicia stood back and watched as, with William John on one side of the frame and Rand on the other, all the male staff set their hands to the thick chains of the twin pulleys and hauled back, hand over hand, and the engine slowly rose from its support inside the frame.
William John and Rand steadied the massive beast, both calling to the men so they maintained an even lift on both pulleys, keeping the engine level with the ground.
There was a tense moment when one of the chains caught, then jerked free, but everyone clung to calm, and, once the engine stopped its sudden swaying, the men slowly raised it the last foot, until, finally, it hung suspended, clear of the frame.
The men on the chains were stationed at the rear of the frame—opposite the end where the carriage sat, with its empty compartment ready to be wheeled under the engine.
With the engine free of the frame, William John pulled on his side of the frame, and Rand set his hands to the other side and pushed, and the heavy iron frame, now without the weight of the engine, rolled slowly toward the kitchen garden, leaving the space beneath the engine clear.
The instant the frame was out of the way, William John hurried to the carriage, waving Felicia to climb to the seat. “We’ll push—you steer.”
She clambered up and, after glancing back and seeing Rand and William John poised at the rear of the carriage, she faced forward and released the brake.
Slowly, the carriage rolled forward.
“Keep it straight,” William John called.
Felicia gripped the wheel with both hands and held it rigidly straight. The engine neared, level with her head. “When should I stop?”
Forward movement ceased, and Rand and William John strode past Felicia, one on either side. Both halted beside the engine cavity and looked up at the engine, then down at the locking blocks onto which the engine had to be lowered.
A flurry of rushing steps had Felicia, Rand, and William John looking toward the rear of the carriage. All four Reilly daughters as well as Cook and Mrs. Reilly had come to brace their hands on the rear board of the carriage. Mrs. Reilly looked at William John. “We’ll push—you two let us know how far.”
Smiling, Felicia faced forward. She shared a look with Rand, who grinned. Then he looked across the engine compartment at William John and nodded. “Your call.”
With literally everyone bar Flora actively assisting, it took another ten minutes to get the engine compartment positioned to perfection beneath the engine, and then the men, who had been grunting and shifting as they continued to support the weight of the engine, lowered the beast slowly—and then even more slowly as William John and Rand shifted it fractionally so that its foot plates with their bolt holes were perfectly aligned with the supports inside the carriage—until finally, the engine touched the supports. William John and Rand did a last frantic check, reported that the positioning couldn’t be bettered, and at last, the engine was set fully down, the chains went lax, and the Throgmorton Steam-Powered Horseless Carriage was almost complete.
Relief rippled through everyone, then excitement soared, even more heightened—more expectant—than before.
Then Mrs. Reilly gathered the female staff, and in a group, they headed back around the house to resume their normal duties. After waving to Felicia, Flora followed.
Rand came to help Felicia to descend from the carriage’s seat. William John had already turned to instruct the men in moving the gantry away from the carriage. With grunts and much muttering, with all the men lending a hand, they half lifted, half pushed the massive gantry by degrees until it was clear of the carriage.
William John directed Shields, Struthers, and Johnson to, between them, roll the now-empty frame around the carriage and back into the workshop. While they took care of that, William John, assisted by the other men, fell to dismantling the gantry.
Taking the structure apart required much less time than it had taken to put it together. Leaving the men to carry the individual beams, struts, and bracing into the workshop, William John came to stand beside Felicia and Rand and study the engine sitting snugly in its compartment. “Now to hook everything together.”
He swung about and disappeared into the workshop, only to reappear seconds later pushing one of his racks of tools. He angled it beside the carriage, then extracted a board with wheels on one face, set the contraption on the flagstones, then he picked up a wrench, lay flat on the board, and grinned up at Felicia and Rand. “Wish us luck.” William John kissed the wrench, then with his feet propelled himself under the engine.
Fascinated, Rand and Felicia bent to look and saw William John screwing in the large bolts that would hold the engine in place.
After a moment, Felicia asked, “How long will it take to connect everything so we can test the carriage as a whole?”
William John paused in his tightening, then replied, “An hour at least. More likely two.”
She straightened and looked down at his feet. “In that case, I’ll leave you to it.”
“No sense in hanging about,” William John blithely confirmed. “If I want anything, I’ll call one of the men, but most of what needs to be done in hooking everything up is down to me.”
Rand grinned and, with Felicia, moved away from the carriage. “He sounds happy as a grig.”
“Indeed.” Felicia couldn’t stop smiling herself. She looked back at the carriage as they strolled toward the terrace. “I can barely believe we’re nearly there.”
