Autumn had fallen upon the fair, or rather shall we say struggling, the town of Cornwall. The season was not kind to the poor, or even to the rich. Storm after storm plagued the people of Cornwall for weeks. However, on this particular day only the mere wind blew about, and with it brought a new sort of people into the town. To most, these two would be as strangers, but to Demelza they were kin. Adam and Drake Carne did not follow in the footsteps of their ancestors to be miners, instead, their ambition fueled them to reach beyond that. Thus, they worked harder than any man to save the money and in time were able to establish a smelting company in Cornwall, despite the obvious conflict of the Warlaggen's.
Drake Carne was a simple man of eighteen with a pure ambition to build a better life for himself, his brother however held ambition that was not as pure. However, for the time being, Drake thought his brother to be as good as any other man. Traveling on horseback Drake followed the lead of his older brother to their new home. It was a small estate but would serve the brothers well for its purpose.
The sun was still high in the sky, though draped over with a canopy of thick clouds. Drake sat wearily on the saddle of his horse looking out in the distance of the ocean just off the side of the cliff which they traveled. His mind wandered from practical things, and in its place, a sort of work of fiction took hold in his thoughts.
"Brother, do you think I life could be made here? ... That is apart from business." He asked in his own deep wondrous thoughts.
Adam turned to look at his little brother, who was smiling widely and sighed.
"Yes, brother," he said dryly, "I do believe we will make a good life for us here." Adam returned his gaze to the sea and resumed his thoughts.
A short-lived smile swept across Drake's face for a short moment before his features faded back to a more serious expression. He then turned back to practical thought as they continued on their way. "So where is this home of ours? You've told me nothing about it other than the mere name of the town." Drake said with a bit of impatience. "What was it again? Cornwall?"
Adam didn't tear his eyes away from the far-reaching sea. "I have procured a good sized house on Ross Poldarks Land. Word is that a doctor used to live there. He is married now to a certain Caroline Penvenon, a rich mining heiress. We can make it work for the time being until we have enough money to purchase a house in Truro" Adam now looked at his brother and gave a smile.
"Ross Poldark?" He questioned, thinking over the name in his head. It had an air of familiarity to it.
"Is he not the same man who took in Demelza? I remember father going off about it once." Drake mentioned as they went along on their way, beginning to near the now vacant home.
"Yes," Adam answered, acknowledging his brother's question, "it is the same man. He is the one who married our dear elder sister some six years past. She is now Mistress Of Nampara house" Adam informed with a sideways smile on his face. He looked back in the direction of the sea and turned his thoughts back to what their next move should be. "The Poldarks are a powerful and prominent family."
He went on looking back to his brother. "Ross and Francis Poldark are cousins, they own several mines in these lands. All of which are in full working order. If we can persuade them to do business with us, I do believe it will boost the smelting works greatly. But I doubt it will take too long to convince them to sell their ore to us, for a fair price that is."
"Agreed" Drake said with a nod. "But we can not deny the bitter rift between us and our sister. There is a reason she wished not to return." Drake pointed out. "I don't know of all that she went through being so young, but I remember clearly that father was never kind."
"That man was never kind, even on his deathbed!"
Drake looked at his brother. Adam was two years older then he was and therefore felt the wrath of their father more often then Drake did. The many beatings and strapping had made Adam bitter and hard. He didn't love, or even like his father. Many times he had wanted to end him whenever he would beat him and his sister Demelza. Before she left to work at Nampara, and eventually marry the master of the house, Adam and his sister had a special bond. Being the eldest of the family, Demelza looked out for her brothers after their sweet mother died of consumption. And it was she who would more often than not, take the beatings for her brother.
"Well, either way, we need not trouble ourselves with the likes of him. Instead, I hope we may make amends with our sister." Drake pointed out from a more optimistic attitude.
In the distance, a small grey stone building caught Drake's attention as they came over a small hill. "That must be it there, Adam. That is to be our new home, correct?"
Adam focused his eyes on the object ahead.
"Not exactly," he said, "that is another home entirely. Our home, Alcove house, is further ahead."
They rode on a little more with every intention of passing the estate which Drake had pointed out. As they came near, Adam took notice of two women working in the garden along the left side of the stable. One was old and fat. She had on dirty clothes and an old cap which covered up her dark greasy unkempt hair. The other was young in years, no more than five and twenty. Tall thin and pretty with a fair complexion which made her green eyes stand out along with her red curls, which was pulled back at the sides. The younger of the two looked familiar, but Adam couldn't quite match her face with anyone from his past. In a gentlemanly manner, Adam tipped his tricorn hat to her as he and Drake passed. They rode on a little further before it hit him. That face! He now remembered to whom it belonged. Wheeling his steed around, he galloped back in the direction of the house.
Drake followed alongside his older brother expecting to simply move on. Unlike Adam, Drake hadn't noticed the women working, so when Adam turned back Drake was struck with confusion.
"Adam?" He called looking back as his brother made way towards the home which Adam had just recently dismissed.
"Where are you going?" He questioned turning around to follow after his older curious as to why his brother would feel the need to divert from their path.
