He'd followed her the one time she hoped he wouldn't. She closed her eyes and lifted her face toward the rain as if that would bring her to her proper senses. Ruth's eyes shifted to his face, a face memorized and etched into her mind. She looked tortured. "I don't think I can be here anymore, sir," she said in a strangled voice. "Because... I..." she met his gaze, "I feel things for ye I ought not to. Tis better I go before I make a fool of us both." She shuddered, "It's for ye I feel so strongly, not another. I've admired ye for months now and it tortures me so. Because this is not allowed. I'm not supposed to want a man above me own station, it's not proper, let alone me employer. I've been warned and scolded, and I promised me mother I would sooner die than bring more shame upon me family fer the way I feel. And I am married. I married a man who clearly loves himself and no other. And I'll be divorcin' him, and that will be scandalous too. All I do is cause scandal fer me feelins." There, it was now clear as to why she was so... overwrought.

"In any case, mayhap this is the sign I need ta be able to let ye go." And then she gave a humorless laugh and buried her face against her arms again. "Mayhap," her words were now muffled by the wet fabric of her gown, "I should tell the other Mister Blackwood I need ta seek employment elsewhere." But the thought of Jacob losing the only man who seemed worthy to be his father figure, well, that hurt too. "Ye deserve much better than the likes of me."