Felicia stared at the door for several moments. Then, frowning, she rose and headed for the workshop.
Rand was standing by the engine, cleaning one of the several levers William John had removed from the control panel, when he heard Felicia’s light footsteps coming down the stairs. He turned and was waiting, when she reached the last step and her gaze swept the room, to meet her eyes.
She held his gaze for a moment, then stepped down and walked closer.
Taking in her sober expression and the frown in her eyes, he arched his brows. “You don’t normally grace us with your presence at this hour.”
She looked at William John, who hadn’t raised his head from his intent examination of the pins connecting the control panel to the engine, then returned her gaze to Rand’s face. “There’s been a development of which, I believe, you both need to be informed.”
Alerted by her tone, William John looked up, then straightened, a wrench in his hand. “What’s happened?”
Briefly, she told them what she’d just learned, concluding with “So although we know that some gentleman tried to get our staff to steal the plans, there’s little more to be gleaned.”
Her tale had sent a slight chill through Rand, but... “This really shouldn’t come as a surprise. As we’ve already discussed, there are various parties who would prefer the Throgmorton Steam-Powered Horseless Carriage to never see the light of day.” He focused on Felicia. “However, as the man involved has already quit the area, there’s no sense wasting our time—time we don’t really have—in trying to trace him or those who sent him.”
“He’d hidden his face, too,” William John pointed out. “Without any way to identify him, it’s difficult to point to any particular gentleman as our villain.”
Rand inclined his head, wondering if there was more to the man having so assiduously concealed his features.
Felicia put his speculation into words. “Given we can’t identify the man, then he could have been Mayhew, but I understood he was planning to be out of the area for longer than a few days.”
“If it was him, he would have wanted to conceal his face,” William John said, “but equally, as I understand it, we have no reason to think he’s in any way involved with these attempts to sabotage the engine or that he even has an interest in inventions.”
He looked at Rand and Felicia both.
Reluctantly, Rand nodded. “You’re right. We have no evidence that Mayhew is a threat. On the other hand, this, on top of the attempted break-in, is irrefutable evidence that someone—some decently bred gentleman most likely hired by as-yet-unknown others—is intent on sabotaging this project.”
William John grimaced and nodded.
Felicia looked grave. “What should we do?”
“When it comes down to it, there really isn’t much more we can do, other than ensure that the guards we already have on duty understand that the threat is real and keep alert throughout their watch.” Rand met Felicia’s eyes, then William John’s. “Despite our successes, we still have a lot to do to prove the engine and then get it inserted into the carriage and check that over, too—all before we set out for Birmingham.”
“Six full days before we need to leave.” William John nodded decisively. “We’ll make it.”
“What about the journey?” Felicia met Rand’s gaze. “Surely that would be the perfect opportunity to...well, thrust a spoke in the carriage’s wheels.”
He nodded. “But against that, during the journey, we’ll have extra guards to keep the steam carriage safe. Whoever our ill-wishers are, they will expect that and would presumably conclude that, in reality, it will be easier for them to strike at the invention here, while it’s still at the Hall.”
Felicia frowned, then refocused on Rand’s face. “Is there any way to guess who is behind these attacks?”
Rand thought, then shook his head. “There are too many possibilities, none of which we can discount—too many groups that might have hired a gentleman like the one who recently visited the Norreys Arms. Sadly, ‘gentlemen’ like him are easy to come by in the capital.”
He paused, then, when both Felicia and William John seemed to wish it, he listed their possible opponents. “Other syndicates working on similar projects—I don’t know of any openly working on a steam-powered carriage at this time, but if they kept the work secret, they might now view us as a real threat. Then there are the usual suspects who hold strong views on allowing any steam-powered carriage to succeed. They managed to discount Trevithick’s original, managed to ignore Russell’s improvements and the works of others who’d attempted similar modifications. Yet none of those inventions held the promise of the Throgmorton engine. If they understand the potential, then they would be very keen to see our project fail. And we mustn’t forget the railway companies, the toll-road owners, and all their shareholders. And last but not least, any inventor who feels envious or threatened, or feels he’s been in any way damaged by your father’s past successes—this is, after all, William Throgmorton’s last great invention.”
Felicia and William John pulled almost identically dejected faces.
After a moment, Felicia said, “So at this stage, there’s no chance of identifying who was responsible and therefore no sense in wasting our time attempting to gain sufficient evidence to point a finger.” She nodded more definitely. “This evening, we should warn the men mounting the night watches of the increased chance of another attack.” She met Rand’s eyes, then inclined her head and turned toward the stairs. “I’ll speak to the rest of the household now. They, too, will need to remain alert.”
Rand watched her go, then turned back to William John, who, apparently, had consigned all responsibility for increased security into Rand’s and Felicia’s hands and had dived back into the engine.
* * *
A certain tension pervaded the house. Watchful and on guard even during the day, alert for the slightest movement or noise out of place, the household went about their business, eyes peeled, ears strained.
But there was suppressed excitement running beneath the tension—a sense that no one would be taking aim at the steam engine if it wasn’t a worthy target, implying that William Throgmorton’s last great invention was, indeed, slated to be a spectacular success.
Two nights after the discovery of the attempt to steal the plans, after Flora had retired, Felicia remained in her sitting room, determined to complete her letters to her cousins. She lost track of the time, then Johnson tapped and looked in.