Page 38 of The Devil's Bargain
“You deserve someone who appreciates you.” His voice held an edge of old regret. “Not just your patents.”
Now Caroline did glance toward Devlin, finding his attention fixed on her with an intensity that made her falter. He raised his glass slightly in acknowledgement but his eyes remained cold.
“He,” she said carefully, “appreciates more than you might think.”
Thomas studied her face. “You’ve changed, Caroline. There’s a confidence in you that wasn’t there with Thurlow.”
She nodded. “I suppose.”
“I’m relieved you’re not wilting under your husband’s oppression.” He lowered his voice. “If there’s anything you need, remember that you have a friend in me.”
She softened her tone. “Thank you.” She squeezed his arm gently.
Caroline remained acutely conscious of her husband’s watchful presence and found herself wondering which was more dangerous—Devlin’s obvious possessiveness, or the fact that part of her thrilled to it.
Devlin watched with carefully concealed pride as Caroline outlined her latest innovations to the Engineers’ Society. Her voice was clear and confident, her drawings impeccable as she explained complex principles to a room full of sceptical men.
“Preposterous,” Lord Symon interrupted, his face flushed with indignation. “A woman claiming to understand fluid dynamics? Next you’ll tell us she designed the filtration system herself.”
“Actually—” Caroline began, but Symon spoke over her.
“Really, Elmstone,” he turned to Devlin, deliberately ignoring Caroline. “Control your wife. This is embarrassing for all of us.”
Devlin felt rage surge through him at the dismissal in Symon’s tone. His fingers clenched around his glass as he fought the urge to throw the man bodily from the room. But he caught Caroline’s eye and saw the silent plea there—not for rescue, but for support.
“My wife,” he said, his voice carrying clearly through the room, “is the finest engineer in London. I’d stake my entire fortune on her designs.” He moved to stand beside her, not in front of her, his hand settling at the small of her back. “Please continue, my dear. I believe you were explaining the pressure differential calculations?”
Caroline’s smile was brief but brilliant before she turned back to her drawings. “Yes, as I was saying, gentlemen, the copper alloy composition allows for unprecedented efficiency...”
“This is absurd,” Symon blustered. “No respectable business would—”
“Elmstone Brewing has increased production by thirty percent since implementing my wife’s innovations,” Devlin cut in smoothly. “The numbers speak for themselves. Unless, of course, you find basic mathematics as challenging as accepting a woman’s expertise?”
A ripple of surprised laughter went through the crowd. Symon’s face darkened, but several other members were now studying Caroline’s drawings with genuine interest.
“The pressure valve design is particularly ingenious,” Thomas Findlay’s voice cut through the murmurs of disapproval. “I’ve tested similar principles myself.” He moved to stand near Caroline’s drawings, his presence lending credibility to her work. “Would you explain the internal mechanism, Mrs Elmstone?”
Devlin watched as his wife’s expression relaxed and her eyes sparkled toward her acquaintance. It was thoroughly infuriating.
As Caroline launched into a detailed explanation, Devlin maintained his position beside her, his hand perhaps pressing abit too firmly against her back. Though his expression remained impassive, he noted with sharp clarity how naturally Caroline and Findlay worked together, their shared technical vocabulary and easy intellectual rapport speaking of years of collaboration.
Devlin found himself simultaneously grateful for the support and wanting to throttle the man. Instead, he focused on memorising which men seemed swayed by Thomas’s endorsement and which remained hostile—valuable intelligence for future business dealings, he told himself, not at all an attempt to distract from the obvious attachment between his wife and her friend.
When she finished her presentation, the questions were still sceptical but no longer dismissive. Devlin watched her handle each challenge with precision and grace, stepping in only when social conventions demanded it.
“Remarkable work, Mrs Elmstone,” a young engineer named Harrison said afterward while others gathered around to examine her drawings more closely. “Your husband must be very proud.”
“Indeed I am,” Devlin replied, his hand still at her back. “I claim credit for having the good sense to recognise her talent.”
Later, in their carriage, Caroline finally relaxed against her seat. “Thank you,” she said softly though somewhat reluctant. “For understanding what I needed.”
“Which was?”
“A partner, not a protector.” She met his eyes in the dim light. “Though I suppose you managed to be both today.”
Devlin lifted her hand to his lips and was gratified that she didn’t recoil. “The world isn’t ready for a woman innovator, but I intend to help them adjust to the idea, whether they like it or not.”
Her quiet laugh warmed something in his chest. It was a delicate balance, being both husband and champion to a womanso far ahead of her time. But watching her shine today had made him realise he wouldn’t have it any other way.
