Page 78 of The Designs of Lord Randolph Cavanaugh

From the other side, still out of their sight, some man squeaked, “Lord Cavanaugh—I must protest! Everyone is supposed to come through the main doors so that we may count heads.”

“Indeed?” Rand’s tone was even, yet chilling. “Am I to take it that the committee is prepared to assume full responsibility for any damage the crowd may do before the guards I have organized, who are somewhere in the foyer, reach our exhibit and get into place?”

An irascible mumble came in reply.

“I thought not.” Rand hauled the door fully open.

“We’re here.” Ryder drew Mary and Felicia to one side and waved the men in. “Go and get into position.”

Rand held the door open and pointed. “That way. You’ll find the steam carriage and Mr. Throgmorton close to the end of the aisle.”

The men ducked their heads and streamed past Rand and on down the hall. Felicia, Mary, and Ryder brought up the rear.

Just then, others outside noticed them vanishing into the hall. There were cries and people came running.

Rand slammed the door shut, and Ryder whirled to help him throw the heavy bolts.

Ignoring the thuds on the door and the muffled demands for it to be opened—that it was almost time—Rand turned to the official, now distinctly choleric and inclined to view them all severely. Coolly, Rand waved at Ryder and Mary. “The Marquess and Marchioness of Raventhorne.”

The official goggled, then paled.

Felicia glanced at Ryder and Mary and struggled to swallow a laugh. She’d never seen either look so coldly and arrogantly aloof. They both looked down on the official—quite a feat for Mary given her lack of height—then Mary glanced at Rand. “I take it the inventions are farther along.”

Dismissing the official with an extremely distant nod, Ryder placed his hand at the back of Mary’s waist. “I believe that’s correct, my dear. Shall we see?”

As they stepped toward the central aisle—and the officious official exhaled with poorly concealed relief—the clock in the Town Hall’s tower chimed, tolling for one o’clock. To their left, other officials hauled open the main doors, and the crowd streamed in.

Just ahead of the first wave, Rand, with Felicia’s hand tucked in his arm, followed by Ryder and Mary, swiftly strode down the aisle to where their men had taken up their positions in front of and flanking the Throgmorton Steam-Powered Horseless Carriage.

The four of them halted before the exhibit. Felicia took in the gleaming steam carriage, with William John, remarkably neat and wearing a spotless gray coat, standing proudly before it, and felt tears prickle. She blinked rapidly. She clutched Rand’s hand; her gaze on the sight before her, she said, “Papa would have been so very proud.”

She felt Rand’s gaze on her face, then he ducked his head and murmured, “You should tell William John.”

She swallowed the lump emotion had set in her throat, drew her hand from Rand’s, stepped up to her brother, and did.

William John’s face creased in a fond smile. He met her gaze, and for just a second, she glimpsed the big brother who had played with her in the workshop all those many years before.

Then two well-dressed gentlemen came forward, clearly wishing to speak with William John.

Felicia smiled at the pair and stepped back, releasing her brother to them; she supposed this was one of the major purposes of such an exhibition—to spread word of the invention far and wide.

She walked the few paces to where Rand, Ryder, and Mary stood a little to the side; the brothers, both tall enough to see over most heads, were apparently scrutinizing the security arrangements of other exhibitors.

“The cordons help,” Rand said.

Felicia looked and saw that most exhibits had been cordoned off by thick gold-colored ropes suspended from metal stands.

Ryder humphed. “Looks like you were the only one able to get your guards in ahead of the crowd.”

In front of many of the larger exhibits, guards were still pushing their way out of the body of the crowd and climbing over the golden ropes to take up their positions.

“Obviously,” Mary said, “all inventors take the business of protecting their inventions seriously.” She glanced inquiringly at Rand. “While I can understand the threats to the steam carriage, I hadn’t realized the problem was widespread.”

“It can be a cutthroat business,” Rand replied. He’d been watching William John deal with the gentlemen who had approached, and who had now been joined by several others; Rand and their group were close enough to hear William John’s confident explanation of the improvements made to Russell’s design and the changes to the controls.

Felicia shifted closer to Rand and murmured, “He’s in his element.”

Rand smiled, then looked down at her. “If you’ll wait here for a moment, I’ll just have a word with him.”