Adam loomed up alongside the stone wall which surrounded the house and dismounted. He looked uncertain of himself as he took off his hat hastily and went through the wooden gate. Adam wandered around the barn and found the two women working quietly. He gazed for a moment so as to be certain before he approached closer.
"Excuse me, ma'am," he said catching the red-haired lady's attention, "but by any chance your name be Poldark? Demelza Poldark?"
Demelza looked up from the toils which had been previously occupying her attention. It was not until the man had called for her that she looked up. After so many years of being away from the life she once lived she did not recognize the two that stood before her now. Drake had in return not recognize the woman who his brother was now asking the name of. Though this woman vaguely brought back nostalgic memories of the past.
"Yes, 'tis I. Who might be asking?" Demelza said as she dried off her hands on her apron as she approached the two.
For the first time in a long time, a bright and happy smile came across Adams strong, sharp features. Drake couldn't remember seeing him this way before.
"Sister!" He exclaimed rushing to pull Demelza into a hug. "It has been so long." He said stopping himself from embracing her, knowing that she might not take it well. After all, they were as good as strangers to her. He stood a foot or two away, still holding his hat in his hands. Demelza looking at him in confusion.
"Do you not remember us?" He asked half saddened. "'Tis Adam and Drake!"
Startled and discombobulated, Demelza took a step back with a sour look on her face, but just as she was going to retaliate it struck her. These two were no strangers, and seeing them here made her almost speechless. Drake stood adjacent to his brother. He didn't know what to say exactly, after all, he hadn't seen Demelza in years.
"You two?" She asked with a bit of a smile. Despite her hard feelings towards her father, she loved her brothers, well at least the ones who were kind to her.
"What brings you to Cornwall?" She questioned curiously. "Last I saw of the two of you, you were mining for coal."
"Drake and I have started a smelting company." Adam began to explain to his sister, who was standing across from them listening very attentive to what he was about to say, "For years and years we saved every penny we had. Sometimes going without so much as a crust of bread in order to start our business. And a few months ago, we finally had enough to purchase the smelting works just outside of Truro." Adam smiled as he finished explaining the reason for their sudden appearance.
Standing and listening along to this story, Demelza thought it almost impossible. Yet, she knew her brothers well, Adam more so than Drake. Adam definitely had the ambition to accomplish such a feat, and Drake he was a good and hard worker to assist in such a task. So all in all Demelza believed her brother.
"Then I must congratulate the both of you," Demelza said as a smile came to her lips as she became more accustomed to the two who had only minutes ago seemed like strangers. "Wasn't easy neither when father was breathing down our neck for money when we first cooked up the idea," Drake mentioned remembering back to those days in the beginning.
The three siblings continued to talk and reacquaint with one another after so many years apart. They didn't notice as a young lady walked out of the house with a child on her arm. She was young, just shy of eighteen in years. Her rich brown eyes set against a fair, angelic complexion gave her a docile, yet commanding presence. Her tight, light brown, curly hair was drawn back into an updo with one lose curl hanging over her shoulder. She lifted the skirts of her peach dress so as not to drag it into the mud.
"Demelza," she said in a kind voice as she approached, "I am sorry. But Tea is ready in the library. And Ross is asking for you, he and Claude have just returned from the mine."
Drake, not being able to share as much in the conversation found himself otherwise distracted by the exterior of the house, that is until something else caught his eye. She was like an angel. Fair skin, dark hair, and the prettiest pair of eyes that he had ever seen. They were the eyes that let you see into the depth of the soul. He could hardly look away. Upon hearing her name being called Demelza looked back on Georgianna.
"Make up another two cups." She said looking back at her brothers "That is if the both of you have a moment to spare?"
"Of course!" Georgiana said with a nod of her head. "It would be my pleasure!" She looked to Demelza and smiled, then she turned to the two young men, whom she had not met yet, and curtsied before returning to the house. Drake's eyes unintentionally followed her as she walked back to the house. Halfway, she stopped for a moment, looked over her shoulder and smiled to him then resumed her walk again.
Adam looked at his brother curiously, and then his sister.
"Who is she?" He asked, knowing she had caught Drake's eye. She was a pretty thing, no doubt about that. And if she was in any way related to the Poldarks, then her acquaintance with them could prove useful. But the last thing Adam wanted was to have Drake's head turned by a girl when his mind should be focused on work and the smelting company.
"I can see that she has already turned someone's head!" He went on sarcastically to Drake, who had eyes on the empty doorway which moments before, Georgiana disappeared through.
"I know not of which you speak!" Drake replied in sarcasm looking back at his brother as a smile came across his face. He couldn't deny that she was beautiful, but he would deny his lingering gaze no matter how obvious it was.
"Tread carefully, brother. That is Georgiana Poldark, my sister-in-law. Ross and Claude won't be having you breaking her heart." Demelza warned with a ting of the same bit of sarcasm. "Now come on, Ross'll be wanting to meet the two of you soon enough." She said turning to the house.
