The Designs of Lord Randolph Cavanaugh

by Stephanie Laurens

  The porters nodded and took charge, carefully pushing the steam carriage on through the foyer and into the exhibition hall.

  Although the hall’s double doors stood open, from where the Throgmorton party had been halted behind a cordon, they couldn’t see into the space.

  William John stared after the disappearing steam carriage, a pained expression on his face.

  Felicia put a hand on his sleeve. “All the porters are wearing gloves—did you notice?”

  “They are?” William John blinked, looked around to confirm that, then reluctantly conceded, “I suppose they have to take the best of care.”

  “Indeed.” Felicia linked her arm with his and drew him inexorably away.

  They returned to the horses and traveling coach. Rand and William John joined Felicia and Mary inside the coach, and their now-much-less-impressive party headed back into the town, retracing their route to the Old Crown Inn.

  The inn was crowded; it was fortunate that Rand had sent Shields days before to reserve rooms for them. As Shields had used Ryder’s title, the rooms they were shown to were among the best the inn had to offer, well-appointed and comfortable.

  Their party gathered for dinner in a private dining room. Ryder had ensured that all the men had been summoned to join them.

  At Rand’s suggestion, they applied themselves to the tasty meal served by their hosts; only when the plates had been emptied and jugs of ale had done the rounds of the long table did he and Ryder turn to the task of organizing the watches on the steam carriage during the exhibition and on leaving the hall at the end of the event.

  Seated beside Mary, the pair of them flanked by Rand and Ryder, Felicia listened as Rand, Ryder, and William John discussed the potential weaknesses in the organizers’ arrangements.

  “The official guards will be there until the end of the day, but there are only so many of them, and exhibitions such as this are always crowded,” Rand said. “There’ll be streams of people—not just inventors and investors, but all sorts of interested members of the public, even children—passing up and down the room and milling around the inventions.”

  William John, seated opposite Felicia, frowned. “Not in the morning, though.” He screwed up his face in concentration. “I can’t remember.” He looked at Rand. “Is that right?”

  Rand nodded. His expression serious, he glanced around the table at all the men. “Although it’s the organizers’ responsibility to keep the hall and all the inventions in it secure until the end of the exhibition, once the doors open to the public at one o’clock, I strongly suspect the organizers’ guards will be overwhelmed. However, I believe we can place our faith in the organizers and their guards until one o’clock. In addition, the exhibitors—in our case, William John and me—must report to the hall at ten o’clock. Between ten and twelve, the organizers and their team of assessors examine the inventions, and William John and I need to be present throughout that time.”

  “But you don’t need extra guards through those hours.” Ryder looked at Rand for confirmation.

  “No, we don’t. We’ll both be there, beside the steam carriage, waiting to show the assessors around it and demonstrate how it operates, and while some of the other inventors might leave their exhibits and mill around, there won’t be so many that, between us, we won’t be able to keep an eye on them all.” Rand glanced at William John. “Between twelve and one o’clock, William John and I will remain with the steam carriage, just to be sure.”

  Sober and serious, William John nodded.

  Rand turned to survey Ryder’s men. “After that, however, immediately the doors open to the public at one o’clock, we will need you—about five or even six at a time—to stand guard around the steam carriage.”

  Shields glanced at the other guards. “Right, then.” He looked at Rand. “We’ve enough of us to stand six at a time. We’ll rotate so that we each get a chance to take a gander at the other machines on show, if that’ll suit?”

  Rand inclined his head. “Indeed.”

  “So,” Shields went on, “we’re to keep all the punters away from the steam engine?”

  “They can look,” William John said, “but you’ll need to keep them sufficiently far back that they can’t touch.”

  “Either William John or I will be there throughout the exhibition,” Rand said, “standing before the steam carriage to answer any questions.” He paused, then went on, “Even though, prior to the public viewing, the steam carriage will have been examined by the assessors and demonstrated to them, establishing that it works, the most critical point at which our invention must shine is when we have our chance to present it to Prince Albert—so tampering or sabotage remains a real threat until the steam carriage is successfully presented to the Prince.” Rand glanced around at the men. “Albert is scheduled to arrive at half past two. After the usual welcome speeches, he’ll start examining the exhibits, commencing from the first exhibit on the left and progressing down that side of the hall to the end, before returning along the other side.”

  Rand looked at William John. “We’re number twenty-four, and I believe there are fifty exhibits in all.” Looking at the men, he said, “I managed to get a glimpse of the plan of the exhibits. The hall is a long rectangle, and the exhibits are arranged against the two long sides, leaving a wide central aisle. The steam engine’s spot is almost at the end of the hall on the left side.”

  The men all frowned, envisaging the hall in their minds’ eyes.

  Ryder asked, “Are there any side halls or annexes opening from the main hall?”

  “None that were marked on the organizers’ plan.” Rand frowned faintly, then offered, “I’ve been in the hall before, and as far as I recall, it’s just one large rectangular hall. There may be doors here and there, but no other spaces open from it.”