She and Rand shared an expectant glance—then the sound of many horses clopping up the gravel drive reached their ears.
Rand’s face lit. “That, I believe, will be the party from Raventhorne.”
“Oh.” Felicia halted and looked down at her green cambric gown. She shook out the skirts and hoped they weren’t too crushed; at least she’d managed to avoid any grease. Raising her gaze, she met Rand’s eyes. “Is my hair still neat?”
He smiled reassuringly, drew her nearer, and linked his arm with hers. “Don’t worry. I seriously doubt Ryder will notice.”
“But he’s a marquess.”
“Yes, he is, but he’s not at all high in the instep, not unless someone annoys him—and trust me, you won’t.”
They diverted into the workshop and, dodging around the men stowing the pieces of the gantry away, made for the stairs to the front hall. As they climbed, she shot Rand a glance, but his expression stated he was looking forward to seeing his brother, so she bit back her uncertainties and hurried on.
They stepped into the hall just as Johnson swung the front door wide.
She approached the doorway, with Rand immediately behind her.
The sight that met her eyes had them widening.
A large body of horsemen was milling in the forecourt.
She knew Rand had asked his brother to send a troop of reinforcements to help guard the carriage, so the number of men didn’t come as a shock. Similarly, the tall, tawny-haired, exceedingly well-set-up gentleman standing beside a huge dappled gray was no great surprise; Rand had expected his brother to accompany his men.
What did make Felicia blink and slow, then halt—balk—on the threshold was the raven-haired beauty in an exquisitely cut riding dress that the marquess—it had to be he—was in the process of lifting down from the back of a superb black Arab.
Viewing the scene from behind her, affection and amused resignation in his tone, Rand murmured, “I might have guessed—Mary’s come as well.”
“The marchioness?” Felicia’s voice had risen to a squeak.
She felt Rand’s gaze touch her face, then his hand settled in the small of her back and gently propelled her forward. “Don’t worry. Mary will take great delight in befriending you. She’s very much one for family.”
Fractionally heartened, Felicia walked forward and composed herself, waiting with Rand at the top of the porch steps with her hands clasped before her and a welcoming smile on her face.
She hadn’t thought of the point until Rand had mentioned the likelihood of his half brother joining them, but there was no denying she would not be considered a good catch—not for Lord Randolph Cavanaugh. She had no real dowry and no particular prospects of wealth or high social connections to recommend her.
That said, she’d been prepared to accept Rand’s assurances that his half brother would welcome her with open arms, but she’d hoped to have time to find her way with the marquess before she had to face his wife.
Felicia felt passingly sure that Lady Mary would take a much dimmer view of a penniless inventor’s daughter as Rand’s choice of wife.
The marchioness was smiling down at her husband, sharing some joke as she leaned her hands on his broad shoulders and he lifted her effortlessly down to the gravel. For a second, as he steadied her, his hands locked about her tiny waist, and she gazed, still smiling laughingly, up into his face as he looked down at hers, the connection between the pair shone so brilliantly, Felicia felt a pang of yearning. And of hope. The marquess and marchioness had, apparently, been married for some years, yet they still looked at each other like that.
Would she and Rand share that sort of connection? Time, she supposed, would tell.
On releasing his wife, the marquess turned to address his men, instructing them to take their horses and follow Struthers, who had appeared to take the gray’s and the Arab’s reins.
Meanwhile, patently eager, the marchioness looked about. She hadn’t spotted Rand and Felicia before; as her gaze landed on them, waiting on the porch, her face lit with a smile of transparently genuine delight. Tossing the train of her habit over one arm, still beaming, she walked quickly toward them.
Deciding that Lady Mary’s delight was most likely occasioned by seeing Rand, girding her loins and stiffening her spine, Felicia, with Rand keeping pace by her side, descended the steps to meet her hopefully soon-to-be sister-in-law.
Lady Mary halted before them. Without even a glance at Rand, her ladyship’s vivid cornflower-blue eyes, large and quite striking, fixed on Felicia’s face. “Good afternoon, Miss Throgmorton. I’m Mary, Ryder’s wife.” If anything, the marchioness’s delighted smile only grew brighter. “I cannot tell you how positively thrilled I am to meet you.” Lady Mary held out her hand; she’d already removed her gloves.
