Ross could feel eyes upon his back, weighing slightly on his skin like a gentle caress. It was a feeling he had first identified during the war, having been watched by the Rebels through the Virginian trees. He identified the feeling now. It sent tingles along the planes of his back as if a piercingly cold wind was biting at his bare skin. And of course, his skin was completely bare as he bathed waist-deep in the clear Celtic sea.
Ross submerged himself under the water, soaking his hair and cleansing his skin of last night's "services". When he reemerged he could still feel the eyes of his watcher. Ross dove into the water, swimming breaststroke before turning on to his back so that he faced the shore. His dark eyes made a quick scan of the shoreline and then up to cliffs high above. It was there that he spotted it—a tuft of the deepest red-orange, a color much too exotic for the vegetation in Nampara—peeping out above the grass.
Demelza. He thought.
Ross swam breaststroke, hiding the smirk that tugged at his lips and concealing his body from the eyes of his young kitchen maid. As he swan, he mused about the previous morning when he had watched Demelza washing her hair:
She glared up to the window where Ross had stood. Her chest was heaving in exasperation and cold water was dripping down her neck.
"Satisfied?" she spat.
Ross was leaning on the window seal, chewing a bite of apple.
"Shouldn't I be?" he asked.
"It ain't enough not a' stink," Demezla railed, "A body must scrub herself raw as a buttock of beef to please some folk!"
Amused by the memory, Ross swam off behind the rocks, wondering whether his kitchen maid had watched him bathe for retaliation, or sheer female curiosity. Perhaps both.
When he next saw Demelza, she was putting breakfast on his table. By then, he was too distracted with his uncle's unexpected visit and his own affairs to pay her any mind. It wasn't until the next day, when he found her burdened by the loaded basket she carried, that he saw fit to address her needs.
A kitchen maid with no cloak! What sort of master am I to provide a house-servant with no livery?
When Demelza donned her first cloak, she beamed with such joy that each passerby drew mirth from her smile. Ross himself was too taken with her joy to remind her of the bucket of fish she was to carry. So, he carried the fish while he instructed his kitchen maid to purchase a garment more fitting of her station.
The dress was the color of honey with a fitted bodice, and for a moment, Ross had found himself a bit astonished at the sight of her. Her smile alone possessed the ability to catch an eye, but to see her out of those rags and in a garment more befitting her figure— Well, Ross realized how unlike a child she actually was. This realization was quite easily forgotten, however, when Demelza occupied the same room as Elizabeth...
Elizabeth had made an unexpected visit, and with her she'd risen his hopes. For a moment, Ross had become dazzled with the illusion of starting their love anew, but his hopes quickly diminished upon seeing Elizabeth's emotional reaction at nearly losing her husband. His illusion was obliterated altogether at the news that she was "with child".
Demelza walked in on Ross as he sat at the table, brooding over his foolishness. She reached for a pitcher and he reached for her arm.
"Do I have 'half-wit' branded across my forehead?" he asked as he let go of her.
Demelza looked down at Ross and replied, "No."
"Yet, I fell for it again," he confessed, "Built a castle out of winks and smiles—all the while. I should be grateful! What clearer proof is needed?"
Ross stood up from the table and left the room after instructing Demelza to fetch the others for work. He set-out to busy himself with his livelihood—his hopes of restoring the mine. For all his other hopes were dashed.
As the sun was going down, the fish he and Demelza had purchased from the market was finally cooked. Demelza served Ross a plate of food before he took a seat by the cliff and watched as his kitchen maid put another fish in the fire.
"You did well today." he told her as he reminisced on all that had transpired for her that day—Bargaining for fish, watching a duel, tending a wound, and...Elizabeth, "I can see how valuable you must be to your family."
Demelza stared at him for a moment, unsure of his meaning.
"Sur?" she questioned as she crossed the distance between them.
"And if you miss them, if you feel their need is greater than mine—"
"Ee be wantin' rid of me?" Demelza interrupted him.
Ross was taken aback as he saw the desperation on her fair face.
"What." he questioned.
It wasn't that he hadn't heard her, but instead that he couldn't believe what he had heard. Devotion. It was in her voice, in her tone.
"'Ee be wishin' me gone!" came her protest and Ross could do naught but stare at her in disbelief.
How could she not know how valuable she was?
"Sur, I'll work 'arder. I'll scrub an' scour an' fettle an'—"
"Demelza, your work is more than satisfactory." he reassured.
"Then, why sur?"
"I was merely offering you the chance to return to your home," Ross said as he met her gaze, "If that's where you feel you belong."
Demelza starred at the man who was seated before her and Ross gazed back at the girl who stood before him.
"I belong 'ere," she replied before sitting down beside him. Ross was in awe as he examined her and Demelza repeated her words again to affirm her conviction. "I belong 'ere."
Devotion. Ross gave a nod and smiled wistfully to himself. He had built a castle out of winks and smiles with Elizabeth, and it had all come crumbling down. As he sat with his kitchen maid, eating their meal side-by-side. Ross wondered: What could he build out of devotion and hard work with Demelza at his side?
He watched as the breeze blew her stray curls so prettily across her face. The same red-orange curls he had spotted above the cliffs as he had bathed in the sea. And for the second time, Ross Poldark saw how very unlike a child his kitchen maid actually was. No, not even like a girl. Demelza had grown into a woman right before his very eyes, and he had been too blinded to see it.