The two brothers followed her with long strides in their walk. Adam laughed and teased Drake about the way he looked upon the young Poldark sister. Drake continued to vehemently deny that he was even paying attention to her at all.
They entered the house and were instantly greeted by Claude Poldark, still dressed in his mining clothes.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen!" He said extending his hand to Adam first. Adam hesitated before taking the other mans hand. He had never been greeted in such a manner before. Maybe it was the way they looked, for before departing for Cornwall, he and Drake, purchased new suits.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance!" Claude went on releasing his hand from Drakes grasp. "I don't believe I know your names?"
"It's Carne," Adam said. "Adam and Drake Carne. We are brothers of Demelza." He said introducing themselves. "You must be Ross Poldark."
"Heavens no!" Claude exclaimed. "The names Claude. My brother, Ross is in the library. Come!" He beckoned from the doorway. "I'll take you to him." Both brothers followed him in.
"Ross!" Claude called to his brother, who was looking over mining maps and documents. "These gentlemen are Demelza's brothers."
Ross now looked from his work and looked to his brother and then the two men standing adjacent to him.
"They mean to start up a smelting company in Truro," Demelza explained as she rejoined the group of everyone in the library. "Ambition sure struck the pair of you didn't it?"
Drake smiled with a nod of his head. "'Tis Adams idea in the beginning," he admitted. "Either way, working all these years did sure pay well in the end," Drake stated proudly. He had worked a variety of jobs over the years, and three at a time no matter what came. If there was anything to be known of Drake Carne, it was that he was hard and loyal worker come hell or high water.
Ross gave a nod and sauntered over to Demelza. "It's a please to meet you, gentlemen." He said placing an arm around Demelza's shoulder.
"A smelting company? That's a risky venture! Especially since you will be up against the Warleggans. I doubt George will take kindly to the competition. I, therefore, wish the best of luck in your venture!"
"As do I!" Georgiana said lookup her work and giving a smile to Drake before returning her attention to her work.
Drake, of course, returned the kind gesture and was sure not miss seeing her smile either. After all, he couldn't help but glance back at her when he thought no one was looking. But he eventually clued back into the conversation to avoid being to obviously preoccupied. "Warleggan's? So they are those wealthy business owners we have been warned about?" Drake questioned looking to his brother for confirmation.
"Yes, they are the ones," Adam answered before taking a sip of his drink. They continued in their conversations.
"Where will you gentlemen be staying?" Ross asked picking Jeremy up, who was sitting at his feet.
"At Alcove House. We are the ones renting the cottage from you." Adam explained finishing his tea and setting his cup down on the table.
"Ahh!" Ross exhaled. "The new tenants. I look forward to doing business with you!" He added with a chuckle.
"Well, gentlemen!" Claude announced from the doorway, all fitted out in his best riding clothes. "I'm off. I shall see you at supper."
Ross set his son down on the floor again. "And what exactly, are these secret meetings which require so much of your attention of late?" Ross asked calling his brother back.
Claude stopped and smiled looking to the ground. "If I told you, Ross," he said looking up with lightheartedness. "It wouldn't be much of a secret." Ross gave a nod, not very pleased with his brothers answer. "I shall return before dusk sets." He said closing the door behind him.
"Late evening getaways? And secret keeping? Staying around her just might be more interesting than anticipated." Drake said with a lighthearted joking manner. After all, he only meant to in jest and not to be taken seriously.
On the other side of town, more specifically from the likes of Warleggan estate, a certain young lady took the carriage into town to the dressmakers. Though of course, she had no intention of buying a dress. Rather her intentions were set in a different meeting entirely.
Claude rode in the direction of Truro, content with the wind that blew on and around him. There should be no sight more lovely than a young man riding to meet his love. His lips should sing, the clouds should dance, and the ocean should be turned to pure gold. And for Master Claude Poldark, such a thing was taking place. He was in love and was content and carefree in that loving bliss in which he was so deeply engulfed. Why he still hadn't told his brother, he didn't know. Surly Ross couldn't stop him! Even as head of the family, Ross held no power or whom Claude could and could not marry. Claude knew it, but fear still gripped his heart every time the thought of informing Ross came to mind. Ross had a powerful presence that demanded respect and sometimes fear. Though he was never unkind to anyone. Still, for the time being, Claude thought it best that this should remain a secret. He stopped at the crossroads and waited, suddenly anxious to see Miss Clementine Warleggan.
There was nothing more liberating than to love and be loved by another. Even with all the lavishes of a wealthy life, nothing could compare to the richness of love. So onwards she went on foot to the meeting place. That was of course only after she slipped out of the dressmakers and past those who had been ordered to keep an eye on her. George, after all, did not approve of her going out alone. He had little idea as to the reason of her going out, but either way, he thought it improper for a girl of her age to be traveling out alone. But, no such thing stopped her. Instead, she found other ways around the obstacles, even if it meant walking there on foot as she was doing now. Though soon enough she had finally arrived on the scene. A soft smile came to her lips seeing him there. It seemed like ages since they last met, and she had missed him dearly.
