CHAPTER 16
The celebrations lasted far into the night. It was close to midnight, and the publican was looking longingly at the stairs, when Ryder and Mary excused themselves and went up to their room.
William John, Shields, and the men who had been their guards—not counting the four presently standing guard about the barn housing the steam carriage—were still toasting a success William John had insisted be regarded as an all-inclusive team effort. Felicia caught Rand’s eye, then looked toward the stairs.
He smiled, took her hand, rose, and drew her to her feet. To the others, he simply said, “Goodnight, all.”
Felicia paused to add, “Don’t forget we’ll be leaving at nine o’clock sharp.”
Several groans were the only replies, then the group went back to reliving the day’s events.
Smiling, Felicia linked her arm with Rand’s, and they made for the stairs.
They reached her room, and Rand followed her in. She shut the door and turned—to find herself drawn into his arms.
Leaning back against his hold, she looked into his face. The lamps had been turned down, but sufficient light streamed in from outside for her to see his expression. She trapped his eyes with hers, raised her hands and framed his face, and, with heartfelt sincerity, said, “Thank you. I haven’t said that yet today, and I don’t think William John’s acknowledgment went far enough. Without you, we wouldn’t be here—we would never have overcome the hurdles, much less reached such a glorious end.” She hesitated, then, her eyes on his, went on, “More, I wouldn’t have found myself—my true calling. And I wouldn’t now feel so much closer to William John, and so much more reconciled to my father’s ways.” Her voice lowering, she said, “I know I have you to thank for that. If you hadn’t come to the Hall and been willing to stay and work with us to see the invention through, we wouldn’t be where we are.”
Rand’s smile was the definition of mellow, full of confident satisfaction. The same emotion rang in his voice as, after turning his head and pressing a kiss to her right palm, he replied, “It truly was my pleasure—and all of what’s followed, all our combined success, is my reward. All the reward I look for.” He paused, then added, “This is the sweetest part of what I do and a large part of what attracts me to the challenge.”
She slid her hands back, locked them at his nape, and tipped her head, studying him. “Succeeding—pulling it off.”
No question, Rand noticed; she understood. “And speaking of such challenges—and pulling them off—as I mentioned, I have a proposition to place before you, one I wish to state at the outset is not in any way connected to my proposal of marriage.” He continued to hold her before him, continued to meet her eyes. “If you don’t think this proposition has merit—if it doesn’t appeal to you—please don’t feel obliged to agree. Your decision won’t affect our marriage in any way.”
She narrowed her eyes fractionally. “I think you had better make your proposal clear, my lord—and allow me to be the judge of how much impact it might have.”
His lips twisted wryly. “Very well—it’s simply this. Quite aside from marrying you, I want to bring you into the firm of Cavanaugh Investments as a full partner.”
Her brows rose. “A partner? Doing what?”
“Working alongside me in evaluating inventions in which the various syndicates I manage might invest. I have a feel for things from a financial perspective, but you have a talent for sensing which inventions can be made to work efficiently and which are more likely to hit insurmountable obstacles. You can winnow the chaff from my grain. As partners, working as a team, our chances of success—and of avoiding failure—will be greatly increased.”
Her eyes had widened. “You truly want me working beside you...openly?”
He nodded. “In the office, sitting alongside me while I meet with my investors.” He couldn’t help his smile. “You’ll feature as my number one advantage over all other investment-syndicate managers, at least those focusing on inventions. Especially now the Throgmorton steam carriage has achieved such preeminent success.”
Her gaze had grown unfocused as she envisaged the picture he was endeavoring to paint. “Together, we could steer funds toward those inventions most likely to result in new and better ways of doing things—producing things—society needs.” She refocused on his eyes and smiled her warm, engaging smile. “This proposition of yours, husband-to-be, appears to have been quite thoroughly thought through—a most well-grounded and well-rounded proposal.”
He smiled into her green eyes. “I thought so.” After a second, he arched a brow. “Does that mean you’ll accept?”
She tipped back her head and laughed. “Of course—how could I resist?”
He dipped his head to place a string of hot kisses down the sweet line of her throat. “I’m glad you can’t. We’ll make a remarkable team.”
She righted her head and, moving into him, her gaze locking on his, softly said, “I never thought to have anything to do with inventions—not ever. But by your side...that’s where life now calls me.”
He held her gaze. “It’s where you fit—by my side, working with me in every way.”
“Yes.” For a second, she held his gaze, letting him see her commitment to that—a commitment to match his own—then she stretched up on her toes and pressed her lips to his.
She kissed him, and he gathered her to him and kissed her back.
And as the moon and the stars shone upon them in silvery benediction, they gave themselves up to their private celebration. With minds and souls committed, wholeheartedly, they embraced all that linked them, surrendering with joy to the need, to the undeniable wanting. To the hunger and desire, to the passion that rose up and, in a fiery conflagration, erupted and drove them to the bed.
Onto sheets that tangled as they reached for each other and burned.
They came together in a rush of joy and incandescent pleasure, driven by a force too powerful to deny.
They seized and clutched and let the sensations grip and whip them on, up and on to the peak—then over to where soaring ecstasy seized them, broke and shattered them, and glory flooded in, until, at the last, oblivion ruled.
Later, much later, when he lifted from her, then settled beside her and drew the covers over their cooling limbs, when she turned to him, into his arms, he dropped a soft kiss to her temple and whispered, “Together in everything from now on.”
* * *
Three days later, Rand and Felicia stood on the porch of Throgmorton Hall and waved Ryder and Mary and the men from Raventhorne on their way.