All but blinded by the marchioness’s unrestrained friendliness, Felicia lightly grasped Lady Mary’s fingers—only to have Mary grip more tightly and draw her into a scented embrace. “I truly am so very glad,” Mary whispered in Felicia’s ear, then Mary released her and stepped back, her smile now holding a degree of reassurance.
Felicia couldn’t hold back; she smiled sincerely and more brightly in return, then she recalled herself and bobbed a curtsy. “Welcome to Throgmorton Hall, my lady.”
Mary’s eyes promptly narrowed, although they still gleamed with happiness. “No ceremony among family—and please, no ‘my ladys.’ Just Mary will do.” With a swift grin that banished her mock-sternness, she swung to Rand and stretched up to kiss his cheek. “Rand. So at last, you’ve found your lady.” Dropping back to her heels, Mary looked expectantly from one to the other. “Please tell me I can wish you happy.”
Rand looked at Felicia. Briefly, she met his gaze, then she looked at Mary and admitted, “We do plan to marry, but we haven’t told anyone yet.”
“Excellent!” Mary swooped on Felicia again, kissed her cheek, then linked her arm in Felicia’s and turned her toward the house. “That is such wonderful news!”
Bemused—amused, as she had a shrewd suspicion her would-be sister-in-law intended—Felicia allowed herself to be towed up the steps. Given Mary was shorter than she, once they reached the porch, it was easy enough to keep pace with her, yet as they passed into the front hall, and Felicia indicated the drawing room door, and they continued in that direction, it became clear that Mary favored a much more energetic stride than the languid glide normally favored by high-born ladies.
Flora was waiting in the drawing room to greet their guests. Mary bubbled with effervescent charm. After being introduced to Flora, she turned to Felicia. “I realize you would not have been expecting me. Please don’t go to the trouble of making up a separate room—I’m more than happy to share the room you’ve set aside for Ryder.” Her eyes twinkling, she confided, “I would, regardless.”
Being of an older generation, Flora was faintly shocked, but Felicia found herself smothering a laugh. Mary was nothing like the censorious, hoity lady she had envisioned.
Then Ryder and Rand walked in, and there were more introductions.
Felicia found her hand held in Ryder’s warm clasp as with a lazy smile and transparent sincerity, he welcomed her into the Cavanaugh family. Although his gaze appeared as lazy as his smile, she had a shrewd suspicion his hazel-green eyes saw everything there was to see—and then a bit more.
No matter that Ryder moved slowly and was elegantly dressed, there was no hiding the power in his body—and Felicia received the distinct impression the mind that controlled that power was equally formidable.
Mary and Ryder were a handsome and intrinsically powerful couple, yet they were also assured, confident, and clearly accepted the prospect of Felicia filling the place at Rand’s side. Both made no bones about their approval of her, and she realized the only criterion they had for Rand’s choice of wife was that Rand had freely chosen her.
Her inner uncertainty faded and, under the consistent, persistent warmth emanating from both Ryder and Mary, eventually dissipated entirely, and she relaxed.
While Mary chatted with Flora, the pair comparing their acquaintances to determine if they had any in common, with Ryder, amused, looking on, Rand seized the moment and bent his head to murmur in Felicia’s ear, “Mary is correctly termed a ‘force of nature.’ Unless she wants to do something you don’t want her to, it’s easiest to just let her run.”
Chuckling, Felicia met his eyes. “So it seems.”
Shortly afterward, they were waiting for the tea trolley to be ferried in and Mary was telling Rand, Felicia, and Flora of the latest exploits of her and Ryder’s three children, when a soft cough heralded a purring hum—one Rand and Felicia instantly recognized.
Her eyes widening, she met Rand’s gaze. “William John’s started the engine.”
They leapt to their feet—with Ryder and Mary a mere second behind. “Which way?” Mary asked.
“We can go via the terrace.” Rand turned in that direction, but even as he took the first step, the purring started to fade.
Fade, not stop.
Felicia seized his sleeve and tugged. “He’s driving the carriage around the house.”
The four of them rushed into the front hall, with Flora following more slowly. As, her hand in Rand’s, Felicia followed him out of the front door, she glanced back and realized the entire household was hot on their heels and making for the porch.
She, Rand, Mary, and Ryder halted at the top of the steps. The rest of the household crowded behind them. As they all looked toward the corner of the house, some of Ryder’s men, along with Struthers and Shields, came running along the edge of the drive, waving and cheering.
Then the carriage came into view, smoothly rolling on its steel-banded wheels around the corner of the house.
Perched behind the steering wheel, William John was smiling fit to burst. He steered the carriage into the forecourt, slowing as he approached the steps.
