Page 7 of The Devil’s Bargain (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life #2)

7

An Ally

T he Crystal Palace’s grand exhibition hall hummed with activity as London’s industrialists gathered to view the latest mechanical innovations. Caroline moved carefully through the crowd, her black widow’s garments providing a measure of respectability as she examined the displayed machinery. Here, at least, her presence could be explained by her late husband’s business interests, though the sideways glances from society matrons still stung.

“Mrs Thurlow.” Mr Finch appeared at her elbow, his expression troubled. “Might I have a moment?”

She followed him to a quiet alcove, noting how he kept glancing over his shoulder. “What is it?”

“Imperial Water & Engineering has made an offer.” He withdrew an envelope from his coat. “Ten thousand pounds for the company outright.”

Caroline accepted the letter with steady hands, though her pulse quickened. “How interesting. And why approach me here?”

“The proprietor, Mr Graves, suggested here would be more... appropriate than calling at your residence. And he believed this matter ought to be dealt with today.” Finch’s discomfort was obvious. “Given your living arrangements.”

“I see.” She scanned the letter’s contents, her jaw tightening at Graves’ remark. “How thoughtful of them to rescue me from my difficult circumstances.”

“It’s a substantial sum,” Finch ventured carefully.

“Is it?” Her voice held doubt. “When the Westminster contract alone will bring twice that annually?”

“Mrs Thurlow—”

“Tell me, Mr Finch, why would Imperial offer so little unless they know something we don’t?” She watched Albert Graves across the room, noting how he conversed with Treasury officials. “Perhaps about upcoming municipal contracts?”

“I couldn’t say.” But his eyes betrayed his concern. “Though there are rumours about their methods of acquiring information.”

Caroline tucked the letter into her reticule. “Please inform Mr Graves that my feminine sensibilities require time to consider such weighty matters. I’m sure he’ll understand my delicate nature.”

“Be careful,” Finch warned quietly. “Imperial has ways of persuading reluctant sellers.”

“Let them try.” She smiled sweetly, though her eyes were hard. “After all, I’m just a helpless widow who barely understands business.”

As she made her way toward the new steam engine, she overheard snippets of conversation:

“Shameful business, that Thurlow situation...”

Let them gossip , she thought. Let them dismiss her as Edward’s foolish widow. She hadn’t survived years of Edward’s neglect and London’s scorn by being weak. They would learn that this widow had teeth.

She’d heard whispers about Imperial’s methods—damaged equipment, lost contracts, reputations suddenly ruined. If she needed an ally against their schemes... well, there was always that devil Elmstone to consider. At least he made no pretence about his methods.

“Fascinating mechanism, isn’t it?” Devlin’s voice came from behind her as she studied a new steam valve design. “Though I suspect your own innovations are far more elegant.”

She didn’t turn, keeping her eyes on the machinery. “Mr Elmstone. I wouldn’t have expected you at such a technical gathering.”

“No?” He moved to stand beside her, close enough that her skin prickled with awareness but far enough to maintain propriety. “I find mechanical innovations quite stimulating. Particularly when they’re explained by brilliant minds.”

Before she could respond, Hampton appeared, her canary yellow dress drawing disapproving looks from several observers. Few mistresses would dare attend such a public event, especially during a mourning period and never so boldly dressed, but Hampton had never shown much concern for social protocol.

“Mr Elmstone!” Her voice carried, making several nearby gentlemen turn. “How fortunate to find you here. I’ve been longing to discuss the latest performances at Vauxhall Gardens.”

Caroline noticed how several people withdrew slightly, creating a bubble of social isolation around them. The notorious widow, the brazen mistress, and the ruthless businessman—they made quite the scandalous trio.

“Miss Hampton.” Devlin’s tone was cordial but cool. “I was just discussing the new pressure regulation system with Mrs Thurlow. I find her technical insights invaluable.”

Hampton’s smile tightened. “Indeed? How fascinating. Though surely such dry topics can wait. I heard there are refreshments and music in the east wing. Perhaps you’d escort me?”

“Another time, perhaps.” His eyes stayed on Caroline. “Mrs Thurlow and I have some unfinished business to discuss.”

