A/N: Hi everyone! So this is my first Poldark fanfic, I hope you enjoy it! If you have the time to leave a review, I'd greatly appreciate it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Poldark.
Ross was not sure how long he had been laying there for. The wind began to pick up, blowing dusty mud in his face. Perhaps he deserved it. He glanced up at the cloudy sky, ignoring the throbbing pain underneath his right eye, and saw that it was early morning. Perhaps 6 or 7am, he thought.
He sat up presently, casting an ashamed glance towards his house, which sat in eerie silence. He rocked back and forth momentarily, debating his next move. His pounding heart pulled him towards the front door of his house, his head in the opposite direction. For once he relied on his head.
He leaped on his horse and shot out of the stables towards the clifftops. His mind was racing so much so that throughout the journey he had not heard the crashing of the waves, the howl of the wind or even indeed the sound of his own thumping heart. He was so distracted that he almost missed his destination, where he pulled roughly on the reins and ungracefully slid off Darkie. He stumbled frantically to the door and rapped it impatiently. He paced back and forth, about to strike the wood once again when the door slowly opened.
"Ross?" asked a confused Dwight, whose hair stuck out in all directions. "What are you doing here? Is something amiss?"
"May I come in?" he asked, pushing past the doctor before he could reply.
Ross paced back and forth trying to gather his thoughts. Dwight eyed him suspiciously before breaking the strained silence.
"Could you perhaps enlighten me as to what is going on?"
"Dwight I- I cannot begin to put it into words…"
"Try." he encouraged wearily, secretly rather annoyed his friend had barged in on the first day in months he had had no cause to wake up before the cockerels.
"Before I tell you, you must promise to not interrupt me until I am finished."
"You have my word." he promised.
Ross breathed deeply and cleared his throat before he began. "Last night I received a rather unsettling letter from Trenwith. So I went urgently in an attempt to rectify the problem, and in doing so I fear I have created many more in my own life."
"I'm not quite sure I follow…" Dwight admitted, his brows knitting together above his blue eyes.
"I stayed at Trenwith." He said, averting his gaze momentarily. When he realised his friend had not caught on to the significance of those words, he added quietly: "with Elizabeth."
A feeling of immense disappointment washed over Dwight Enys. He sat there, face to face with a man he'd known most of his life, and felt as if he were looking at a stranger. He simply could not fathom how a man so intelligent could be so unwise. He tried to come up with a suitable response. But he could not. He settled on: "Why?"
He listened as Ross launched into a desperate frenzy describing the details of the letter and his actions. He only caught some mention of George Warleggan and Elizabeth and marriage, as he had stopped listening when his friend tried to justify his actions.
When Ross breathlessly came to the end of his ramblings, he looked pleadingly at Dwight for some advice. For once, Dwight had no advice to give. He pondered trying to comfort his desperate friend with a lie, but decided on the truth.
"You dammed fool, Ross Poldark."
"What can I do?" he asked, distressed. In many ways his best friend's words had hurt him more than Demelza's strike ever could.
"How am I to know? I have no wife on which-" he paused, swallowing hard. "-to base my knowledge on." He sighed deeply, wishing he could help his reckless friend. A few minutes passed where they both sat in silence, thinking.
Presently Dwight looked up at Ross. "Beg." he offered. "Plead. Grovel. Pray. Drown her in gifts. In affection. Show her you still care for her... That is, if you still do."
"Of course I do!" Ross asserted.
"Then what are you still doing here? Go to Demelza!"
With that Ross leaped out of his chair, racing towards the door and ripping it open. He was halfway out the door when he hastily added over his shoulder: "thanks, Dwight! I am indebted to you!"
Dwight rolled his eyes and watched his childhood friend fumble onto his loyal horse.
Once Ross had entirely vacated the premises, Dwight let out a long exasperated sigh. One day he feared that Ross Vennor Poldark would make an error of judgement so great that there could be no possible return from it. He prayed today would not be that day.