"Claude," she said making her way over to him. In times like these, there was no need for formalities.
Claude, who was sitting on the grass watching the world fly by, now rose to meet his love. They ran to each other's arms and embraced before sharing a lingering kiss.
"I've missed you, Clementine." He said looking at her softly. "I am growing tired of all this deception. Why can't we just tell them?"
Clementine's smile faded some at his offer. It seemed impossible to tell the rest of the world, especially their brothers. Their brothers would sooner have them put away then see them married.
"Do you remember that night at the ball when we first set eyes upon one another?" She asked changing the subject and avoiding his question altogether.
Claude said, "yes, I remember. It was at the Godolphin's Christmas party two years ago. We were both there alone." He said looking fondly to the past. "That's when I saw you standing alone across the ballroom." He smiled at the thought of it while taking her in his arms. He often recalled it as being the happiest night of his life. It was there he met Clementine. They danced and talked all night. For him, it was love at first sight.
Clementine smiled remembering the night as it had been the night before. "Little did you know, but if you hadn't asked me to dance then I surely would've been asked by Sir Hughes, whose reputation with my sex is less than appealing. But not only did you save me from a worse fate, you stole my heart."
He smiled and gave a soft laugh. "You and Sir Hughes?" He said to himself out loud. "That would not have been a pretty sight. I am only glad that I asked you to dance every dance with me that evening. If I didn't, I fear someone else would have you all them themselves." He kissed her again.
"Still I wish we could tell our brothers." He said turning back to the original subject of their conversation. "Surely they have no right to tell us whom we may and may not marry! I am twenty-one years old, and you are eighteen, we have every right to make such decisions for ourselves!"
"Maybe for you. As a man, you have more liberty. Unlike you, my brother has every right to marry me off to whomever he wishes." She started stepping back from his grasp for a moment. "Being of age now, there is nothing stopping him from doing such now." She said with a sort of hidden fear in her voice.
After all, George was already planning to meet with suitors at the upcoming ball. She had not yet told Claude of any of it, she couldn't bear to. It was her worst fear to lose him.
A look of sadness came across Claude's features. It was true, she had little to no rights when it came to impending nuptials. She was bound by duty, convention, society, and law to obey her brother, even if it meant a life of heartbreak. Little to Clementine's knowledge, Claude knew that George wished to marry her off Reverend Osborne Whitworth, a worm of a man. There was no doubt that George was an ambitious man, seeking to gain a higher standing in society for himself. And the union of his sister with Whitworth would break the barrier to the most prestigious family in Cornwall, the Godolphin's. Claude knew that Clementine was far to delicate a flower to hand over to Whitworth. She was beautiful in every aspect. Clementine looked nothing liked her brother, George. She was tan in complexion, with light crystal blue eyes, surrounded by a halo of light brown hair. She was to Claude, a pure angel.
"I am to meet a suitor tomorrow. I know not who with, but I thought it best you know now."
It was not easy to say. She had done everything she could to stop such from happening, but George was obstinate in his ways. She thought everything of Claude. He was the one person she felt she could trust completely. Now it looked as if she were to never see him again.
"I know," Claude said sadly. He looked at her, tears beginning to form in the corner of his hazel eyes. He took her hands in his.
"I've known for some time. Ross and Francis may be at odds with George, but I have managed to keep in his good graces. Even though I am not very fond of your brother. I know who it is as well. His name is Whitworth. We attended school together although he is a few older than I."
"Whitworth, Osborne Whitworth?" She questioned with both fear and disgust on her tone. Not only had she heard nasty rumors of the man, but the few times George had invited him over, he was simply monstrous whenever others weren't looking.
"George means to marry me off to that, that scoundrel?" She said in disbelief. "It cannot be true, Claude. It mustn't." Clementine pleaded as her grasp tightened around his as if she was afraid to be torn apart from him this very moment.
"There is nothing we can do! Not as long as our relationship is kept a secret!" Claude threw his hands up in frustration and turned away from her. A sigh escaped his lips as he looked at the cloudless sky. What was he going to do? He could not let her go so easily. He loved her.
"Marry me," he said with his back still turned to her. Clementine looked at him in surprise as he turned to face her again.
"Marry me! Think about it, my love! We could leave in the middle of the night. No one need know. Once we're married we could return to Nampara. Ross would surely accept us. And once we're bound together before the eyes of God, no man can tear us asunder. Not even your brother." He rested forehead against hers
"Think about it, my love. We could finally be together."
A silence fell upon the pair as they closed their eyes. Could it be so simple of a solution? Even if George could not separate them, he would surely have his revenge. So in silence, Clementine considered his offer. of course, every ounce of her heart longed to say yes, but her mind kept her from doing so just yet.
"Would your brother so readily welcome a Warlaggen?" She asked. "And would not my brother seek revenge?"
Thoughts rushed through the young Poldark's mind. She was right. There was a chance Ross wouldn't welcome Clementine as a sister-in-law so easily. But anyone with half an eye could see that she was not her brother. She was kind. Gentle. In fact, she was the opposite of George. And it was also true that George would find a way to exact revenge on them for going behind his back to run off and get married.