  Ryder sat back. “If the exhibits are arranged more or less against the walls, that makes protecting them from any interference from the passing crowd easier.” Touching a finger to the condensation on his ale glass, he drew a line on the wooden tabletop. “Here’s the wall, and here”—he drew a rectangle beside it—“is the steam carriage. If we place a cordon of men in a shallow arc extending to either side, virtually to each of the neighboring exhibits, then we’ll block anyone approaching the steam carriage from either side. No one will be able to slip behind it, even if the two of you are distracted by others asking questions.”

  Rand, William John, Ryder, and the other men fell to discussing the precise placement of the guards. Watching them, Felicia felt a seductive sense of relief—surely, with so many focused on protecting the steam carriage, nothing would go wrong.

  The knowledge that, in the matter of failing, they were approaching the last hurdle hovered at the back of her mind.

  Beside Felicia, Mary murmured, “Ryder and I are acquainted with Albert. It would likely be some sort of royal solecism were we not to present ourselves to him at some point in the proceedings.” She glanced at Felicia and met her eyes. “The question is, what would be the most useful point at which to step forward and make our presence known?”

  Much struck, Felicia arched her brows. “What would you suggest?”

  At that moment, the placements of the guards was resolved to all the men’s satisfaction. Mary leaned forward and asked Rand, “What happens after the Prince arrives? You said there would be the usual speeches, then he’ll speak with the exhibitors—there must be some sort of protocol in place.”

  Rand shrugged. “From what I’ve seen in the past, Albert speaks with each inventor, and they explain their invention to him. He’ll move down the line, but he will linger if some invention catches his eye. Then he’ll spend longer, asking questions and examining the machine.”

  “The public will be milling about—I imagine the Prince’s equerries will be there, keeping the hoi polloi at a distance.” Mary’s eyes had narrowed, as if examining t
he scene in her mind. “We’re acquainted with Albert, and it would be odd if we were there but didn’t greet him—his people will recognize us and not seek to prevent us from doing so. From what you say, it seems as if the best time to engage him—to encourage him to focus on the Throgmorton exhibit—will be as he finishes with the invention before. Whatever the number twenty-three exhibit is.”

  Ryder had shifted to study his wife. He caught her eye and cocked a brow at her. “You think to charm Albert into paying special attention to the Throgmorton exhibit.”

  Mary nodded decisively. “Exactly.”

  Rand straightened in his seat. “Actually, that might work out especially well.” Across the table, he met William John’s eyes. “I was wondering how to get the pressure up in time to demonstrate the full capacity of the engine.” To the others, he said, “Once the engine is turned on—the coal ignited—it takes a few minutes for the steam pressure to build. But the organizers’ rules state that we’re not allowed to turn on the engine until the Prince is finished with the previous invention and turns our way.” Rand looked at Mary, including Ryder with his gaze. “If you two step in the instant Albert’s finished with number twenty-three, and chat, charm, and delay him, then William John can push the start button the instant Albert turns our way—”

  “And by the time we release him, and he reaches you and William John, the steam carriage will be primed and ready for its demonstration.” Mary grinned. “Consider it done.”

  Felicia grinned, too; it was clear that her soon-to-be sister-in-law was delighted to have carved out an active role for herself and her husband in their plans to present the Throgmorton steam carriage to best advantage.

  “That will be perfect.” Enthused, William John met Rand’s eyes, eagerness in every line of his face. “If we have the pressure properly up, then if the Prince shows interest, we’ll be able to take him for a short drive.”

  Rand, Felicia, Mary, and Ryder—the four of the company who had already experienced the thrill of driving the steam carriage or even being driven in it—fell silent as they considered how someone like Albert, with a known penchant for new inventions, would respond to such an experience, however curtailed...

  “That,” Rand said, his tone suggesting he was contemplating an unexpected windfall, “would set the seal on the steam carriage’s success.”

  William John looked from one to the other. “Then let’s do it—there’s no reason we can’t ask if he would like to go for a drive.”

  Everyone agreed.

  “How long does the public showing go for?” Mary asked.

  “Until six o’clock.” Rand caught Ryder’s eye, then glanced at the men. “At the end, it’ll be left to us to remove the steam carriage and get it safely away.”

  That necessitated another round of discussion and planning.

  Eventually, with the manner of their departure, steam carriage and all, from the Town Hall decided, Shields said, “I’ve spoken with the innkeeper, just to confirm—when I was here earlier, he said we could use his coach house to store the steam carriage overnight as the doors have a lock. Seems there’s no problem with that—I took a look, and the building will do well enough.”

  “The steam carriage will fit?” William John asked.

  Shields nodded. “Plenty of room.”

  Regardless of any lock, Ryder and Rand set a roster for guarding the steam carriage over the following night.

  With all decided and arranged as far as it could be, with an atmosphere of quiet confidence infusing the company, the men pushed back from the table and, with nods to their various employers, went off to find their beds. William John bade everyone a vague farewell and followed the men from the private room.

