Page 4 of The Devil's Bargain
“Business?” Hampton laughed, a tinkling sound. “My dear, are you certain his interests don’t lie elsewhere?” She stood, smoothing her skirts. “I should warn you though. He’s known for pursuing his pleasures and discarding them just as quickly. Much like Edward, as you’ve experienced firsthand.”
Caroline kept her expression neutral. “I’m sure you’d know better than I about such matters.”
Hampton’s smile tightened. “Just so. Which is why I feel we ought to invite him to dine with us.”
“Miss Hampton… Melissa. We can’t be seen entertaining guests so soon after Edward’s funeral.”
“It’s not pleasure. It’s business, although I may ask him to bring a bachelor friend.” The woman giggled like a schoolgirl.
“That is improper.”
“Perhaps you should’ve thought of that before monopolising him at Edward’s reception. As equal partners in the company, we should both be present for any business discussions, don’t you agree? Next time Mr Elmstone wants an audience with you, I suggest you alert me to it.” With a pout, Hampton sashayed out.
Caroline sat at her desk, mind racing. The industrial contract was signed and safely filed, but she needed to move quickly now before Hampton dipped her fingers in every pie. She pulled out fresh paper and began to write:
Dear Mr Davies,
Regarding our discussion of the textile manufacturing project, I write on behalf of London Water Works to confirm our commitment to the timeline outlined in your proposal...
She worked through the afternoon, sending letters to every major client, reassuring them of the company’s stability and confirming their ongoing contracts. Each letter was carefully worded to remind them of their dependence on London Water Works’ superior filtration system—her system.
A knock at the door interrupted her work. “Come in.”
Her secretary, Miss Adler, entered with the evening post. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but Miss Hampton asked me to inform you she’s ordering new furnishings for the main parlour. She says the current pieces are too sombre.”
“Did she indeed?” Caroline set down her pen. “And how does she intend to pay for these furnishings?”
“She... she mentioned accessing the company accounts, ma’am.”
“I see.” Caroline opened her desk drawer and withdrew the banking documents she’d prepared after the will reading. “Please inform Miss Hampton that all company expenditures now require both partners’ signatures. The bank has been notified.” She allowed herself a small smile. “Perhaps she’d prefer to redecorate her private sitting room instead. With the fifty pounds a month allowance Edward gave her for over a decade.”
After Miss Adler left, Caroline returned to her letters, but a question remained in the forefront. Was Hampton planning to seduce Devlin Elmstone? If they became a team, that would be terrible for London Water Works. Hampton would use Elmstone’s connections and wealth to run it into the ground. That, or Elmstone would become her proxy partner. Caroline would lose her autonomy. She needed to establish her own weapons—alliances, contracts, patents to better systems, and a detailed understanding of future projects in London.
She paused her writing, remembering the intensity in Devlin’s eyes. Should she be the one to seduce him before Hampton got to him?
She glanced toward the industrial contract locked safely in her drawer. She’d already crossed one line to protect her work. She was prepared to cross others if necessary.
Standing, she moved to the window. The sun was setting over London, casting a golden glow over the city’s countless chimneys and water towers. Somewhere out there, Devlin Elmstone was likely plotting his next move to take over her company. Hampton was undoubtedly planning her seduction. And Caroline? She would need to do better. Much better.
3
The Devil’s Price
Caroline bent over the drafting table in her study, trying to focus on the technical drawings before her. But her mind kept drifting to the way Devlin Elmstone’s presence had filled the drawing room, how his piercing gaze had roved over her form appreciatively.
A knock interrupted her thoughts. Miss Adler entered with a letter bearing his distinctive seal. Caroline’s fingers deftly broke the wax.
His handwriting was bold and commanding, much like the man himself. She found herself tracing the firm strokes of his signature, remembering how those large hands had engulfed hers at the reception. With irritation, she snatched her fingers away from the paper.
The letter outlined his initial offer for the company—insultingly low, of course. But it was his postscript that made her breath catch:
I find myself intrigued by the woman behind the widow’s weeds. Perhaps we could discuss terms over dinner?
“Insufferable man,” she muttered, though her cheeks warmed at his presumption. She penned a coldly polite refusal, unwilling to acknowledge how her pulse quickened at the thought of those piercing eyes studying her across a dinner table.
When she arrived at the Merchant’s Exchange, she told herself she’d chosen her most severe black dress solely for propriety’s sake. It had nothing to do with how the silk clung to her curves, or how the high collar emphasised the elegant line of her throat.
She felt his presence before she saw him. Looking up, she found him watching her from across the room, his gaze heated in a way that made her skin flush despite herself. When their eyes met, his mouth curved in a knowing smile that sent warmth pooling in her belly.