Then he turned off the engine, and the carriage halted, and he pulled on the brake.
He beamed up at his audience, then spread his arms wide. “I give you the Throgmorton Steam-Powered Horseless Carriage!”
Everyone—literally everyone—whooped and cheered.
* * *
Simple happiness and satisfaction permeated the house. All the staff went about with a smile on their faces, while Flora, Felicia, Rand, and William John couldn’t stop beaming with a combination of relief and exuberant triumph. Mary and Ryder were pleased for them and added to the joy with an indulgent air.
And as the hours passed and the carriage was further tested and trialed, then driven back into the workshop and locked away, with guards stationed both inside and outside both entrances, a sense of sharp-edged excitement intensified and gripped all those who would travel to the exhibition.
After dinner—served as usual at six o’clock, as they planned an early start the next morning and Mary and Ryder had denied any need to hold back to a more fashionable hour—the company gathered in the drawing room. Mary sat with Flora on the sofa, with Felicia in the armchair at one end. Mary asked Felicia what the exhibition would be like. Felicia had to confess she didn’t know, never having attended one before. Between them, they speculated, with Flora adding her assumptions to theirs, but as none of them had the slightest experience of such events, it was all truly guesswork.
Then they noticed that the three men—Rand, Ryder, and William John—were standing before the windows and plainly making plans.
Mary swiveled to view the three, then, in a commanding tone, called, “Gentlemen.” When all three swung to look at her, she waved them to the armchairs facing the sofa. “Obviously, it’s impossible to make any firm plans without Felicia’s and my input, so might I suggest you join us and we make a start?” Her cornflower-blue eyes wide, in all apparent innocence, she continued, “Don’t forget you’ll need to let Shields and the other men know of our decisions so they’ll be ready when required tomorrow and will also know which way to go.”
Felicia saw Rand glance at Ryder, but the marquess only smiled amiably and ambled to take the chair opposite his wife. “Indeed, my dear.”
Rand followed his brother’s lead, with William John, frowning faintly, trailing behind.
Once the men had claimed their seats, the five of them—with Flora adding a comment here and there—worked through the details of their trip. In the main, the discussion was led and directed by Mary—with the acquiescence of her husband and Rand. While they progressed through the stages of the journey, first to Banbury and thence to Birmingham—with William John contributing his estimations of the carriage’s likely speed, and all three men spending some time discussing the mounted guards and the possible reaction of the horses to the engine—Felicia took due note.
She couldn’t help but smile.
Rand had claimed the armchair alongside Felicia’s. After he reported on the accommodation he’d arranged for their party along the way—to general approval—under cover of Mary asking William John what their day at the exhibition might be like, Rand reached across and grasped Felicia’s hand where it rested on the chair’s arm. He’d noticed the small smile playing over her face. When she glanced his way, he arched his brows. “What is it?”
She studied him for a second, then looked at Mary. “I was thinking that, having seen Mary in action, I now understand how it’s done.”
He suspected he knew, yet still he asked, “How what’s done?”
Felicia’s smile deepened, and she met his eyes. “I believe your sister-in-law is teaching me how to manage a husband.”
Rand uttered a soft groan. “I should have kept you two far apart.”
“Nonsense—she’s an excellent teacher.”
Rand shook his head in mock-seriousness. “Mary is a highly corrupting influence, at least in the matter of managing.” He paused, then slanted Felicia a look from beneath his lashes. “Besides”—he lowered his voice—“when it comes to managing me, you need no instruction. As I recall, you ‘managed’ exceedingly well last night.”
She fought not to laugh, even as a delicate blush tinged her cheeks. “Hush.” She threw him a warning look, but he could tell she was quietly pleased.
Rand sat back. He continued to hold her hand, feeling her fingers relaxed and accepting under his. As he listened to his brother, his very dear sister-in-law, and his soon-to-be brother-in-law discussing their expectations of the exhibition, he felt peace with a definite undercurrent of contentment roll through him.
At that moment, his world was perfect—even more perfect than he’d imagined it might be. The Throgmorton steam engine had proved to be an even more impressive invention than anyone could have foreseen, and the lady sitting quietly beside him embodied the promise of a future beyond anything he had dreamed.
Fate—or whatever power it was that ruled the universe—had moved its various cogs and gears into alignment to raise the prospect of the ultimate result.
All they needed to do to claim the ultimate prize, with its many ribbons, was get the Throgmorton Steam-Powered Horseless Carriage to the exhibition on time.