She had been bid to stop working, not just because of her vroken hand but because the servants seemed to happily helped to facilitate the relationship. She was bored without work and she took to wandering the garden. Nobody stopped her from finding joy in gardening. She was given a pair of gloves but only used the one for it's first forray. She was kneeling in the grass, her good hand, sans the glove, touched the earth, finding peace in the quiet solitude.

"Ah, Ruth, there you are."

Edward's voice cut through the air as he walked up to her. He was dressed down, just a white dress shirt to go with his plain leggings.

"I'm glad you finally agreed to take a furlough to let your wrist heal."

He'd just been informed that she'd capitulated to the collective concern.