  Ryder, Mary, Rand, and Felicia rose and followed the others more slowly.

  With Felicia’s arm tucked in his, as he and she followed Ryder and Mary up the stairs, Rand murmured, “I plan to survey the other inventions presented to determine if any are worthwhile investing in. Exhibitions such as this are often a good source of future projects”—he caught her eye—“and I would like you to assess them with me.” He smiled. “I would appreciate picking your brains regarding any problems you see in the designs, and also what strengths you perceive in the concepts.”

  Felicia felt contentment well and wash through her. She inclined her head. “I’ll be happy to oblige.”

  “Depending on the interest the steam carriage garners,” Rand went on, “I might be able to make some time before the Prince approaches, but once Albert’s finished with us and the greater part of the crowd’s attention moves on with him, I should definitely have time to wander the other exhibits and investigate their potential.”

  She nodded as they stepped into the upper corridor and turned toward her room. That he valued her mind and her insights into inventions beyond the steam carriage could not have been clearer. “While you’re busy,” she said, “I can make a round of the exhibits myself and see what I can discern.”

  “Do.” He squeezed her hand, then, as they paused outside her door, he looked to right and left along the currently deserted corridor. Then he met her eyes. “Should I go to my room and return later? Or...?”

  Her smile grew radiant. “No.” She shifted her fingers, gripped and tugged his hand. While it was reassuring that he valued her mind, to be wanted for her body was another delight. “We’re affianced. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and that’s all there is to it.”

  His answering smile warmed her heart.

  He reached around her and opened the door. She walked in and drew him with her.

  * * *

  Their lovemaking that night was a scintillating mixture of the tender and the torrid.

  Tender in the way they started, with long, gentle kisses that stretched their senses and heralded a slow slide into rising passion; torrid in the final moments, when heat and hunger geysered and drove them, before passion exploded, their senses dissolved, and ecstasy claimed them.

  Finally, with oblivion beckoning, they slumped to the sheets, their skins dewed, hers rosy with sated desire.

  Their breathing ragged, they lay on their backs, side by side, and waited for the tumult of their hearts to subside.

  Despite the tug of satiation, they were both, it seemed, as yet too keyed up to slide willingly into slumber.

  After several minutes, Rand drew up the sheet. They settled beneath it, still lying shoulder to shoulder.

  Felicia tilted her head, resting it on his shoulder. “We’re nearly there, aren’t we? It’s all falling into place.”

  Beneath the sheet, his fingers found hers; gently, he stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. “Yes.” He paused, then added, “In more ways than one.” He felt her gaze brush his face and went on, “The moment tomorrow when the Prince views the steam carriage is shaping to be one of those fraught instances—those particular moments in time on which so very much depends.”

  Her fingers curled with his, and she snuggled closer. “The invention itself and all that flows from that. Your reputation with your investors, the outcome of your investment and theirs, William John’s reputation, his future prospects, the prospects for me and our family, the future of the Hall and our household.” She gripped his hand. “Far-reaching, indeed.”

  After a moment, he said, “I know the steam engine works—that it is a vast improvement over what existed previously. I know we’ve taken every possible step to keep it safe, so that it can be presented as a working invention to the Prince tomorrow. Yet...”

  Her head moved on his shoulder as, slowly, she nodded, then—softly, wryly—she huffed out a laugh. “It appears that’s another trait we share.” She looked up as he looked down. She searched his eyes, then her lips gently curved. “Neither of us, it seems, is at all comfortable taking things for granted and trusting to Fate.”

  He grunted, then let his head fall back and l
ooked up at the ceiling. “Trusting to Fate is not my strength, especially not when so much is at stake.”

  “Realistically,” she murmured, “this could still end in tears.”

  “Sadly, with inventions, there is always a risk they’ll blow up in your face.”

  “In this case, as I well know, that’s a literal prospect.”

  They fell silent, then he raised their linked hands and settled them in the center of his chest. “There’s one thing we’ve found, one thing we’ve secured, that I hope that fraught moment tomorrow won’t affect—won’t change or alter—regardless of the outcome.”

  Her breath wafting warm and soft against his skin, she murmured, “You and me. And this. That’s already ours, and no one and nothing—no turn of events, however catastrophic—can take it from us.”

  He raised her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Regardless of what happens, we go on together.”

  She nodded. “Together. Into whatever future awaits us, regardless of the vagaries of Fate.”

  He glanced down, but could only see her red-gold curls. “We haven’t discussed our future.”

  “No—and both you and I would rather not. Not at this juncture, this moment of waiting to see what tomorrow brings, whether it be wild success or bitter disappointment.” She paused, then, her voice gaining in confident certainty, went on, “We know our future is there. It won’t disappear if we leave it unaddressed for another day, and I—and you—would rather that when we do eventually come to consider it, we can devote our full attention to it. To us, to defining what we want.”