Page 29 of The Devil's Bargain
“Come now.” He smiled warmly. “Surely, you cannot imagine us being happy together. We wouldn’t last a day without being disloyal.”
Hampton recoiled as if slapped. “How dare you!”
“You are a very wealthy woman now,” he cut in smoothly. “Free to do as you please. Travel. Shop in Paris. Perhaps even catch another wealthy man’s eye.”
“This is about her, isn’t it?” Hampton’s voice turned venomous. “That frigid widow with her patents and her precious filtration system. Well, let me tell you something about your brilliant Caroline—”
“Careful.” The warning in his tone made her falter. “Think very carefully about your next words, Miss Hampton. You’ve got what you wanted. I suggest you leave London, enjoy your newfound wealth, and forget any unfortunate grudges.”
“Forget?” She snatched up the bank draft and stood, trembling with rage. “Oh, I won’t forget this betrayal. And I’ll make sure she never sells you her shares.”
Devlin rose slowly, his height and presence suddenly filling the room. “Do not do anything foolish. You don’t want me as your enemy, Miss Hampton.”
She paled then shoved the bank draft into her reticule. Satisfied, he moved to open the door. “Good day, Miss Hampton. Do enjoy your wealth. Preferably far from London.”
Hampton gathered her skirts, fury and humiliation warring on her face. At the door, she paused. “This isn’t over.”
“Actually, it is. Your fortune awaits. I suggest you focus on that rather than revenge. It’s far more beneficial.”
After she stormed out, Devlin returned to his desk, examining the signed papers with relief. One obstacle down. Unlike Hampton, Caroline would prove a far more rewarding conquest.
14
The Reluctant Mrs Elmstone
“Amarriage of convenience,” Flo said thoughtfully, swirling brandy in her crystal glass. “Though from the way he looks at you, I suspect convenience is the least of his motivations.”
Caroline paced the luxurious private parlour of Madame Tansley’s establishment, her widow’s black rustling with each turn. “He’s blackmailing me into it.”
“And yet you seem more concerned with the timing than the coercion.” Flo’s knowing smile made Caroline flush. “The mourning period needn’t be insurmountable. You’re not aristocracy, after all.”
“But where would we even hold it? I have no family, no friends save you and Thomas. The church where Edward and I married is out of the question. The vicar still glares at me for living with Hampton.”
“Elmstone would understand better than most. He began with nothing too, you know. A guttersnipe stealing scraps from Billingsgate Market.”
Caroline stilled. “Yes, he’d alluded to it.”
“Did he tell you he was found half-frozen under a fish cart one winter? The merchant took him in, taught him numbers. But the man was a drunk who’d beat him bloody. So young Devlin learned everything he could, then used the merchant’s own ledgers to prove he’d been cheating his partners. Took over the business before he was twenty.”
“That’s clever but also...” Caroline swallowed hard. “Merciless.”
“Necessary,” Flo corrected. “Much like your own forgery of Edward’s signature. We do what we must to survive. The difference is, Elmstone clawed his way up from nothing. No loving father, no patents to protect. Just a savage determination to never be powerless again.”
Caroline sank into a chair, her mind spinning. It explained so much—his drive, his cunning, his appreciation for her own desperate schemes. “He rarely speaks of his past.”
“Would you, in his position?” Flo topped off their glasses. “London society barely tolerates him now, even with all his wealth. They’d shun him entirely if they knew he once picked pockets in Seven Dials.”
“Like they shun me for living with Edward’s mistress?” Caroline’s laugh held no humour. “Perhaps we’re well-matched after all.”
“More than you know. You both built empires from nothing, using whatever tools came to hand. The only difference is, he’s not afraid to admit what he wants which is not what he led you to believe.”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed. “What is it he really wants?”
“You, my dear.” Flo’s eyes twinkled with amusement.
Caroline traced the rim of her glass, remembering the intensity in Devlin’s eyes when he’d proposed. Not just possession, she realised now, but recognition. He saw in heranother outsider who’d fought her way up through cunning and sheer force of will.
“He’ll eat me alive,” she whispered.