A group of merchants approached the display, then hesitated upon seeing them. Caroline heard their whispered comments. “Thurlow’s widow” and “living in sin” among them. Her chin lifted slightly despite her burning cheeks.

Intentional or not, Elmstone sheltered Caroline from their view, creating a cocoon. Although reluctant to be under his protection, she was grateful.

Noticing Hampton still eyeing Elmstone hopefully, Caroline decided she ought to return the favour.

“I believe I shall attend the hydraulic press demonstration,” Caroline said smoothly. “Shall we talk more on our way there, Mr Elmstone?”

“Must you always be so tediously controlling to men, Caroline?” Hampton’s voice dripped honey-coated venom. “Surely you have no right to dictate Mr Elmstone’s activities?”

“We have a business matter to discuss,” Devlin interjected, cognisant of people’s stares and eavesdropping. “I have those contracts we discussed ready for your review, Mrs Thurlow. Perhaps we could go over the terms before the demonstration?”

“Contracts?” Hampton’s eyes narrowed. “What contracts?”

“Merely some routine business matters,” Caroline said quickly as she took Devlin’s proffered arm. His dark chuckle as they made their way down the corridor made her pulse quicken.

“I must thank you for the timely intervention.” His baritone was warm and soothing.

“I merely wished to prevent any schemes you might devise in my absence.”

His answering smile made her heart flutter traitorously. He patted her gloved hand wrapped around his arm. “One can hardly plot effectively with Miss Hampton’s endless chatter, as you well know.”

“Surely her beauty compensates for any deficiency of intellect?”

“If one were so inclined. I find myself rather more discriminating.”

“Indeed?” Caroline’s tone dripped scepticism. “London society would beg to differ regarding your... discriminating tastes.”

“Mrs Thurlow,” he chided, eyes dancing with amusement, “jealousy ill suits you.”

She stared at him, momentarily struck speechless by his audacity.

“Honour me with your company. Dinner, perhaps? Or a turnabout the gardens?” She turned away, but his hand caught hers, placing it properly on his arm. “Do I truly offend you so deeply?”

“Your relentless pursuit despite my wishes offends me.”

“Ah. So you find me handsome, at least.”

She whirled to face him. “I beg your pardon?”

His rich laughter sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine. “I find you utterly captivating, Mrs Thurlow.”

Heat bloomed across Caroline’s cheeks as Elmstone guided her through the exhibition hall, his strong arm beneath her gloved hand a constant distraction. How long had it been since someone had truly seen her as a woman rather than merely Edward’s wife or a scientific curiosity? She’d convinced herself that intellectual respect was all she craved, that feminine allure held no value compared to her innovations. Yet his simple compliment had awakened something long dormant, sending sparks of awareness dancing through her veins. How mortifying , she chided herself, though the warmth in her chest refused to subside.

The real danger, she realised with growing unease, was that she no longer needed to maintain this elaborate pretence. He knew her true nature now… had seen beneath her carefully constructed mask of vapid femininity. Yet instead of retreating to safer ground, she found herself drawn into continued conversations with him, savouring the way his keen mind matched hers, how his eyes sparked with genuine appreciation when she revealed her knowledge. It was a heady feeling, being truly seen and understood so completely, and that made him far more dangerous than his schemes. A man who could appreciate both her mind and her feminine allure was a threat to more than just her business. He was a threat to her heart.

“Your flattery, however skilfully deployed, will not persuade me to part with my shares, Mr Elmstone,” she managed, struggling to steady her voice.

“Thurlow never deserved you,” he murmured, his tone rich with something darker than mere appreciation. “A man who couldn’t recognise the exquisite combination of beauty and brilliance before him. When I discovered the loveliness behind those innovations...” He trailed off meaningfully.

Only then did Caroline realise he had led her into a secluded room, away from prying eyes. Alarm jolted through her as she quickly put distance between them, though some treacherous part of her mourned the loss of his warmth.

“What precisely are your intentions in bringing me here?” Her voice emerged steadier than she felt.

“Peace,” he said softly, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender that somehow made him seem even more dangerous. “I merely wished to speak freely, without London’s finest straining their ears to catch every word.”

