* * *
Fifteen minutes later, the deeply resonant bong of a gong rang out over the exhibition hall.
Briskly, the organizers called the still-considerable crowd to attention, insisting the inventors come forward and gather in front of a small dais that had been pushed into place before the open main doors.
William John walked up from the end of the hall. He grinned at Rand and Felicia, then took Felicia’s other arm and dragged the pair of them with him. “Come on.”
There wasn’t time to remonstrate that William John was the true inventor—and Rand wasn’t about to deny that Felicia fully deserved to go forward as well. He wasn’t so sure of his place among those gathered to the fore, but this was not the moment to make a scene.
The venerable chairman of the committee—a member of the Royal Society who had officiated at such events for years—climbed onto the dais and, in ringing tones, announced, “His Highness, Prince Albert, has graciously consented to present our prestigious award of Most Promising Invention of the Year.” The announcement caused a stir; the Prince’s imprimatur would mean the award carried even more weight than it normally did. The chairman continued, extolling the illustrious history of the event and the award.
Before the audience grew restive, the chairman invited Albert to join him on the podium, along with another gentleman bearing the heavy silver statuette that signified the award. The chairman spoke briefly with Albert, then turned to the audience and announced, “Without more ado, the unanimous selection of this year’s committee to receive the award of Most Promising Invention of the Year is the Throgmorton Steam-Powered Horseless Carriage!”
Cheers and applause erupted from all sides, even from the inventors surrounding them.
William John turned to Felicia—he threw his arms around her and hugged her hard.
Felicia laughed. She felt tears fill her eyes.
Still holding tight, William John whispered, “I wish Papa had lived to see this.”
Felicia patted his back. “He didn’t do this—you did.” She knew it was the truth, knew how much of their father’s original design he’d—they’d—changed.
William John released her and met her eyes. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” He looked at the man beside her. “Without you and Rand.”
The organizers were urging William John to come forward. With a huge smile splitting his face, he headed for the dais, towing Felicia behind him. “Come on,” he commanded, including Rand with his gaze.
On the dais, Albert stood holding the statuette and smiling. When William John stepped up, after a few well-chosen and mercifully brief words, the Prince handed William John the statuette.
With a reverent expression taking hold, William John accepted the award. The audience cheered, clapped, and whistled. After a moment, he faced the crowd, waited until they’d quieted, then said, “Inventors are generally solitary, but by the most amazing luck, I was blessed to have more h
elp and support than most ever find.” He glanced at Felicia, then reached out, caught her hand, and tugged her up beside him. “I had my sister, who knows more about concept and design than I ever will, to guide me past the inevitable hurdles”—his gaze moved to Rand, standing beside the dais—“and I had Lord Randolph Cavanaugh and his syndicate of investors—people who understand the vagaries of inventing—to smooth our way and keep us progressing over those hurdles to a successful end.”
William John looked back at the crowd and raised the statuette high. “On behalf of the team who worked on making the Throgmorton Steam-Powered Horseless Carriage a success, I thank Prince Albert and the organizers for this recognition—and wish that, for all the other inventors here today, they find the right teams to support them so that they, too, achieve success.”
The crowd roared. Everyone was smiling, even the inventors passed over for the award.
Rand shook Albert’s hand and those of the committee members. Then he turned to find Felicia and William John waiting, identical smiles wreathing their faces. Rand smiled back, spread his arms, and hugged them both.
Success, at long last, was theirs.
CHAPTER 16
The celebrations lasted far into the night. It was close to midnight, and the publican was looking longingly at the stairs, when Ryder and Mary excused themselves and went up to their room.
William John, Shields, and the men who had been their guards—not counting the four presently standing guard about the barn housing the steam carriage—were still toasting a success William John had insisted be regarded as an all-inclusive team effort. Felicia caught Rand’s eye, then looked toward the stairs.
He smiled, took her hand, rose, and drew her to her feet. To the others, he simply said, “Goodnight, all.”
Felicia paused to add, “Don’t forget we’ll be leaving at nine o’clock sharp.”
Several groans were the only replies, then the group went back to reliving the day’s events.
Smiling, Felicia linked her arm with Rand’s, and they made for the stairs.
They reached her room, and Rand followed her in. She shut the door and turned—to find herself drawn into his arms.
Leaning back against his hold, she looked into his face. The lamps had been turned down, but sufficient light streamed in from outside for her to see his expression. She trapped his eyes with hers, raised her hands and framed his face, and, with heartfelt sincerity, said, “Thank you. I haven’t said that yet today, and I don’t think William John’s acknowledgment went far enough. Without you, we wouldn’t be here—we would never have overcome the hurdles, much less reached such a glorious end.” She hesitated, then, her eyes on his, went on, “More, I wouldn’t have found myself—my true calling. And I wouldn’t now feel so much closer to William John, and so much more reconciled to my father’s ways.” Her voice lowering, she said, “I know I have you to thank for that. If you hadn’t come to the Hall and been willing to stay and work with us to see the invention through, we wouldn’t be where we are.”