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.”