T ears streamed down Caroline Brown’s cheeks as she packed her valise and a small trunk provided by Mrs. Harris.
She was leaving Baydon Hall, the only true home she had ever known, for a new position in the local doctor's household that Mrs. Harris had arranged for her. Yet she did not deserve the post.
I deserve to be thrown out of the manor, without any assistance, for what I have done.
Regret and shame warred in her chest, which felt too small and tight to contain the emotions threatening to brim over.
It is all my fault.
She had lost her home, her friends, and her self-respect, and for what? For a few stolen kisses in a nobleman’s arms. So desperate for attention, she had succumbed to temptation and betrayed a dear friend.
Three days earlier, Miss Annabel Ridley, the daughter of the baron at Baydon Hall, had caught her in an embrace with the lady’s betrothed, the Earl of Saunton, in the stables.
Lord Saunton had failed to defend her, and the young miss had been rightfully enraged, unwilling to see or speak to Caroline.
Nevertheless, Miss Annabel had seen fit to provide her with a reference for her position as a maid and bade Mrs. Harris, the housekeeper, find her employment elsewhere.
It was very generous, given the circumstances, but Miss Annabel had always been kind.
As a girl, Miss Annabel had taught Caroline to read and bestowed gifts of fabric, ribbons, and thread on her birthday each year to encourage her interest in sewing.
Now, despite the horrendous deceit, Miss Annabel had assisted Caroline with her future position.
But the young mistress of Baydon Hall was furious and distraught. She had instructed that Caroline remain out of sight in the kitchens and leave the estate as quickly as possible.
The unexpected generosity added to Caroline’s crushing guilt. She wished she could plead for forgiveness, to assure Miss Annabel that she had seen the error of her ways and wished to make amends for betraying their friendship, which had meant so much to her. But she had no amends to offer.
I am a dishonorable woman.
Worse, she was a disloyal friend, undeserving of the help she was receiving.
Her grandmother would turn in her grave to hear how Caroline had thrown away the opportunity afforded her by the old woman’s friendship with Mrs. Harris.
One of her last acts before dying had been to write to the housekeeper to request her help with the then-thirteen-year-old Caroline, who was about to lose her last living relation.
Mrs. Harris had offered employment as a favor to her old friend, and Caroline had been summoned into service at Baydon Hall.
Since Grandmama had died, the servants, along with Miss Annabel, were Caroline’s only family. She had let all of them down, and in doing so, had ruined Miss Annabel’s happiness.
A few tender words from a handsome nobleman, and compliments to her figure, and Caroline had allowed herself to be lured into a series of impassioned kisses with a rogue. Fresh sobs tore through her chest, despair a physical pain. How would she ever forgive herself for what she had done?