Page 15 of The Devil’s Bargain (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life #2)

15

A Shift

C aroline found Devlin in his study, surrounded by technical drawings of the brewery’s filtration system. She studied the design over his shoulders, her fingers itching to correct the obvious flaws. But she forced them to remain still at her sides. She wouldn’t help this fiend, no matter how intriguing the engineering challenge.

“Mrs Elmstone,” he said without looking up. “What a pleasure to have you here.”

“Miss Adler mentioned you requested my presence.” She kept her voice proper, even as she stared at the mistake with a frown. “Though I can’t imagine why, since you seem to have everything well in hand.”

Now he did look up, his eyes studying her face. “Ah. You’ve noticed the design flaws.”

“I notice many things, Mr Elmstone. Including how this meeting is not part of our agreement.”

“Our agreement?” His mouth curved slightly. “You mean our marriage contract where you promised to help advance our joint business interests?”

“I promised nothing,” she snapped.

“Not in so many words but...” He leaned back, gesturing to the drawings. “But surely your curious mind can’t resist a proper engineering challenge? The pressure differential alone is causing a fifteen percent loss in efficiency.”

Despite herself, Caroline found her eyes drawn to the diagrams. “Twenty percent. Your calculations failed to account for pipe diameter variations.”

“Did I?” His voice held genuine interest rather than mockery. “Show me.”

“I will not.” But she took an unconscious step closer to the desk.

“No?” He shifted one of the drawings, revealing a series of complex mathematical calculations. “Then I suppose I’ll have to solve it myself. Though these quarterly production figures suggest we’re losing nearly eight thousand pounds annually to inefficiency...”

Caroline’s hands clenched. The numbers were wrong. The losses were closer to twelve thousand, and the solution was elegant in its simplicity. All it would take was—

“No,” she said firmly, more to herself than him. “I won’t be manipulated.”

“Manipulated?” A crease formed between his brows. “I’m merely sharing a technical problem with my wife, who happens to be the finest engineer in London.”

“Flattery won’t work either.”

“Not flattery. Fact.” He stood, moving to pour them both brandy. “Though if you’re not interested, I understand. It’s only that I’ve never seen someone grasp fluid dynamics quite the way you do. Your innovations with the pressure release valve alone are revolutionary.”

She accepted the brandy without thinking, her mind already racing through possible solutions. “The problem isn’t just the pressure differential,” she found herself saying. “It’s the interaction between—” She stopped abruptly.

“Between?” His eyes sparked with excitement. “Please, continue. I’ve been puzzling over this for weeks.”

Caroline took a large swallow of brandy, cursing her weakness for interesting problems. “I hate you,” she said conversationally.

“I know.” He smiled, pulling out a chair for her. “But you love engineering more than you hate me. At least for the moment.”

She sat, already reaching for a pencil. “This changes nothing between us.”

“Of course not.” But his voice held warmth as he settled beside her. “Now, tell me more about this interaction you noticed.”

As they worked late into the night, Caroline tried to maintain her wall of resentment. But it crumbled slightly every time he asked an intelligent question or offered an insightful observation. How different their interaction was compared to her working relationship with her late husband. Elmstone listened, valued her opinion, and understood the technical complexities. By the time they had solved the efficiency problem, she had to admit—if only to herself—that working with him was surprisingly satisfying.

“Thank you,” he said softly as she gathered her things to leave. “Your mind truly is remarkable.”

“Good night, Mr Elmstone.” She moved toward the door, then paused. “The secondary valve would work better with a copper alloy. It’s more resistant to corrosion.”

His smile lit up his entire face. “I look forward to discussing that tomorrow.”

“I didn’t agree to—” But she was already mentally calculating the proper ratios. “Damn you,” she muttered, sweeping out of the room.

His warm chuckle followed her down the hall, along with the unwelcome realisation that she was actually anticipating tomorrow’s discussion. It seemed the devil knew exactly how to tempt her after all—not with flowers or intimacy, but with the one thing she couldn’t resist: an engineering puzzle worthy of her talents.

