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“What if I courted you? Would that be acceptable?”

Caroline’s expression crumpled. Had she been upset about leaving all along, if her emotions were this near the surface?

“Please trust me when I say you do not wish to pursue me. I am not worthy, William.”

He rubbed a hand over his chin, searching for words. “I believe you are.”

She shook her head. “But I am not. You do not know what I have done.”

William’s interest sharpened. Her secret—was it a matter of guilt? Perhaps if he could coax it from her, he might help her see what he had learned the night before: that blessings and burdens could exist together. She had saved him from the darkness. Could he not do the same for her?

“Please, come sit with me?”

She returned to his side, sitting heavily. “If I could, I would stay, William.”

“Then tell me—why do you feel you are unworthy of my attention? Perhaps, once it is spoken aloud, it will no longer seem so insurmountable.”

Her hands came together in agitation. “If I tell you what I did, I shall lose your regard—and I do not want that.”

He brought his hand over hers in quiet comfort. “Please, sunshine. There is nothing you could say to change my mind about you.”

Caroline’s shoulders shook as she swallowed a sob. “It was unforgivable.”

“Nothing is unforgivable, if one seeks to make amends.”

“There is no way to fix what I have done.”

William tugged on his beard, his thoughts turning. “Regardless, it cannot alter how I feel about the woman who cared for me on Christmas Eve.”

Her head lifted, her eyes locking with his. The torment in them struck him hard, but he met it with unwavering calm, lifting his hand to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

She was so achingly beautiful. He had to be strong—if he wanted her to be free of the past, she needed to see herself through his eyes.

“When I was thirteen, my grandmother died. She was my only living relation.”

William nodded, his chest tightening. She had been only a little older than he was when his own parents died—only he had Uncle Albert. She had had no one.

“Mrs. Harris had known my grandmother and promised me a position when the time came. So I went to work at Baydon Hall, where she was the housekeeper.” She paused, so William stroked her cheek to encourage her.

“Miss Annabel was the daughter of a baron. She was younger than I but took me under her wing. She taught me to read, helped with numbers. When she saw how skilled I was with a needle, she gave me fabrics. She even convinced Mrs. Harris to apprentice me. We spoke of me opening a dress shop one day—and she vowed to invest her pin money in it when she married.” Caroline’s voice broke.

William put an arm around her, drawing her gently in. “What did you do?”

Caroline buried her face in his shoulder. “The Earl of Saunton began courting Miss Annabel when she turned nineteen. Soon they were betrothed. He visited often and I—I frequently met him in secret.”

William held her tightly as she sobbed, stroking her back. “You blame yourself for behaving improperly?”

“Nay, William—for betraying my friend. Annabel gave me everything, and I deceived her.”

William tried to imagine himself in her place. If he had stolen Nellie from Charles … The guilt would have consumed him. He understood.

“What happened?”

“She caught us kissing in the stables.”

Gad!

“She gave me a reference. She had Mrs. Harris place me with a doctor’s household.”