At that moment, his world was perfect—even more perfect than he’d imagined it might be. The Throgmorton steam engine had proved to be an even more impressive invention than anyone could have foreseen, and the lady sitting quietly beside him embodied the promise of a future beyond anything he had dreamed.
Fate—or whatever power it was that ruled the universe—had moved its various cogs and gears into alignment to raise the prospect of the ultimate result.
All they needed to do to claim the ultimate prize, with its many ribbons, was get the Throgmorton Steam-Powered Horseless Carriage to the exhibition on time.
CHAPTER 13
The next morning dawned bright and clear, a brilliant summer day in the heart of England’s green and leafy land. After an early breakfast, the party traveling to the exhibition gathered in the forecourt, packed and ready to depart.
Although Mary had ridden the relatively short distance from Raventhorne the previous day, Ryder had ordered their traveling coach to follow, and it had arrived later that afternoon. Now, with its team of four horses between the shafts, the coach stood ready on the gravel. The footmen piled Mary’s, Ryder’s, Rand’s, Felicia’s, and William John’s bags into the boot or lashed them onto the roof behind the coachman.
Then the guards, all mounted and wearing livery—tabards displaying the Raventhorne coat of arms—came clopping down the path from the stable. The Hall household, gathered about Flora on the front porch, chattered and watched. The rising tide of excitement was palpable, investing swift smiles and the rush of action as everyone hurried to take their place.
As per their deliberations the previous evening, their company formed up in a small cavalcade. It had been decided four riders—three of Ryder’s men plus Shields—would lead the way, followed, at what they hoped would be a safe enough distance of one to two hundred yards, by the steam-powered horseless carriage, with William John at the wheel.
Rand would sit beside William John, at least for the first leg of the journey, but Ryder, Felicia, and Mary had all stated their wish to ride with William John at some point. All were eager to experience the thrill of bowling along with no horse before them.
Behind the horseless carriage, separated again by a few hundred yards, would come four more mounted guards, closely followed by the traveling coach, with a pair of outriders bringing up the rear.
Ryder handed Mary, then Felicia, up into the coach, then shut the door; he’d elected to ride and, if need be, act as a messenger back and forth along their line.
Mary and Felicia promptly hung out of the windows, just in time to see Rand stride up.
Rand met Felicia’s eyes, then he looked at Ryder. “Ready?”
“Quite.” Ryder smiled his lazy smile. “We’re an impressive sight.”
Rand turned to look along the line, then nodded. “Indeed, and now”—he swung to grin at Mary and Felicia—“it’s time we got under way.” His expression sobered and turned determined. “Keep your eyes peeled.” With that and a brief salute, he strode back up the line.
Ryder, too, saluted Mary and Felicia, then gathered the reins of his huge gray hunter and swung up to the saddle.
Distantly, they heard the clatter of horses moving off, then came the soft cough followed by a purring hum they now recognized as the steam-powered engine starting up.
Mary and Felicia exchanged a look, then both shifted to the other side of the carriage and hung out of the windows to peer ahead and witness the moment. Courtesy of the curve of the drive, they could see the steam-powered carriage, with William John behind the wheel; as the first group of riders had disappeared between the avenue’s trees, the steam carriage was now at the head of the line.
Rand climbed up to the seat and sat beside William John. The steam carriage purred for another minute—no doubt to let the advance guards get far enough ahead for the horses not to be spooked by the engine—then William John adjusted a lever and the sound of the engine changed; he released the brake, and with a small lurch and the crunch of gravel under its wheels, the steam carriage rattled off.
The company assembled on the porch gave vent to a resounding cheer.
William John and Rand responded with triumphant grins and waves.
Smiling more broadly than she ever had, Felicia watched the steam carriage roll out of sight down the drive, then she sat back, settling against the luxurious leather seat. She saw her own excitement reflected in Mary’s bright-eyed smile and admitted, “This feels like a dream that I hadn’t dared to dream actually coming true. Until Rand arrived, and even in the weeks after that while we struggled to get the invention working as it should, I could never quite imagine that we would ever reach this point—setting off for the exhibition with a working engine leading the way.”
Mary continued to smile, but faintly—almost wryly—arched her brows. Her gaze drifted to the window beyond which Ryder sat his horse, waiting for the guards ahead of the traveling coach to move off. “One thing you can say about the Cavanaughs,” she confided, “is that they are dogged and never give up.”
Felicia considered that, then inclined her head. “Those certainly seem to be family traits.”
Then Ryder called an order, and the coach lurched into motion. Mary shifted to the window alongside which her husband was riding, and Felicia quit the rear-facing seat to sit beside Mary.
Felicia straightened her skirts, then sat back. Her gaze passed over the trees lining the drive.
Keep your eyes peeled.
There—among the shadows.
She blinked, then stared. As the carriage rolled on, she turned to look back, trying to spot what she thought she’d seen.
“What is it?” Mary asked.