Devlin stood at the window of his study, brandy forgotten in his hand as he replayed every moment of their interaction. The way her eyes had lit up when she spotted the flaw in his calculations. How her fingers had moved with passionate precision across the page, her entire body animated as she explained complex principles that had eluded his best engineers.

“Bloody brilliant,” he murmured, a smile tugging at his lips despite his guilt. He hadn’t entirely fabricated the filtration problem. The inefficiencies were real enough. But he’d deliberately left the obvious errors in the drawings, knowing her keen mind wouldn’t be able to resist correcting them.

He moved to examine her additions to his diagrams, tracing her elegant handwriting with one finger. Her technical mastery both awed and unsettled him. For all his business acumen, for all the power he’d clawed his way up from the gutters to achieve, he was painfully aware of the gaps in his formal education. Yet she’d treated his questions with surprising patience, explaining complex theories without a hint of condescension.

“Well played, you scheming bastard,” he told his reflection in the darkened window. He’d got what he wanted—her brilliant mind engaged in his business. But the victory felt hollow when he remembered the cold fury in her eyes, the rigid way she held herself away from him.

He’d forced this marriage on her, used her past against her. The fact that he’d fallen half in love with her by then didn’t excuse his methods. No matter how right they felt together, he’d robbed her of choice. The guilt of it gnawed at him.

But he wasn’t selfless enough to let her go. Not when he’d glimpsed how magnificent they could be together.

“The copper alloy,” he mused, smiling as he recalled her parting suggestion. She hadn’t needed to share that insight. It was a small thing, but it gave him hope. Perhaps, with time and patience, he could earn her trust. Not just her mind, but her heart as well.

He began drafting a note to his metallurgist about procuring copper samples for testing. Tomorrow, he’d have them ready when she arrived because he knew she would, despite her protests. He’d seen the familiar hunger in her eyes, the same drive for excellence that consumed him.

“Time to update the ledgers,” he muttered, pulling out his account books. He’d need to restructure several investments to fund these improvements, but the thought now energised rather than daunted him. Every pound spent on her innovations was an investment in their future together.

Hours later, Devlin hesitated only briefly at Caroline’s door before entering. The moonlight caught her form beneath the sheets, and his breath lodged in his throat at how small and vulnerable she looked. So different from the fierce woman who had challenged him hours earlier.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he slipped beneath the covers. Caroline stiffened immediately, clearly not as asleep as she’d appeared.

“What are you doing?” Her voice was sharp with displeasure.

“Coming to bed, wife.” He kept his tone gentle despite the tension radiating from her. “As is my right.”

“Your right?” She started to move away, but he caught her waist, drawing her back against him.

“Please,” he whispered against her hair. “Let me hold you. Nothing more.”

His arousal was impossible to hide completely with her soft form pressed against him, but he focused on keeping his touch gentle, non-threatening. His hand found hers where it lay clenched in the sheets, his thumb stroking her palm until her fingers gradually relaxed.

“I never learned to read properly until I was twelve,” he found himself confessing, his voice barely audible. “Numbers came easily, but letters... they danced on the page. Tonight, watching you work, I felt that same shame. Like a guttersnipe pretending at education.”

Caroline held her breath. After a long moment, she whispered, “You asked intelligent questions.”

“Because you made complex principles clear.” His fingers traced idle patterns on her wrist, feeling her pulse flutter beneath his touch.

The silence stretched between them, filled with unspoken things. Finally, she shifted slightly, not closer exactly, but no longer rigid with resistance.

“Your mathematical intuition is remarkable,” she offered quietly. “Especially for someone without formal training.”

He pressed his smile against her shoulder, recognising the olive branch for what it was. “High praise indeed, from London’s finest engineer.”

“Go to sleep, Mr Elmstone.”

But her hand remained relaxed beneath his, and when his arm tightened slightly around her waist, she didn’t protest. It wasn’t acceptance, not yet. But as he drifted off to sleep surrounded by the subtle lavender scent of her hair, Devlin allowed himself to hope that perhaps it was a beginning.