He snorted softly and turned from the window. He opened the door and walked along the corridor into the gallery, then descended the stairs. A salver for letters for the post was sitting where he’d assumed one would be—on the side table in the front hall. He left his letter on the salver, on top of one written by either Felicia or Flora, judging by the delicate writing.
As he was about to turn away, his gaze fell on the door to the workshop. It was closed, and he’d checked the bar across the double doors on the lower level himself before he’d followed William John upstairs for dinner.
The workshop was secure. The invention was safe.
There was no danger to anyone—at least, not tonight.
Yet his nerves—his instincts—were still twitching.
His lips setting, Rand turned and went up the stairs.
Five minutes later, he settled in the bed, closed his eyes, and—somewhat to his surprise—fell instantly asleep.
* * *
A clanging commotion jerked Rand awake. The noise didn’t stop. Whatever it was continued to clatter and bang.
He leapt from the bed. As he grabbed his trousers, he glanced at the window—and, in the faint silvery light shed by a crescent moon, saw a man fleeing across the lawn to dive into the wood.
Cursing, Rand thrust his legs into his trousers and shoved his feet into his shoes. He shrugged on a shirt and headed for the door.
The clanging was slowing, but hadn’t ceased.
Still buttoning his shirt, he strode down the corridor—and saw Felicia, swathed in a silk wrapper and carrying a candlestick, in the gallery ahead of him.
He caught up with her as she started down the stairs. Going down three and four at a time, he waved at her. “Stay back!”
On reaching the hall tiles, he glanced over his shoulder—only to see her hurrying down.
She pinned him with a furious glare. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Cursing anew, this time under his breath, he turned and strode on. He hauled open the door to the workshop—the clanging had come from there, but had almost stopped, fading in a rather curious way.
All below him lay in inky darkness.
Tight-lipped, he swung around, seized one of the candles left on the hall table, lit the wick from the candle Felicia—her expression stoic, but concern leaping in her eyes—held steady. Then he turned once more to the workshop stairs.
“Wait!”
Rand looked around to see William John, the skirts of his dressing gown flying about him, a lighted candelabra in his hand, come hurrying down the stairs.
Johnson appeared behind his master, and Shields, Corby, and the two footmen came thundering down in their wake.
“It’s all right,” William John assured them all. “If they’d got through, the sound would have changed.”
“What was that racket?” Felicia asked.
William John grinned. “It’s an alarm Papa and I rigged up. It goes off if anyone tries to force the workshop doors.” He pushed past Rand and started down the workshop stairs. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
Everyone clattered down the stairs, even Mrs. Makepeace, Cook, Mrs. Reilly, Mr. Reilly, and their four daughters—the maids of the house.
In the workshop, William John threw the switch that, with a buzzing hum, set the gaslights blazing. He stood back and surveyed the doors, then laughed. “It worked perfectly.” He pointed to a structure mounted on the wall high above the double doors. “See there? That’s our alarm.”
Rand had noticed the contraption earlier, but had assumed that, it being connected to the bars that secured the doors, it was merely some mechanism to lift them that was no longer in use. He came to stand beside William John and studied the mechanism of gears and levers, and what appeared to be several saucepans with their handles cut off. He debated asking how it worked, but feared William John would immediately demonstrate. If the noise had been so loud it had hauled the entire household from their beds, then in the stone-walled workshop, th
e cacophony would be horrendous. Nevertheless...he glanced at William John. “Very effective.” He had to give credit where it was due.
“It was, wasn’t it?” William John beamed. “I’ve been wanting to test it for an age, but there’s nothing like a true test of an invention to give one confidence.”