Page 13 of The Devil's Bargain
It was becoming about far more than mere business strategy. And that, he admitted to himself, made Caroline Thurlow more dangerous than any market volatility.
In his study, Devlin moved to his desk where reports on the company’s assets were spread out. He picked up the letter from the patent office and smiled. It was as he’d suspected. The patent was in Caroline’s name.
The patents were the key piece he’d been missing. He’d wondered, of course. The innovations were far too brilliant for Edward Thurlow’s mediocre mind. But confirmation that Caroline held the patents in her own name changed everything. London Water Works’ established infrastructure would be valuable, certainly, but the true prize was the mind behind those engineering breakthroughs.
If Hampton proved troublesome about selling her shares, he had options now. All he truly needed was Caroline and those patents. Together, they could build something even greater.
He smiled, remembering how she’d flushed slightly when their hands had brushed. Beneath all that fury and determination lay a woman of flesh and blood, one who’d responded to his proximity with quickened breath and dilated pupils. The combination was intoxicating—her brilliant mind housed in such an elegantly sensual form.
He would have to move carefully. Caroline was too intelligent to be fooled by obvious manipulation, too proud to be bought, and too principled to be seduced by mere charm. But then, he’dalways enjoyed a challenge. And Caroline Thurlow was the most fascinating challenge he’d encountered in years.
7
An Ally
The 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’sneglect 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.”