Had he thought his through completely? Or was he letting his heart get the better of himself, his thinking and logic? His affection for Clementine was strong, and that was affecting his mind. Their marriage would affect far more than just themselves. It would have repercussions on everyone in both their families. It would cause a scandal to spread throughout Cornwall. There were those who still hadn't forgotten Ross's marriage to Demelza. Although she was accepted in society as a gentleman's wife, there were those who still hadn't forgotten her past. Claude's marriage to Clementine Warleggan would be the cause of a greater scandal. And therefore, a greater harm to the Poldark's good family name.
"You are right, Clementine. There is a chance that Ross wouldn't be so welcoming to us. And George will no doubt find a way to exact his wrath upon us. But I can not let you go! I won't! We are meant to be together. What care I for the quarrels of the past? Old rivals that should be dead and buried in the tomb!"
"Then I ask only for a little time. George has always taken kindly to me, he will have his way, but he might listen." She stated in attempts to persuade Claude. She hardly wanted to be away from Claude and did not wish to see him go. Though committing to marriage now would be too risky of a venture. They could not afford the losses if it came to the worst.
"Then time you shall you have, my dreariest, but what if George will not listen to reason?"
"We must pray he will," she said simply. After all, if he decided to do as he pleased then Clementine would surely be wrapped up in a loveless marriage or worse. "But if he insists, then there will be nothing to stop us from doing as we wish," she said looking lovingly at him. "In any case, I am yours, Claude."
"I understand. I have already given you my heart. Now I give you my word. If George will not listen to reason, then we shall marry. I will not let you be condemned to a loveless marriage with Osborne Whitworth. This I swear to you! We shall be together, one way or another."
At this Clementine smiled. "I love you, Claude Poldark." She said softly as her gaze turned toward his eyes. It was then that thunder cracked over them. The cloudless day had turned to storm. The rain had yet to fall, but it would soon be upon them. Clementine looked behind her, remember her carriage still waited for her at the dressmakers. She could not stay much longer or lest she look suspicious.
"I must go" she stated stepping back. "If I do not, my brother will ask questions of me that will not be so easily answered."
Claude said nothing. He pulled her softly into a kiss. "Goodbye, my love." He said. She turned to walk away when reached for her hand. "When may I see again?" He asked, hating the thought of going more than a day with seeing her face. Claude disliked being away from Clementine for too long a time.
She turned back looking and him and held his hand in return. "George means to hold a ball soon. I'll put in a word to have your family invited. I'm sure he already has a mind to, simply for intimidation. But I'll say something more. It will be you I think of all the while."
Claude kissed her again before releasing her hand. "And I, You. Safe travels, my love. I shall see you soon." She turned and left, walking back in the direction from which she came.
Claude remounted his horse and waited, watching her disappear down the path to the marketplace. Already he longed for her to return. But the longer she was away, the more explaining needed to do. Without a moments thought, Claude turned and rode home to Nampara.
Clementine entered the Warrlaggen Estate at last as the rain grew heavy outside, and the thunder rolled in the distance. She had been lucky enough to keep dry through it all, and was at last in the safety of her home. Yet even though it was only moments ago, she already felt the longing in her heart to be near to Claude. She let out a steady breath as it seemed her prescence was not yet missed. She then composed herself as the lady she was and entered further into the home heading for her room to freshen up.
George sat in the study going over the books when he heard the door open and shut outside the study door. "Is that you Clementine?" He called from his chair.
Clementine put on a simple smile as she came to the entrance of the study. "Yes," she answered simply. "Luckily I just missed the rain" she mentioned gesturing towards the window where the rain could be seen falling rather vigorously.
George looked up and gave a nod. "How was the dress makers?" He asked, knowing that his men informed him that she disappeared.
"A bit disappointing, I was unable to get the dress in the fabric I wanted, so I canceled the order." She stated sensing a sort of suspicion in his tone. She hoped that it was not of her whereabouts, and even more so why.
"Sorry to hear it." He said dryly resuming to look over documents. "Did you go anywhere else?" He asked as she turned to leave.
She stopped midstep. Obviously, he knew something, at least that is what she went off of. Her chest tightened as she hoped he knew nothing of her meeting with Claude. It would be disastrous for him to find out in such a way. "I took a stroll through the forest." She answered turning back to him. "And I know you don't like me to go alone, but I couldn't bare to be followed. I just wanted a bit of silence to myself. Please don't be angry with me, brother."
"Clementine," George said rising from his chair and walking over to her. "You are a young lady of high station. One day you will be expected to marry accordingly. Running off to the woods on a stroll in search of solitude is a dangerous business for a fine lady such as yourself.
"A wave of relief passed over Clementine as she heard this. Her affair had not been found out. "I understand." She stated simply. Though while she understood, she did not agree with such. "And I promise that I'll avoid such in the future if it will appease your worrying." She said softly. "I hate to see you so worried for my sake." She added.
George gave a nod before reaching for his sister's hand and kissing it. "Anything for you dear sister." He said. "Now you must prepare for dinner," he went on. "We have guests attending tonight." He added.