“There is nothing to discuss. My company is not for sale, Mr Elmstone, regardless of how many private audiences you orchestrate.”

“And if I offered you something far more valuable than mere capital?” His eyes held hers with unsettling intensity. “Partnership, Caroline. True partnership. Your brilliant mind unleashed, your innovations given the recognition they deserve. No more hiding behind your late husband’s name.”

The proposition hung in the air between them, charged with possibilities she dared not contemplate. How easy it would be to surrender to this devil’s bargain, to let him clear the path before her with his wealth and influence. But Caroline knew better than to trust a man who wielded charm like a weapon.

“You speak of partnership,” she said carefully, “yet your reputation suggests you prefer absolute control. Why should I believe you’d treat me any differently than your other... acquisitions?”

His smile held equal parts appreciation and warning. “Because none of my other acquisitions ever managed to fascinate me quite like you do. Your innovations in pressure distribution are remarkable,” he said, moving to examine a technical diagram on the wall, though she felt his attention remained fixed on her. “Most engineers focus solely on filtration, never considering the elegance of proper flow dynamics.”

“You speak as one who understands the principles,” Caroline observed carefully. “Unusual for a businessman.”

His laugh held a touch of bitterness. “I learned about pressure and flow dynamics the hard way, hauling water barrels at the docks as a boy. Sixpence a day to keep the merchant ships supplied.” He turned to face her. “Rather different from your formal education, I imagine?”

The admission of his humble origins surprised her. “I... had no formal education,” she found herself confessing. “My father was a professor of hydraulics in Edinburgh. He taught me everything he knew, though it scandalised his colleagues.”

“A father who valued his daughter’s mind?” Devlin’s eyes softened. “No wonder you grew into such a force to be reckoned with.”

“He was committed to an asylum when I was twenty-four,” she said quietly, unsure why she was sharing such personal details. “His brilliant mind... fractured. Edward offered marriage and stability when I had nothing left.”

“And promptly locked away your genius behind his name.” Devlin stepped closer, close enough that she could smell his shaving soap. “It seems we’re not so different, you and I. Both climbing our way up from nothing, using whatever tools came to hand.”

“You built an empire,” she pointed out. “I merely improved my husband’s existing business.”

“Improved?” he scoffed gently. “You revolutionised it. Those innovations weren’t just improvements. They were brilliant leaps of imagination that most engineers couldn’t conceive, let alone execute.” His voice dropped lower. “Do you know how rare it is to find someone who truly understands both the science and the business? Someone who sees the poetry in perfectly calibrated systems?”

Caroline found herself swaying slightly toward him, drawn in by the genuine appreciation in his voice. “You’re trying to manipulate me,” she whispered, though the accusation lacked conviction.

“No,” he said simply. “I’m trying to show you that we’re the same. Outsiders who’ve made ourselves indispensable through sheer force of will. Imagine what we could build together, Caroline. Not just water works and breweries, but something extraordinary.”

His use of her Christian name should have shocked her, but somehow it felt right in this moment of shared confidences. “And if I still refuse?”

“Then I’ll continue admiring you from afar,” he said with surprising honesty. “Though I warn you. I’m far more persistent than Edward ever was. I recognise true value when I see it.”

The air between them seemed to thicken with possibility. Caroline found herself studying his face. Not just the sharp aristocratic features that had drawn London’s attention, but the hints of his rougher origins in the slight crookedness of his nose, the tiny scar above his eyebrow. A man who had fought his way up from nothing.

How dangerous he was, this devil who spoke her language of innovation and ambition, who saw her not as a widow to be pitied or a woman to be controlled, but as an equal to be pursued.

“Tell me more,” she heard herself say, “about what you envision us building together.”

His answering smile held equal parts triumph and genuine pleasure. And Caroline knew, even as he began outlining his plans, that she was stepping onto dangerous ground. But she reflected, as his rich voice painted pictures of possibility, that she deserved to dream just once. When she returned home, alone in her study, she would close herself to Devlin Elmstone’s charms and traps. For they were precisely that. Traps. To control her company and her heart.