As the small troop passed out of sight down the drive, Felicia sighed. She glanced at Rand, standing beside her. She’d promised Mary and Ryder that she would accompany Rand on a visit to Raventhorne Abbey in a few weeks. In truth, she was looking forward to learning more about him and his family—about his life.
Flora, who had come out with them to wave their guests farewell, turned and walked toward the open door. “Do come in for tea later, my dears.”
Rand glanced at Flora and smiled. “We will.” He turned back to Felicia, took her hand, and drew her down the steps.
As she acquiesced and allowed him to lead her onto the lawn, in reply to her inquiring look, still smiling, he said, “It’s time we discussed the details of our own crowning achievement.”
She laughed. “You mean our wedding?”
“Indeed. Did I mention that Mary is—or was—a Cynster? If she’s involved in any way—and trust me, she will be—then the words ‘crowning achievement’ will definitely apply.”
Felicia smiled. Having now spent many hours in Mary’s company, she could appreciate his point.
They’d strolled past the end of the terrace and onto the south lawn. From around the rear corner of the house came the sounds of William John’s and Clive Mayhew’s voices. The steam carriage was presently angled on the paving outside the workshop, with its various panels removed to display the engine in all its glory. Clive was busy creating a range of sketches, some of which would eventually hang in the Hall and also in Rand’s office in the City.
“That was an excellent idea of yours to put Clive on a retainer to do sketches of all the inventions we take under our wing.” Rand met her eyes; his were laughing. “Aside from keeping him solvent, the retainer will ensure we can get him away from Mary when the need arises.”
Felicia chuckled. “I’m not sure Clive realizes what’s in store for him and his sketches, now that he’s agreed to allow Mary to be his patroness.”
Grinning, Rand nodded. “With her connections and her determination, she’ll steer him to great heights. Given his talent, there’s little doubt of that.”
They strolled on in comfortable silence. After several minutes, Rand glanced at Felicia. “So to our big question. When shall it be?”
When she gave no answer, but, instead, met his gaze and arched her brows in invitation, he went on, “I would prefer it to be sooner rather than later, obviously. There are, however, formalities that are best observed—banns, for instance. I was thinking of late August.”
She considered, then nodded. “Late August will suit, my lord.”
Lips twitching, he inclined his head. “Having agreed on that—and on the need for banns—I assume you would prefer to be married here, from the Hall?”
She glanced at the house. “If you’re agreeable. I’ve known the people here and in the village all my life—I would like to have our wedding in their midst, at St. Mary’s.”
He raised her hand and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “That’s as it should be. So a wedding at St. Mary’s in Hampstead Norreys on”—he swiftly counted through the days—“I believe it would be August the twenty-sixth.”
Lowering his arm, settling her hand in his, he met her gaze. “On to the next question—where should we live?”
She frowned. “Does it have to be in London?”
“In the main, no—I imagine we’ll spend most of our days, those when we’re not traveling to view exhibitions and such, in the country.” He tipped his head and acknowledged, “We will need to live in London for short periods scattered through the year, but given how rarely Ryder and Mary use Raventhorne House—it’s a massive old mansion in Mount Street—and I’ve always had rooms there, I suspect Mary will tell us that we’ll be doing her and Ryder a favor by using that as our London base.”
“All right.” She met his eyes. “So where in the country should we live?”
“I thought,” Rand said, trying to read her expression, “that as Raventhorne Abbey isn’t far, we might look for a property between here and there.”
Her answering smile set his mind at rest. “That would, indeed, offer the best of all worlds.”
Although Flora had stated that she would remain at Throgmorton Hall and keep the household functioning, Rand knew Felicia would prefer to be within easy reach of her brother, and Rand himself thought that wise, not least given the likelihood of further joint inventions. He had a suspicion that, brilliant though William John undoubtedly was, he would always need his sister’s mind to bring his ideas to their ultimate fruition.
“That’s settled, then.” Rand gripped Felicia’s hand more firmly and looked ahead. “We’ll start hunting for a likely property tomorrow.”
She laughed, but didn’t argue.
He glanced at her as she strolled beside him. There was a deep contentment inside him now that hadn’t been there before; he’d never before felt on such an even keel, with his future, clear and unclouded, stretching ahead of him.
And he owed his newfound certainty, his inner peace, to her. He was beyond grateful he’d found her—the right wife, the perfect helpmate, the partner-in-life he hadn’t had the faintest inkling could exist, much less that such an intelligent, independent lady was the bride he’d instinctively if unknowingly been searching for—the one lady in the whole world he needed to complete his life.
His life as he wanted to live it.
She offered him all he needed—she anchored him and gave him the necessary insights to imbue his chosen life of investing with a wider, deeper purpose, transforming it into a more fulfilling, long-term endeavor.
She was his future in every way.
With her walking by his side, her hand in his, he was...quietly joyous.
Felicia glanced at Rand’s face, took in the softened lines and the aura of relaxed happiness that invested his expression, and felt the same emotion, powerful and strong, dwelling inside her. Filling her and pushing out all doubts. She looked ahead—not at the old oak but into the future. The future that lay all but tangibly before them. By his side, that future was one she would embrace with fervor—one she would seize and hold on to with all her heart.
But that future hadn’t just accidentally found her—it had come to her courtesy of the nobleman pacing by her side, the knight in shining armor who had swept into her life and slayed dragons left and right, then opened her eyes and shown her who she truly was.
He’d released her true self to grow, then he’d taken her hand and encouraged her to be all she could be.
She was still riding the crest of that wave of newfound growth, buoyed high and on, into their future, and she had no plans to ever slide her fingers from his.
This is life.
This is love.
And it was glorious and wonderful and exciting beyond description—she would cling to this, to him, forever, and never, ever, let go.