"Guests?" She questioned lightheartedly. "May I ask who we are entertaining?" She asked curiously. It wasn't uncommon for George to have a variety of different guests on most nights, so it did not seem strange or unexpected.
George walked back to his desk and sat down. "You shall see, Clementine," he said picking a pen and beginning to scratch some words on parchment.
Well, it wasn't often that he kept the guest's name from her, in fact, more often then not he told her how to compose herself before the said guest. But she did not wish to question him further and did not think he would be likely to answer. So with a nod of her head in response she left and was heading up the stairs to her room.
Claude returned home to Nampara, drenched in rain, just as the seven-hour tapers were being lit. He proceeding to enter the library and poured himself a glass of the port which was sitting out, and seated himself by the fire in order to warm himself. Down the hall, he could the marry making of Ross and the rest of the family. Claude could have easily joined them, but he preferred to remain seated where he was. Truth is, he wasn't in the mood for their festivities right at the moment. His heart was too heavy with the mere thought of losing Clementine. What was worse was that he knew Osborne. He knew him a little too well. While he portrayed all outward appearances of a pious vicar. Behind closed doors and amongst friends, he was a scoundrel, whose respect for the opposite sex was sorely lacking. To Osborne, women were simply a tool for pleasure and children. And Claude knew exactly in what way he would Clementine. He didn't want that for her, nor did he want that for any woman. Claude gazed intensively at the fire, so wrapped up in his own far wandering thoughts, that he didn't notice when Demelza entered.
"Sittin' in here all alone, almost like a ghost being as quiet as you are," Demelza said with a smile as she riffled through somethings looking for a particular item. "Why don't you come out and join the rest of us?"
Claude was pulled from his trance by her entrance. "No, Demelza," he said looking up to her. "I am not in the mood for merry making at this time." He turned his gaze back to the fire.
"What be troubling you, Claude. You seemed in good spirits before you left. Did something happen when you were out?" She asked moving towards him. It did not seem in his charater to avoid everyone as he was now, which only increased her concern.
He longed to tell her, and he knew she could be trusted. But with a secret such as this? He couldn't be sure. She moved to sit next to him, his eyes still locked in the flames. "Yes," Claude answered truthfully, "something happened."
A look of concern swept over her features. What could possibly be wrong? He was only gone for a few hours and he seemed so happy before he left. "What's gone wrong, Claude?"
"I'm not certain you would want to hear." He said, still looking at the fire. Part of him really wanted to tell her, he just didn't know where to start.
"Some deep dark secret it is then? Maybe I just want to know now for the sake of knowing. So come on no, either tell or don't tell. Either way sitting in here all alone won't help."
Claude again looked up to his sister-in-law. He smiled at her caring persistence over what was ailing him. "'Tis a matter of love."
"And matters of the heart are not so easily dealt with. The road of love was a bumpy one. There were highs and there were lows, and some lows hurt more than others, but whatever may be going on, my only a bit of advice is to keep faith even when the odds make the outcome seem bleak." She stated with wisdom from her own trails of love in the past.
"It's not as simple as that, Demelza. I fear that we shall never be able to be together. If we were, it would cast both of our family adrift."
" Tis not the first time this family has endured a scandal." Demelza pointed out. "But I see that there is no simple answer to this." She said with a sigh.
He didn't look up to her, his gaze still locked on the orange and red embers. It was true the family had endured scandal on more than one account. But it had always pasted with time.
"I know, Demelza. But a scandal of this magnitude would cause permanent damage to our family. I fear I must let her go sooner or later."
"And what girl could cause such a scandal as to break this family?" She asked now curious as to who he was in love with. After all, with as much scandal and trouble, this family had been through whoever this was had to be someone considered to be untouchable.
He looked at her and smiled. He couldn't withhold a name from Demelza. She was trying to help. Claude decided that she of all people should know. They had been very close since she came to Nampara as a kitchen maid all those years ago. He was the first one to befriend her. "Her name is-"
He was suddenly cut off by the entrance of Ross into the room. Ross smiled as he leaned in to kiss Demelza upon the cheek.
"What have you two been conversing about?" He asked her lightheartedly.
"Oh, just matters of the heart." She stated smiling back at Ross. "Nothing you would be interested in." She stated with a tone of sarcasm. For whatever reason, she had a feeling that whoever this was, was someone Claude was weary to tell Ross about. Otherwise, they would've known all along who this mystery woman of his was.
Ross let out a shot laugh and smiled in a sideways manner to his wife. "On that subject, my love, you are indeed the expert." He added in a tone of sarcasm, before taking a sip of his wine.
"Will be blasting though to the Trovogie works again tomorrow, Ross?" Asked Claude trying to desperately change the subject.
"I am to meet with the shareholders tomorrow and see if they will continue to invest in our venture. Since George began to buyout our nervous investors, revenues for gun power and fuses have been hard to come by. Luckily, Wheal Grace is still paying out with the tin load we discovered in June."
