He well knew how love brought pain. He frowned. He did not wish to see Elizabeth today, but he could think of no reason for her to be at his house, alone, except for some unexpected predicament.
Had she changed her mind? Panic shot through him. He prayed not.
He found her pacing his library, hands wringing and dress fluttering with the force of her walk. Her hair escaped in disorganized ringlets around her cheeks, and when he entered her gaze flew to his.
“Miles,” she breathed.
He hardened himself against the relief so clearly etched on her face. Perhaps his pride still rankled from her cold dismissal. “Lady Elizabeth, won’t you have a seat?”
Surprise fluttered across her face. Perhaps she’d expected a less formal greeting.
“I cannot sit. Something dreadful has happened. My hand is being forced, you see, and I said what I had to but now... I’m truly at my wit’s end. I know not what to do. I pray you forgive me.”
He did not move from his position in the doorway. What was happening here? Fingering his cravat, he gave her a questioning look. “Surely things are not so terrible.”
“Oh, but they are.” She stooped and plucked a paper from the chair. Marching to him, she held it in front of his face. The words blurred without his spectacles, which he’d left at his desk.
“What is it?” he said irritably.
“That article. They are referencing me.” She lowered the morning rag. “It’s still the gossip this morning, though there is no more mention of a factory owner. There is simply the implication that I...” Her face blanched. “Behaved inappropriately. They do not go so far as to write something to my complete ruination, but a betrothal is the only option to fix this, for if it continues as a topic of conversation, or widespread rumor, then I could very well be ruined and throw my family into the worst sort of scandal.”
“Did you not say you cared ‘not a whit’ about your family’s standing?”
Elizabeth wrinkled her face. “Empty words. I wish I had not uttered them.” She drew a deep breath, looking down at his feet. “Lord Wrottesley has offered marriage, and my parents would have me accept.”
Miles’s spine went rigid. He held up a hand, stopping her midspeech. “The same man who so cruelly mauled you and caused this fiasco?”
Bitt flushed. “Do not repeat this, please, but I believe he may be the one behind the rumors. They are too expedient. I cannot marry him, Miles. I dare not.”
“After what he did to you? Do your parents know?”
Her blush deepened. “I told Mother, but she feels I brought his behavior upon myself. I will say that he was a gentleman in the library, in the presence of my parents. I told him I could not marry him. That I was not at liberty to do so.”
“At the risk of ruining your family?”
“Not quite.” Her eyes, a startling crystal blue, shone in the morning light streaming through his library windows. “I know you believe me spoiled and selfish and that I care nothing for my family’s standing, but you are mistaken.”
“Bitt.” A lump rose to his throat. “I do not think those things of you.”
She smiled, but it was halfhearted and sent a pang through him. “Nonsense. You said as much the other day. My concern for my family is precisely the reason I am here this morn.”
He waited, knowing her well enough to trust that she’d circle to her purpose at her own leisure.
“I was hoping your proposal still stands,” she said.
Miles couldn’t control the shock that pierced him.
Bitt walked to him and placed a hand on his sleeve. “When Lord Wrottesley arrived today, I knew I would do anything to avoid being joined to that odious toad. So I told him we were betrothed.”
Shocked by her words, he wrenched away from her and glanced out the study door. There were no servants to be seen. “You were adamant you’d never marry me. Yet now, in a moment of desperation, you have changed your mind?” A curious hurt resided in his chest. From whence it came, he knew not, but nevertheless it was there, a heavy pressure beneath his sternum that turned his stomach sour.
Why did he care? He did not want marriage.
Bitt winced. “My hasty words hurt you. I see that now. It is simply that I never thought to find myself in this predicament. I felt that I would never marry in order to appease my family’s need for good standing, but now that the moment has come and I have seen the pain I would cause, I cannot bear to be the author of such scandal.”
Miles walked to the window and peered outside. His view faced the street. A carriage pulled to the curb. He recognized the crest as Dunlop’s. “Your parents have arrived.”
Bitt’s silence weighed on him. He knew she wanted him to renew his offer, to ignore her earlier rejection of him and pretend that they could move forward. They very well could marry. He knew that. He also knew he would fail her, just as he had Anastasia. Then again, a marriage of convenience was different than what he and his deceased wife had shared. Their relationship had begun with him already mired in the pit of love.
Or infatuation.
Whatever it had been, once married, reality had set in for both of them. Perhaps he needn’t worry about that with Bitt. Swiveling, he took in her unkempt hair, her begging eyes and nervous fingers. He remembered her laughter in childhood, followed by somber silences. And that day he’d heard her sobbing...
If he married her, she’d have his protection. No one would dare mock her or make her feel ugly. But she’d told him that she only wanted to marry for love. And that was the one thing he could not give her.
“Miles.” 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