She felt the heat of chagrin reddening her face. She had just... confessed her feelings after being warned not to by her mother, even. But not speaking up was torture. She'd been punishing herself for her choices and now she could add to that with putting her foot in her mouth. As soon as they were finally back in the house -- the walk not being terribly long but seeming longer right now with the different things she'd said. She couldn't even look at him as she picked up the pace and fled the scene, rushing away toward her room. Hell, she wasn't even sure if she could meet him for tea after all of that.

But then as she sat in dry underthings, using linen to squeeze the moisture from her hair, she knew she owed him the tea he offered. Of course, she would take her time to get dressed again, but right now, her fingers shook, not with cold but the fact that she hard started crying again, damn it all. She didn't want to leave, that was the worst part of all...

She finally emerged from her room after putting on her plainest frock, the one that swallowed her up. She wanted to hide within the confines of the voluminous fabric, the very gown she wore the day she arrived, heavy with pregnancy. Assuming he had gone to the library where they usually shared tea and supper, that was where she headed. Soon, she crossed the threshold into what had become a beacon of memories. She sat in her usual place.

"Ah, Ruth there you are. I was worried you wouldn't come."

Edward smiled at her gently as she entered and took a seat. He wasn't quite sure what to say so he fussed with the mug on the tea tray for several long moments. Getting his cup just right before he was forced to stand and settle down in his chair.

"So, I'll admit. Your confession was rather unexpected. I had not given any thought to the potential of romance with anyone, I'll be honest I am not sure if I am emotionally ready for such a thing. Even if I was, I am unsure if I would feel that way about you. You are a lovely young woman, I find your company agreeable, and I do adore young Jacob so I suppose it isn't outside the realm of possibility. But it really is impossible for me to say. With that in mind, if you would rather take on work elsewhere I am sure we can arrange something for you to make sure you and your son are taken care of."

In all honesty, he didn't want to see Ruth leave but it would be selfish of him to insist she stay, not when he wasn't sure he could reciprocate her feelings and he wasn't sure if she would willing to simply let them go. He felt quite out of sorts and for the first time in a long time, he wasn't feeling melancholy. Rather he was quite worried about his present situation and how it might turn out.

She didn't look at him still, she just sort of collected the tea cup where the liquid was now a little less warm an a lot closer to tepid than she would prefer, but it was her own fault for her taking the time she did to try and calm herself down. "It doesn't matter how ye feel about me," she said, her voice kind of half whisper and hoarse. "I should have kept me mouth shut. I should not have been inappropriate with ye, sir. And it's also not a matter of desire. I don't wish to leave. Leaving here, where everyone made me feel like family... I don't know. Me ma and da have a full house and I just cannot go back there... Besides, I think me brother needs ma more right now." She gave a thick sniffle.

Ruth did finally look up, but she looked over his shoulder toward the couch where she had let him cry on her shoulder. "I have no business in yer life at all," she whispered. "I came here ta get out o' the rain and ta offer me services since I'd not had me own income, and somehow it became a mess. Ma was right, I shouldn't have spoken to anyone about me feelins' toward ye, least of all ye."

She quickly dashed an annoying tear away, angry with herself that the tears were flowing despite the fact she was already cried out. "I don't want to go at all, but staying? I dunno if I can handle stayin' when it's not some infatuation. Ye don't know just how much I've wished, especially as of late, ye would see me as someone who deserves ye." And then she slowly pushed herself up, leaving her cup untouched other than the initial fidgets. She moved to the clock, the one he'd been so taken by, now ticking away as if having counted the hours in which she tried to pull him out of his funk. She touched the side of it, and then her thumb traced the workmanship. She sighed and then shook her head. She wanted to shatter the clock into a million pieces just to watch him fix it again because he was so alive when he was doing what fascinated him. She refrained.

"I have no business," she went on, "Not now, not ever. Especially not when I'm still married to Angus, especially when his child will soon be considered a bastard since Angus won't legally be wed ta me, especially since ye're still grievin', and especially since I am yer maid and not a woman of means or class." She gave a shrug. "I'm sorry I made ye uncomfortable." With that, she started for the door since she wasn't sure she could handle whatever he had to say next. Yet part of her wanted him to drive home that it was impossible. Perhaps then she could let him go fully.

"I think... That we are facing a difference in culture between American values and British."

Edward said slowly when she finished explaining what she was going through. He got up and made his way to cut her off before she could exit the room. His expression was thoughtful more than anything else and he gestured toward the chair she'd just exited.

"Please, sit. I think this requires more discussion."

The man would wait for her to comply before he settled back down himself. He'd draw in a slow breath and rub at the bridge of his nose.