"And any news of my brothers' smelting company?" Demelza asked looking up and away from the fire at her husband.
"Nothing to my knowledge. While you were away in here, we began talking about the possibility of doing business together. In the morning I shall ride over to Trenwith to discuss it over with Francis..." Ross stopped.
It had been months, but the wound was still fresh for his cousin. Ever since the death of his wife, Elizabeth, Francis had hardly left the house at all, only going to the mine, the shareholders' meetings and church on Sundays with his son and daughter ever brought him into public. It had been hard on him. Elizabeth had died giving birth to their daughter. Francis named the child, Elizabeth Mary Poldark.
Elizabeth's death... it was only months ago. Demelza felt for Francis, and for the two children. Demelza knew better than many that losing a mother was harder than anything.
"I'll go as well, the children will be missing their mother. The least I could do is read them a story while you and Francis talk."
Ross smiled at Demelza's kindness. Years of marriage and three children had only increased these natural virtues in her.
"That's settled then," he said to her sweetly. "You too, Claude," Ross went on, "will accompany us. After all, you own a portion of the mine as well, and you should be more involved in its affairs."
Claude looked to his brother. There was no point arguing. "Yes, Ross."
"I shall look in on the children," Ross told Demelza. "Julia should be practicing her letters, she will need help." He smiled again and left the room, leaving Demelza and Claude alone again with their thoughts.
The time before dinner was running thin. Clementine sat before her vanity preparing for the evening. She couldn't help but be worried. She knew not who would be attending the dinner with them, and for some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was Whitworth. Maybe it was the simple fact that Claude had warned that it was he who George intended her to court. But either way at the moment she felt as if she were holding her breath. Clementine stared at her reflection for only a few moments longer before she got up and went to her door. She hesitated again before finally opening the door to head down to the library until dinner was announced. If anything she wanted to convince George that all was well and nothing was amiss.
George looked vainly in the full standing mirror admiring himself in his new suit made of fine silk and velvet. He wanted to make a good impression on the guests who were attending dinner. The future of his family depended upon it. Two potential suitors were also coming tonight. One for his sisters and the other was for himself. His uncle has been trying to convince him that he needed to settle down and provide an heir. And George had decided that it was time. He was thirty-two years, a time in a man's life where he must seriously think about his future. And for the first time, it hit Mr. Warleggan that life was short. Too short to waste without making the proper preparations for the time that would come after him. Therefore, George was determined that he and his sister should marry before the year was out. He smiled smugly to himself. with a jet out his chin with an air of pride, and turned to leave the room and join the others in the library.
It didn't take long for her to reach the end of the stairs, and the library was just adjacent to the staircase. She wasn't sure what to think now, and her heart was racing with a fearful anticipation. But she took those last few steps and entered the library putting on a face of polite contents. She even managed to muster up a smile, even if it was faint.
"Good evening" she stated softly announcing her presence to those in the room with a polite little curtsy.
"Good evening, sister." George greeted her from his reading chair by the fire. The guests had yet to arrive, so he sat quietly reading a novel which he had just selected for his pleasure.
"Our dinner guests should be arriving shortly. One among them being a certain Sir Francis Bassist." George looked up from his book to his sister, now sitting across from him, looking sad. "Why so downhearted Clementine?"
"I was merely thinking of Elizabeth" she lied. "I miss her dearly" she added more in truth now.
Though Elizabeth's death effected even her. After all, they were friends in a sense. In the end, she was a bit relieved to hear at least one of the names of the guests. While Bassist was not her favorite of people, she could tolerate his presence.
George winched at the sound of Elizabeth's name. There could be no denying that he loved her. He had admired her since first he set eyes on her when he was in school so many years ago. She was but fifteen then and he eighteen, but her radiant beauty had captured the eyes of not only the Poldark boys but every schoolboy in Cornwall. Since then, George had wanted her more than anything.
"As do I." Said he, sincerity ringing in his voice. When speaking of her, it was the only time one could see the man beneath the beast.
Unlike many Clementine knew the humanity of her brother. She did not see him as the beast most others knew him to be. She saw him as her brother, and while he had his faults she did still love him. She also knew his cruelty, and how harsh he could be. She didn't deny that this aspect of George worried her, but she knew deep down he still retained enough humanity to be consoled with. And that was what she was counting on. She was counting on his humanity to be able to convince him to let her marry who she loves.
From without the library, the pounding and rattling on the door had announced the arrival of the guests.
"They have begun to arrive. Come, Clementine," He said rising and extending his hand to her. "We must greet our guests."
Clementine forced another fake smile as she took her brother's hand. Her heart seemed to race again. Clementine now only prayed that this evening would not be as so as she feared it would be. Brother and sister stood arm in arm as the butler opened the door, finally revealing the faces of the dinner party. The first to enter was Sir Francis Bassist, he controlled the MPs of Cornwall, and therefore half of parliament in London. Conservative politically, Sir Bassist wished to see many wrongs made right in England. But he himself wouldn't run for office. It, therefore, became George's sole ambition to become Bassists next candidate.
