Her voice caught, the tang of guilt residing in her broken syllables. “There is something else you should know.”
He regarded her carefully. Quiet, unobtrusive Bitt. When had she grown into such a stubborn creature? “Yes?”
Her fingers knotted in the folds of her dress. “I did not only tell Wrottesley I’m betrothed to you. My parents believe it, as well.”
“You lied.” His jaw hardened. Every tendon in his neck tightened. This explained her sudden appearance at his door. She’d dug a hole and expected him to rescue her from its trap.
“No, I have simply changed my mind. I hoped your offer might still stand. I—I promise to be a good wife, Miles. If you will only understand that I did not know the repercussions when I rejected your kind offer. Although I hoped to marry for love, that is no longer an option.”
Mouth dry, he said, “Anastasia was unhappy married to me.”
So much so that she took her own life. But he could not utter that terrible truth. Could hardly bear to remember the depths of misery she’d endured in their relationship. Marrying for love, as he’d learned, was a foolhardy reason for what essentially amounted to a contract.
“I do not know the truth of your words,” Bitt said quietly, “but I would rather be unhappy with you, a man who sees past my visage and cares for my soul, than unhappy with one who would empty my pocketbook and treat me with cruelty.” The sounds of her parents’ arrival in the hall filtered to them. She lowered her eyes, knotting her fingers. “They shall be in here in a moment and if you can find it within yourself to marry me, then I will proudly take your name.”
Miles studied her. Surely she lied to herself, whether or not she knew it, but he owed John a great deal, and if he married Bitt, his debt would be paid. No doubt her parents would demand he marry her, as well. Especially since she’d rejected Wrottesley. He blamed her not at all for such a decision.
He could not forget his own part in her situation either. Had he pressured her to take a companion with her, Wrottesley would have not found her vulnerable. What a mess he’d gotten himself into. John was right. There was only one acceptable solution to this situation.
He expelled an uneven breath. “It will be a marriage of convenience. A business contract. No more or less.”
“I understand. I take that to mean that...well...that there will be no wedding kiss?”
He understood her question. He remained silent at the hesitant inquiry. By offering her a marriage of convenience, he would save her reputation and yet steal her chance for the intimate love of a husband and wife. Let alone the experience of a first kiss.
“Forgive me,” she rushed on, before he could respond. “I will not ask such assurances from you. It is enough that my family shall remain in good standing.”
He nodded slowly. “If you recall, I mentioned certain stipulations. I need to be certain that you can be moderately happy married to me.”
Miles did not care for the strain on Bitt’s face, but it had occurred to him that if their marriage was to have any success, he should test their compatibility. Make certain she could fulfill the duties of a gentleman’s wife. Nothing strenuous, just enough to set his mind at ease. After all, he was about to be shackled for life. Not his idea of a happy ending, but he could not leave his childhood friend in distress.
He waited for her to respond, every muscle tight and clenched.
Footsteps pounded down the hall. Bitt’s parents appeared in the doorway. Her father’s face wore somber lines as he advanced into the office. “Is it true, Hawthorne? Are you set to marry my daughter?”
Bitt looked at him, a mix of fear and desperation plastered on her features. She gave him a slow nod, and he knew that she had accepted his terms without even knowing them.
A stiff foreboding crawled down Miles’s spine. He bowed crisply. “Forgive me, Lord Dunlop. I meant to speak with you sooner. If you will allow so, I shall marry your daughter.”
* * *
“Why, Miles, this is positively insulting.” Elizabeth scanned the paper he handed to her. Ensconced in his barouche, they were to discuss the “business” of marriage while taking a trip to Gunter’s for ices.
It was all very tedious and though she did enjoy sweets, she’d much rather be curled up on her bed with a good book than sitting in this rig, looking at a list of tasks she must accomplish in order to be considered suitable for marriage. How like Miles to create a list. So very methodical. She found the entire business humbling, for he was changing his life to accommodate her. She worked hard to squelch the irritation throbbing within.
“You agreed to this arrangement,” he said, his voice unusually hard.
Wincing, Elizabeth dipped her head in concession. “Quite right. I did. Though may I remind you that I was under a great deal of pressure at the time? Is this truly necessary? A house party? To celebrate our betrothal? That is farcical.”
“You and I will have a marriage of convenience. Nothing more.”
A pang hit Elizabeth square in the ribs. Indigestion, no doubt, brought on by the stress of her future being destroyed. She peered at the paper more closely, attempting to decipher his scrawl whilst acknowledging the terrible fact that due to her own irresponsible actions, she had given up her dreams of true love forever. A surreal realization, to be sure.
“Instead of writing what you want from me in overwrought detail, you could have simply told me.” She handed the paper to him, thankful her fingers did not tremble. She had not slept well last night, strange dreams troubling her sleep. “Am I to understand that you ask only three things of me?”
“That is correct.” He steepled his fingers, his face dark and brooding. “Are you certain you can do what I’ve asked?”
“I said that I would.” She drew an unsteady breath. Miles had been backed into a corner. He had done an honorable deed, one she should be thankful for. It was her duty to make this as painless for him as possible. “Visiting your new factory shan’t be an issue, I’m sure. But planning a betrothal ball is a bit excessive. And I confess I fail to see why I should visit Vauxhall Gardens with you, as well. These are odd and unlikely requests. They will not make me a better wife.” The very thought filled her with dread. Her shoulders slumped. She could never measure up to Anastasia.
How could a homely caterpillar ever compare to a fragile, colorful butterfly?
He held up a hand. “Familiarity with my business and associating with others in social settings is something you may be called upon to do. If you can’t handle these situations gracefully, it is better to know now, before we are bound for life.”
Elizabeth didn’t dare look at Miles. When he’d picked her up this morning, she’d felt the darkness of his demeanor. He was in a mood, to be sure, and it did not reassure her of their upcoming nuptials. It was no surprise that marrying her brought him great irritation. If she had any other option, she would not have accepted his reluctant proposal.
The thought sparked her temper. “If marrying me is such a daunting task, why did you ever ask in the first place? I did not compel you to act the honor-bound gentleman.” She dared not go so far as to offer to back out of the nuptials.
“I