"To begin with, I won't deny that there is a level of classism in America but it is not the extent you see in Britain. My family is not old nobility, my father was born poor and through hard work and no small amount of luck he amassed a fortune. That gives a slightly different view when it comes to relationships between classes and, from my point of view at least, there is no question of your worth or if you deserve me. You are a bright, hardworking, and steadfast young woman who has persevered through considerable hardships. So far as I am concerned it is not a question of if you deserve a man, but rather if a man deserves you. So please stop selling yourself short."

The words were said with an earnest sincerity, it was clear that Edward didn't care for the way she was putting herself down.

"As for making me uncomfortable, you did not do so. I'll admit, I am a bit surprised by the revelation but it doesn't make me uncomfortable. Honestly, I am more taken aback than anything. I do not consider myself as being a person anyone would or should be interested in, in a romantic sense. I am damaged goods, to put it mildly."

He wasn't letting her off so easily it seemed. She sat obediently, not looking at him. "Ye're still a different class, ye have money and power in this world. I am from a workin' class family, I eloped with a man who didn't love me, and I have a child he never wanted until he discovered Jacob was a boy." She sat up straight and then flicked her eyes at him when he started to talk about how he didn't deserve anyone.

She tightened her lips for a moment, some emotion she wasn't sure she was familiar with toward him, a surge of... protectiveness, perhaps? She waited until he was done speaking and said in her soft voice, "Ye blame yerself for somethin' ye couldn't have predicted ta happen. Ye don't deserve yer self imposed imprisonment, Edward, and ye certainly are worthy of love. I see it in me boy's eyes every time he looks at ye, he loves ye. Yer brother loves ye. Yer staff love ye. We all love ye. Nothin' ye have done since I've known ye warrants ye bein' punished fer an accident. Do ye not understand I've come ta eat with ye every day and ye're slowly comin' back ta the world? I've been here fer ye since I was allowed in yer life and I've watched ye light up when ye are with us. She leaned forward and pressed her hand to his, her eyes searching his earnestly.

"And the reason I've loved ye is because every time I see ye light up, it's because ye heard -me-. Ye listened to me. Ye talked with me. Ye've only ever enriched me since the day I came here. I bet ye if I went ta tell yer brother I was leavin', he'd jump to yer defense and try and keep me on simply fer the fact he loves ye that much that he fears losin' ye because I'm coaxing ye out o' yerself. Do ye not understand how love works? Yes, love is grieving, but ye deserve ta love happily again and I don't wish ta ever hear ye say ye're not worthy again." Her cheeks were red by that point, she said this all in a slightly heated manner, passionately so.

Edward looked at Ruth, his expression one of shock at how she'd just expressed herself. She had repeatedly taken him aback and this most recent revelation had certainly struck a chord with him as his expression grew thoughtful. Guilt was not a logical emotion and her words hadn't changed what he felt but he was, at his core, a logical man. So even if she couldn't slay his guilt with naught but words, she could make him see logic when it was presented and he could not deny the logic of what she'd said.

"I... That was very well put Ruth,"

While he had opened his mouth to reply with more than just that, he found himself struggling to think of what to say. She made an excellent point in many ways. There was some arguments he could make to counter some of it. But ultimately he wasn't unaware that what had occurred had been an accident. He wished he could go back in time and never experimented with such dangerous things in his own home, he had been aware of the risk, but it wasn't as though he'd caused the fire on purpose and he'd taken at the time what he'd thought had been sufficient safety precautions.

"I will think about what you've said. For now, I would appreciate it if you did not tender your resignation over this matter. But you are ultimately allowed to do what you think is best. I will let you retire for the evening."

She looked at him silently as he offered the out she no longer wanted to take. She sat there for a moment, looked toward the door for a moment and then back at him. She was calm now, he knew, he was aware of her feelings and how she looked at him. "Nay, I would rather sit with ye if... if ye're not opposed." She was aware of the fact then that she was still touching his hand. She liked touching his hand. She reluctantly pulled it away, not wanting to force him into feeling what he wasn't ready for.

Ruth sighed and said softly, "I would be runnin' away if I left now. Ye've already heard me speak me truth, I couldn't have been so honest wit' anyone else. I couldn't go if I wanted. Away from here, I mean. To be honest, it'd break me heart ta leave me friends. I've ne'er felt so accepted as I have here." And with that, she sat back and lapsed into silence, her gaze remaining on him.

"If you wish, I can't promise to be particularly good company. You've given me much to consider."