"Ahh! Sir Bassist!" George exclaimed as he greeted the gentlemen. "It is a pleasure for you to join us."
"The pleasure is all mine Mr. Warleggan." He responded politely shaking his hand. He proceeded to the library with his wife on his arm.
Next came Lady Emma Addington, a shy maid of eighteen. And George's bride in question. After came the man that Clementine dredged most. Reverend Osborne Whitworth. Sir Bassist and his wife were expected and it was easy enough for Clementine to greet them in. Even the shy Miss Addington was someone that Clementine had no reason to deny. But when he came her heart dropped and fear petrified her. She couldn't even bear to offer him the smallest of smiles. All at once everything she had seen and heard of the man flooded her mind mixing in with her fears. She felt almost as if she would faint right then and there.
"Mr. Whitworth! A pleasure. This is my sister, Clementine." He looked so his sister as Osborne's gaze followed to her delicate face.
"A pleasure, my dear." Said he kissing her hand. It took everything with her not shriek away in disgust. "Your brother has told me so much about you. I thought he was describing a saint. I thought it almost too good to be true. But now I see that his portrayal has done you no justice. For indeed, you are an angel." The fat reverend smiled to George. Clementine looked away to hide her disdain.
Clementine could not even bear to look him in the eye. By this point. her hands were shaking with what she could only describe as fear. She did not want to believe that this sad excuse of a man is the person her brother intended her to marry. She remained silent for as long as she could, but social rule pushed her to speak.
"Thank you, Reverend." She managed to say, though the expression on her face subtly seemed to tell otherwise. She simply hoped that neither he nor her brother would suspect.
George looked to his sister and gave a cold smile. "Shall we proceed to dinner?" He said extending his arm to her.
"By all means," Whitworth said smiling with a lustful look to Clementine.
Clementine averted her gaze from either of the men and looked at the floor rather than their faces. At least then she could look at something more worth her while. More than anything she began to resent her brother for subjecting her to this. Though she took his arm as it was offered.
The dining room was splendidly lit with seven-hour tapers, the table was laid out in the most extravagant fashion, and George Warleggan raised his chin with arrogant pride as the dinner party entered the great hall. Clementine hung shyly on his arm as they made their way to their seats. George sat next to Lady Emma Addington, and Clementine, much to her great dismay, sat by reverend Whitworth. The rest took up their seats as directed by proper etiquette.
Proper etiquette... Clementine would easily throw it out the window and run back for Claude, but she knew George would ship her off for such behavior. She would never see the light of day again. So she held her tongue and did as instructed, just as she was trained. After all of there was anything she knew, it was how to be good and prim and proper in the eyes of her overbearing brother.
George watched with satisfaction at the guests from the far end of the table. Success was in the air, he could feel it. And once Clementine was married, he would become a member of one of the most prominent families in all of Cornwall. George reveled in the thought of finally having the upper hand against Ross and Francis. The ability to finally finish them off. He could do it, once he could lend his name to the Goddolifns. He looked at Clementine, sitting uncomfortably by her suitor at the other end of the table. Already he could see that she distanced him. George himself, thought him to be an impudent bore. While outwardly, he possessed all the manners and teachings of a proper gentleman. His reputation in his personal sheltered life was beginning to mirror on his outward appearance. Still, George felt little pity over the matter. His sister would become his wife, there was no doubt about that, and George, at last, would be the most powerful man in Cornwall.
The meal carried on with its mundane flow just as the eighth and last course was brought out into the dining hall. As the guests were just finishing, George rose from his seat, raised his glass and proposed a toast.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, "to the future of Cornwall, the success of our business ventures, and upcoming nuptials."
Nuptials? Clementine couldn't believe her ears. She could only pray that he meant nuptials concerning his own ambitions. Though she wasn't so naive as to assume that. She could easily guess Georges intentions at this point. But she wouldn't comply so easily. Clementine's gaze turned to her brother.
"Nuptials, brother?" She questioned as sweetly and innocently as she could fake. After all, she was trying her best to conceal her true feelings upon all this. Though, that task proved harder than one would realize.
George turned so his sister could discern his features by the candlelight. A smile began to tug slightly at the corner of his mouth. This made Clementine uneasy.
"Yes, dear sister," he said in a sinister way. "Our upcoming nuptials. Mine to Lady Emma Addington, and yours to Rev. Osborne Whitworth." He turned away again and averted his attention back to the dinner party.
Hearing the words aloud made Clementine go ghostly pale and physically sick. Could George be so cruel? He had mentioned suitors a few times since she had come of age, but she didn't think he would marry her off so soon. Not to mention, she always thought he would at least ask for her consent. She barely even noticed how much time had past when she spoke up again, only this time she wasn't so polite.
"Excuse me, but I fear I have suddenly become ill," She said all in a lie but managed to think of some reason to leave. "I must retire to my room. My apologies," She stated not bothering to even ask, for she knew if she had, George would deny her request. She then stood up, somewhat forcefully, and left the room before anyone had a chance of stopping her. She did lie on the reasons for her illness, but the ailment of itself was quite certainly real.
