Page 5 of The Devil’s Bargain (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life #2)

5

A Chance Encounter

D evlin stood at his study window, watching the fog roll off the Thames. “You’re certain of her schedule?”

“Like clockwork, sir.” Jenkins consulted his notebook. “Mrs Thurlow takes her constitutional in Hyde Park each morning precisely at ten. Always the same path toward the Serpentine.”

Devlin nodded pensively. “And the other matter?”

“Miss Hampton was seen dining with Albert Graves from Imperial Water & Engineering. She appeared... quite receptive to his attention. There are rumours they’ve secured certain... advantages through their Treasury connections.”

Devlin’s fingers tugged at his cravat. Hampton might be a fool, but she’d been Edward Thurlow’s mistress long enough to know valuable details about the company’s operations. Given that Imperial had been systematically acquiring smaller water companies across London, if they were courting her…

“They’ve been buying up the competition,” Devlin said.

If Imperial got their hands on Caroline’s filtration system patents through Hampton’s loose tongue, Elmstone Brewing would stand no chance.

“Time grows short,” he murmured. “And our pretty widow proves more elusive than expected.”

“Shall I arrange another formal meeting?” Jenkins asked.

“No.” Devlin adjusted his cravat. “I believe I’ll take a walk this morning. Around ten, perhaps.”

The spring morning sparkled with promise as Caroline walked through Hyde Park’s winding paths. She’d chosen this hour carefully—late enough that her solitary walk wouldn’t raise eyebrows, early enough that most of London’s fashionable society still slumbered. The quiet gave her space to think, to calculate, to plan.

“Mrs Thurlow!” The rich baritone shattered her solitude. “What a delightful surprise.”

Caroline’s shoulders tensed before she arranged her features into an expression of vapid pleasure. Devlin Elmstone approached, looking devastatingly handsome in his morning coat. Though she suspected his “chance” encounter was about as accidental as her own carefully timed walks had been this past week.

“Mr Elmstone.” She dipped into a small curtsey, noting how his eyes followed the movement. “How fortunate to meet you here.”

“Indeed.” He fell into step beside her, too close for propriety. “It’s a fine morning for a walk.”

“Mr Elmstone,” she said in a low voice, glancing anxiously at a passing couple. “I am in mourning. It would be most improper to be seen walking with a gentleman.”

“Then allow me to suggest a more discrete path.” His eyes held a dangerous glint of amusement.

She hesitated, aware of more curious glances from other walkers. Her reputation was already precarious enough, living in the same house as Edward’s former mistress. The last thing she needed was rumours about walks with London’s most notorious businessman.

“Very well,” she conceded with obvious reluctance. His hand settled at her waist, steering her toward a tree-lined avenue. She noted how his chosen path would take them past the brewery district. How convenient.

“You see?” His voice held that insufferable note of satisfaction. “Much more suitable for a lady in your delicate situation.”

Caroline allowed herself to be guided while mentally calculating how much information she could extract about his business during this “chance” encounter. “You are too kind to consider my reputation, Mr Elmstone.”

They walked in silence for a moment, Caroline careful to maintain an appropriate distance despite his attempts to draw closer. As they approached an ornate stone arch, Devlin paused.

“Ah, the Lover’s Arch,” he said, gesturing to the Latin inscription carved above. “Sub arcu amor fulget, sussurri dulces, cor evolat.”

“How lovely!” Caroline fluttered her fan. “Though I’m afraid my education didn’t extend to Latin.”

His smile held a hint of condescension. “It means ‘Beneath the arch, love shines bright. Sweet whispers, the heart takes flight.’ Legend says those who pass beneath it will find their true love’s destiny fulfilled.”

“How romantic!” She forced a girlish giggle. “Though I’m sure a man of business like yourself has little time for such fanciful notions.”

“On the contrary.” His voice dropped lower as he guided her under the arch. “I find certain... partnerships quite intriguing.”

“Do you indeed?” She pretended to study a nearby flower. “Though surely your interests lie more in beer than romance?”

“Ah, so you’re aware of my brewery.”

“Oh yes!” She brightened with carefully calculated enthusiasm. “The drays with your name pass my house daily. So many barrels! Though I can’t imagine how you manage to make enough beer to fill them all.”

His laugh held genuine amusement. “Our current capacity is thirty thousand barrels annually, though with the right improvements we could double that.”

“Gracious!” She pressed her gloved fingers to her lips. “So many numbers make my head spin. Is clean water important for brewing? Is that why you’re keen on purchasing Edward’s company?”

“Indeed.” His eyes sharpened with interest. “Which reminds me of our previous discussion regarding London Water Works. Have you given any thought to my offer?”

