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.