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Shelby approached the bed.

Yes, he pitied Mitchel, but even a sick man on his deathbed must face the consequences of his actions.

“No, you don’t deserve my forgiveness or hers, Mitchel. And you have no right to ask that of me. But as I have loved Roxina for almost as long as I’ve known her, caring for her is not an obligation. I welcome the opportunity to provide for her, and I pray that someday she honors me and allows me to make her my wife.”

Roxina gasped, bringing a hand to her throat. “Oh, Shelby.”

“Your sister is a far better person than you or I, Mitchel.” Shelby planted a hand on his hip. “She should have turned you away and treated you with the same contempt and lack of love and understanding that you always treated her with. But Roxina has a generous, kind soul.”

Mitchel gave a weak nod, his body wracked with a great, shuddering cough. With trembling effort, he pushed himself onto one elbow.

“Everything you say is true,” he rasped, his voice rough and strained. “And I know I don’t deserve it. But I can meet my Maker in peace if you would marry her before I die. It’s the least I can do… make sure her future is secure with a man who loves her.”

So, Mitchel realized the severity of his condition.

“No need to speak like that.” Paling, Roxina crossed and straightened the covers. “I intend to send for a physician. You’re just tired and undernourished. Bedrest and a few nutritious meals, and you’ll be right as rain.”

“If only that were true, dear sister.” Mitchel managed a fragile smile. He gave her hand a feeble pat, the only show of affection Shelby had ever witnessed Mitchel show Roxina.

Shelby would have spared Roxina this pain.

To be reunited with her wayward scapegrace of a brother, and have Mitchel finally show a small degree of consideration toward her, but only because Mitchel knew he would soon cock up his toes.

“Can you marry today?” Mitchel’s voice grew weaker with each word.

Shelby shook his head in disbelief. “I haven’t even proposed.”

This unromantic setting was certainly not where Shelby had imagined proposing to Roxina or exchanging marriage vows, but if it would ease her worry for her brother…

“However, if Roxina agrees to become my wife, then I shall travel to London and acquire a special license today.” Shelby sent Roxina a questioning glance.

Roxina frowned, three neat lines furrowing her forehead. “But a special license is expensive and almost impossible to acquire in one day.”

Perhaps, despite telling her brother he would recover, she understood the need for expediency. Or did she voice her concern because everything happened too fast?

Grinning, Shelby pulled his earlobe. “I might have forgotten to mention that your betrothed is a wealthy man. My ship literally came in ten days ago. That’s another reason I was delayed in coming to Blackheath—to you.”

“Oh.” Her eyes went wide with wonder. “I didn’t know you owned an interest in a cargo ship.”

“Nor did I,” Mitchel put in, his eyes narrowing in an all too familiar calculating consideration.

Did accusation temper Mitchel’s tone?

If so, he had a bloody nerve.

Shelby had his reasons for keeping his venture a secret. The former came from his determination to spare himself the sight of Roxina’s and others’ pity if his venture failed. The latter stemmed from his unyielding distrust of Mitchel Danforth.

He would sooner put his faith in Rufus Desmond or a high-seas pirate.

“I didn’t speak of the undertaking, in case the enterprise didn’t prove advantageous.” He winked at Roxina. “As for the special license, I’m positive that discreetly offering extra funds to the clerk handling the paperwork will encourage faster processing.”

Much could be accomplished with a well-placed bribe, even among the clergy.

And if the worse came to worse and the wedding ceremony could not take place for a day or two, then Mitchel had more time to beg his sister’s forgiveness.

Now, about that marriage proposal…

Mindful that her brother looked on and not caring a wit that Mitchel did, Shelby gathered Roxina into his arms.