Page 17 of The Devil's Bargain
Hampton’s cheeks flushed. “Well, I—”
“And as for Madame Tansley’s, I can confirm Mr Elmstone does indeed keep a private suite there. Flo, I mean Madame Tansley, mentioned it to me just the other day,” Caroline lied to shock and annoy the other woman.
“Flo?” Hampton’s teacup clattered against its saucer. “You refer to her by her Christian name?”
“Oh, Madame Tansley is a courtesy title, really. The original Madame Tansley started the establishment decades ago. Flo’s been running it for years now, though I confess I don’t know her family name. Few do. It’s a convenient way to maintaindiscretion in her position.” Caroline smiled sweetly. “But she’s been a dear friend for quite some time.”
Hampton’s face had gone rather pale. “I had no idea you were... acquainted with such persons.”
“My dear Miss Hampton, there’s quite a lot you don’t know about me.” Caroline returned to her accounts, satisfied she’d made her point. She watched from beneath lowered lashes as Hampton shifted on the settee, clearly recalculating her approach. The woman never could resist attempting manipulation, even when outmanoeuvred.
“We could help each other, Caroline. I want my social standing back. Why, when Edward was alive, he took me to the opera, ballet, and all sorts of house parties hosted by his business acquaintances. Mr Elmstone could provide social connections for me and business connections for you, with the right... handling.”
Now we come to it, Caroline thought. Hampton was fishing for permission, trying to establish herself as the natural choice to seduce Devlin. “Are you asking me to support your seduction of Mr Elmstone?”
Hampton’s pretty face turned sly. “I know how to please a man. I’m the natural choice out of the two of us. All you have to do is sit back and reap the benefits of my charm.”
“What makes you think he wouldn’t prefer a woman like me? We have more in common.”
Hampton laughed. “What do you know of men, with your pipes and calculations? Elmstone might want your shares, but he’s a man like any other. From what I hear, he wants delicate on the inside and curvaceous on the outside.”
Caroline returned to her accounts, dismissing Hampton with indifference.
Hampton continued, “I don’t need your permission, but you could assist me by staying out of my way. Stop monopolising his time when we’re together.”
Caroline’s mind was racing, not from Hampton’s crude manipulations, but from the unexpected intelligence about Madame Tansley’s. If Devlin truly kept a private suite there, it could prove useful. She just wasn’t certain how.
Caroline made her way through the quiet back streets toward Madame Tansley’s establishment, her thoughts turning to her long friendship with Florence Archer. Six years had passed since that fateful night when Caroline had discovered her maid Lucy sobbing in the kitchen, confessing how her father’s gambling debts had forced her into Drury Lane’s darkest corners. Rather than abandon the girl, Caroline had sought out the woman whispered about in servants’ circles—the mysterious Madame Tansley who helped women escape such desperate circumstances.
What began as helping one woman evolved into something far greater. While Caroline had initially offered financial support, she soon discovered her mathematical skills were of more use. Helping Flo transform the generous endowment from The Sovereign Seas Trading Corporation, granted by the Earl of Carlisle half a century ago, into a thriving enterprise that sustained both the brothel’s legitimate business and its charitable works. Caroline found satisfaction in balancing the books each month, knowing that behind the glittering façade ofLondon’s most exclusive establishment lay a sanctuary that had helped dozens of women reclaim their lives and dignity.
Now, as she slipped through the servants’ entrance, Caroline smiled at how naturally their unlikely friendship had developed. Flo’s sharp wit and shrewd understanding of human nature complemented Caroline’s analytical mind perfectly. The fact that Tansley’s “house” also served as an exceptional gathering place for intelligence was, as Flo often said with a wink, simply good business sense. She had become one of Caroline’s closest confidantes and most trusted allies.
“My dear Caroline.” Flo’s voice held the musical lilt of a woman who knew too much about men’s desires. She arranged her silk skirts with grace as she settled into the chair. “There are safer ways to gather intelligence than this. These men... their hands tend to wander where their minds already have. Is it worth compromising your dignity? You’re a woman of science, of innovation.”
“And what good is innovation without influence?” Caroline’s fingers traced the edge of Flo’s ornate dressing table. “I’m caught in a web of my own making. Too improper for society’s wives, too proper for their husbands’ business ‘dealings’ at The Argyll Rooms. Meanwhile, contracts slip through my fingers, and Devlin Elmstone circles like a vulture, waiting for me to surrender London Water Works to his empire.”
“Very well.” Flo rose with fluid elegance, her fingers tilting Caroline’s chin toward the mirror. “If you’re determined to play this dangerous game, let’s ensure you play it brilliantly. Your beauty is like a pearl still in its shell—understated, waiting to be revealed. We’ll place you in the blue room, adjacent to Lord William’s usual chambers.”
Caroline inhaled sharply. “Lord William? The Governor of the Bank of England?”
“Indeed. His lordship has engaged Samantha for Saturday next.” Flo’s smile held secrets. “Return at nine that evening, and we’ll transform you into something all together more... dangerous.”
“And...” Caroline hesitated, heat rising in her cheeks. “Mr Elmstone? I understand he’s a regular patron.”
“Ah, yes. He favours Sage for her wit, Laura for her curves. Occasionally both at once.”
“Is he...” Caroline swallowed, trying to hide her shock. “Is he particularly demanding in his tastes?”
“Nothing too shocking, dear. He simply enjoys the illusion of control. Silk ribbons, blindfolds, that sort of thing. Quite tame, really, compared to some.”
Caroline’s eyes widened. “Surely you don’t mean...”
“Oh, my sweet innocent.” Flo’s laugh sparkled like champagne. “You know very well our organisation find respectable work and marriage for women who don’t wish to work here. Those who do quite enjoy this work—being bound, spanked, even... Well, let’s not scandalise you further.”
“And his reputation for violence?” Caroline asked carefully.
Flo swiped the air with one hand, dismissing the rumour. “It’s reserved strictly for men who deserve it. With women, he’s rather...” she paused deliberately, “...skilled at giving pleasure.”