“Oh, business matters are so tedious.” She waved her fan dismissively while her mind raced through calculations. Thirty thousand barrels, each requiring precise filtration... With her system, he could increase production by at least sixty percent without additional space requirements. The profit margin alone would be astronomical.

“A lady in your position shouldn’t have to concern herself with such matters,” he said smoothly. “Allow me to take that burden from your shoulders.”

“You’re too kind.” She paused to admire a flowering bush, buying time to think. “Though Mr Finch says the company’s value has increased considerably since Edward’s passing.”

A flash of frustration crossed his face before his mask of solicitous concern returned. “The responsibilities must be overwhelming. Surely you’d prefer a life of ease? Perhaps even travel?”

“Travel does sound lovely.” She sighed dramatically. “Though I fear my understanding of foreign languages is as limited as my grasp of Latin.”

“Perhaps I could be your guide,” Devlin offered smoothly. “Paris in spring. The fashions, the opera, the finest pastry shops in Europe. A lady of your refinement would be quite at home there.”

“How thoughtful of you to consider my pleasure, Mr Elmstone.”

“I find that business need not exclude life’s finer enjoyments.” His voice softened persuasively. “With the resources from selling your shares, you could maintain a house in Mayfair, attend all the best social gatherings.” He paused as he looked at her askance. “Lady Jersey spoke of you just the other day.”

Caroline’s fan stilled for just a moment. Lady Jersey was one of Almack’s most formidable patronesses.

“Did she indeed?” Caroline kept her tone carefully disinterested.

“She was quite receptive when I mentioned what a... shame it was that certain temporary circumstances had kept you from Almack’s.” He held her eyes meaningfully. “She agreed that a woman of your background deserves better than to be judged by unfortunate living arrangements that were not of your choosing.”

The offer hung between them—social redemption, vouchers to Almack’s, acceptance back into the highest circles of society. All merely for the price of her shares in the company.

“How charitable of you to speak on my behalf,” she murmured, though her mind raced. Few powers in London could override an Almack’s patroness’s disapproval. That Devlin wielded such influence was... intriguing.

When she said nothing further, something shifted in his expression. “There’s also... another project I’ve been considering. One that requires significant capital.”

“Oh?” Caroline fluttered her fan, the picture of mild interest.

“Clean water for London’s poorest districts. At rates they could actually afford. The children in St. Giles are drinking from contaminated wells. With the right infrastructure, we could prevent so many needless deaths.”

This unexpected revelation gave her a pause and something to ponder. Whether it was truth or manipulation remained to be seen.

Caroline maintained her blank smile. “How charitable of you. That sounds like a wonderful initiative. Perhaps you could discuss a possible donation with Mr Finch.”

“Of course.” His mask of polite condescension returned. “I shouldn’t trouble you with such details. Shall we discuss more pleasant topics?”

As he continued describing the wonders of France and Italy, Caroline noted how his frustration manifested in subtle ways—the tightening of his jaw, the slight edge to his tone. He was used to getting his way, this devil who thought her simple.

“The morning grows late,” she said finally. “I really must return home. These business matters you mention quite exhaust me.”

“Allow me to escort you.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly impose.” She stepped away before he could touch her again. “Though I do so appreciate your kindness in explaining all those complicated numbers about your brewery. Thirty thousand barrels! My word!”

She moved away before he could protest, her skirts swishing demurely against the gravel path. A tad excessive with her enthusiasm perhaps, but let him puzzle over that small slip. His prejudice would likely dismiss whatever suspicion he might have.

As she made her way home, Caroline found her thoughts returning unbidden to the way Devlin Elmstone had looked in the morning light, his tall frame cutting an impressive figure against the sky, those compelling eyes that seemed to see too much despite his assumptions about her. The way his mouth curved when he smiled, equal parts predatory and charming. Even his hands had drawn her attention—strong and elegant, gesturing as he spoke about his brewery.

She shook her head, irritated with herself. The devil was handsome, yes, but that only made him more dangerous. The way he’d moved closer during their walk, his presence overwhelming her senses, the subtle scent of his shaving soap teasing her... it was all calculated to disarm her, she was certain. Though her traitorous body had responded to his proximity in ways that concerned her.

The memory of his voice dropping low when he’d spoken of Almack’s sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine. Such a masterful seduction, offering everything a respectable widow might want while looking at her in a way that suggested he’d like to offer considerably more.

But she couldn’t afford to be distracted by his devastating charm, no matter how her pulse quickened when he was near. She had a company to protect and a game to play. Even if her opponent was proving far more appealing than she’d anticipated.