Edward said the man was too kind to turn her out even if she was what he was currently considering. He wasn't sure how to deal with her feelings, it sounded like she had far more than a crush on him and he didn't doubt her sincerity in that. Logically, he knew that their age gap wasn't that large by the standards of the day though it felt like a gulf he would struggle to overcome. He felt spent, worn out, not suited to the rigours of a relationship or raising a child. Yet, when he had the chance to care for young Jacob he couldn't deny he felt some measure of energy return to him. But that in and of itself wasn't sufficient reason to court the boy's mother.

"You would be sorely missed if you left, so it would be best you not run away."

Even as he said it he caught her looking at him, he didn't hold her gaze instead returning it to his cup. How did he feel about Ruth? He certainly liked the young woman, she was pleasant company, patient and tender when needed, vulnerable and hurt in her own way, but possessed of a strength that was commendable, especially in the face of her ordeals. He had affection for her but that wasn't love, but could it become love? He wasn't sure, perhaps in time if he was open to it which she seemed to think he should be. That he deserved to forgive himself and move on but could he?

She spent a few more minutes watching him. She had always seemed to wear her heart on her sleeve when it came to him, but she supposed she should put it back where it belonged, bruised and battered that it was. She folded her legs under her, looking now at the hearth as she thought about things. Then she thought about something and she murmured, "I would ne'er force ye to be wit' me if it's not somethin' ye desired. As hard as unrequited love is, at least ye now know the truth o' it from me, and I don't have ta pretend. But that isn't me askin ye to take a chance on me. I know how it works all too well."

Ruth then stood and moved over to the nearest shelf of books, her fingers grazing over a spine as she took in the smell of books. That is what he smelled like somewhat... Books. "Let me tell ye why I think ye deserve ta be happy," she said so softly that he probably had to strain to hear it, "Ye're the kindest person I've ever met and ye impact more people than ye ken. Ye're smart... brilliant, really... ye fascinate me." She turned to glance toward him only briefly that time, "But nobody is here ta force ye to feel what ye're not ready to feel, only to hope that one day, ye can be with the world again and just... live again. That's all everyone here wants, ye know? Ta see ye, not as a shell o' a man, but as complete as ye can be given the circumstances. Mourn your family, but don't hide within yerself anymore." And then she finally turned toward the door.

And then she said one last thing, paused at the threshold, "Love means bein' happy fer someone else even if they don't love ye back." She gave a sad smile and then was gone.

------------------------------------

The next day, she took to rest as she was instructed. Lord, she was so tired. She wasn't feeling ill or anything, she was just worn out. Soon enough, she pulled on the new clothing she had finally purchased for herself. It was a clean blouse and a long, hunter green skirt. She put her hair up in one of those high buns, pinning her hair just so. She left her room once dressed, Jacob on her hip. She went out to the garden again to be alone with her son, stopping long enough to get some cheese, bread, and an apple or two and wrapping it in waxed paper as opposed to getting a whole basket.

She wasn't planning on visiting Edward at the moment, though he could easily find her if he wanted to. She picked a spot under a tree, spreading one of her quilts on the ground and setting the boy down on his tummy, sitting down with her back against the trunk. She ate in silence as Jacob played with his rattle, and soon found herself dozing. Jacob soon moved in for cuddles and the two of them were soon asleep in the shade dappled sunlight.

"Thank you, Ruth."

Edward said to the young woman before she left. All that she had said held the ring of truth to it, the advice was well-meaning and delivered in earnest. It was of the sort where he wished it was an easy thing to ally the mind with the heart. As it stood he stayed in his room long into the night, his thoughts running in circles until sleep finally overcame him. For the first time in a long while, he found that his sleep was peaceful and undisturbed by dreams.

The following morning he found himself feeling more energized than he had in quite some time. Not the manic energy that occasionally possessed him when some new idea for an experiment took him, but the energy of a man who was prepared to face the day. He bathed, shaved, and dressed himself. When he was finished he looked into the mirror and frowned at what he saw.

Ruth's words flashed through his mind once again and he remembered what his last thoughts had been before sleep had claimed him. It had been what she had said but not her voice, it had been in the voice of his departed wife. He'd realized something by running in circles, that this was not what she would have wanted for him. That Ruth had said what his wife would have said if she'd found him in that state and that... It didn't change things entirely, he still felt the loss like an aching hole in his heart. But the guilt had eased, it no longer added a knife to the ache that kept the hole from healing. He was not yet better, but for the first time, he thought there was a chance he might actually be able to move on.

With that thought, he called for Mister Lane and he asked the butler to arrange something. The man was surprised but he made arrangements and by the early afternoon, for the first time in more than a year, Edward's hair was cut. The long mass of unruly curls was trimmed back short and neat. Combined with him having shaved he looked nearly like a new man as he decided to head out into the garden for some fresh air to fortify himself.