Ch.1-

"Prudie!"

The voice bellowed from the library and carried through the house. The few guests that remained turned towards each other, suddenly uncomfortable at the atmosphere. The memorial service was more than solemn; it was morbid. The lack of an actual person to eulogize and bury made the ceremony seem incomplete. The widower sat in the first pew with his cousin, who held his infant son. He did not have the desire to look at him because he was a reminder of his wife. The services were hurried along so that those gathered could move to Nampara to continue mourning as was a tradition. After an hour or so, few stayed as it was clear Ross Poldark didn't want anyone around to console him for there is no consolation. The love of his life, his soul mate, the one person who was his constant and that had never let him down, was gone. That's what he was told and was forced to believe. Yet a part of him felt like she was still alive. Somewhere. She was still lurking in his mind and his heart, unable to reach him. He didn't know why. Call it instinct or intuition. Most people around him called it denial. Weeks of searching for her after the oars of the boat washed up on the beach of Nampara Cove proved futile and he was told to accept the fact that Demelza was dead.

Today, as he sat in church and listened to sermons and hymns, he could not resign himself to the fact that she was not coming back. He wouldn't until he saw it with his own eyes. For now, he talked himself into thinking she was lost somewhere but not dead. He wouldn't even say the word. When the time came for him to lead the congregation out of the chapel, Ross stood, carrying his hat while Prudie and Verity walked behind him carrying Jeremy. His other cousin, Francis followed with Ross's one time love, Elizabeth, walking with their heads down, somber and silently weeping. Ross, however, had no tears. At least not for the public. That was not to say that every night since the search was abandoned to find Demelza, he didn't lie in their bed and sob. He made sure to do muffle the sound in her pillow which still held the scent of her hair. Demelza always had the aura of flowers, freshly baked bread, and the sea. Always the sea. It was the one place she felt at home and now it was the place that took her.

Ross was slumped in the chair behind his desk, playing with the frayed ribbon he found on her dressing table a few days after the accident. It was one he had given her years before that she wore on their first visit to Trenwith. That seemed like a lifetime ago. So much had passed since then and now here he was alone once more. He never thought he'd be in this position for the second time. He cursed the God that they prayed to earlier for doing this to him yet again. First Julia; his beloved, innocent daughter. And now Demelza.

He looked at his empty glass and called again for someone.

"PRUDIE! Fetch me the rum!"

As the room echoed he remembered how he used to call for Demelza in the same way during her early days at Nampara. She came as a child, dirty, starving, but without any resentment to her plight. Garrick was always close at her heels, never leaving her side, not even the day she went missing. From that first day, she brought a light and hope to his life that he didn't know he needed. She had seamlessly grown into his heart, taking up residence one piece at a time. Before long she held all of it in her hand so by the night she came to him in that blasted dress, when he took her for the first time, he gave to her as much as she gave to him. They were equals and there was no going back from there. Ross didn't know it was love, true, real and abiding, until months after they were married.

Ross grew impatient waiting for Prudie to bring him what he asked for so he rummaged through the library for a bottle of anything at this point. He knew that Demelza kept a decanter of brandy hidden in here during the days when Jud was still working for them. He just didn't know where. He rifled through the book shelves, moving old journals and papers in search of the liquor. Before he realized it he found himself standing in front of his father's chest. Ross looked down, a chill running through him because he knew if he opened it what he would find inside. He was shaking now but needed to see it. Crouching down, he lifted the lid of the old trunk and as expected, the first thing he saw was a hint of blue. He pushed it up and there, lying on top was the blue dress Demelza wore the night that changed everything. A part of him wanted to shred the silk until it lost all semblance that it was ever a dress. The other part of him, the part that loved the women who had worn it, wanted to hold on to, never to let it go. Not able to do either, he slammed the lid down and resumed his search for alcohol.

His back was to the door when he heard it open and close.

"Finally. Just put it down on the desk and leave me alone," he said not bothering to look who it was.

"No Ross. I think you need to talk," said a soft feminine voice.

Ross turned around slowly, his eyes red rimmed as he saw his cousin Verity, standing there with a dark green bottle of the rum he called for. He didn't move towards her, instead of returning to the desk chair and taking a seat again. Verity watched her cousin as sat down, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. She walked to the desk, picked up his glass and filled it with the amber liquid. Placing it back in front of her, she said nothing but did take a seat across from him in one of the other chairs, folding her hands in her lap.

"Verity," he whispered.

"My dear, please let me get you something to eat," his cousin said leaning forward to get his attention.

"No. I don't want to go back out there and face anyone. I can't after what I've done," he said, gulping down the brandy.

"Done? You've done nothing Ross," Verity said.

He let out a harsh laugh and nodded the glass still at his mouth.

"That's exactly right! I did nothing! I didn't look for her long enough! I gave up! I believed everyone who said she's dead! To me, she's not dead! She's not!"

Ross was shouting but Verity did nothing to stop him. He needed to let out the anger and pain that had been guiding him since Demelza's disappearance.

"Ross," she started to say.

"Don't Verity. Don't tell me it's going to be alright. Don't tell me I'll get over it in time. Just don't. Because right now I don't think anything will be alright ever again."

Verity watched him, fighting the urge to go over and take him into her arms. She knew her cousin long enough to know when to back away. This was one of those times. Nothing she said was going to do any good once he's set his mind to something.

"The worst part of this Verity is that she left without knowing how much I love her. I love her Verity. With all my soul and she doesn't know," he said, his voice breaking.

"She did know Ross."

Ross looked up at her when she used the past tense. Searching his cousin's face, he saw that she believed Demelza was gone too.

"You're like them aren't you? You believe she's dead too, don't you?" He sounded accusatory but Verity held her ground.

"Ross, my dear, I don't want to but we must accept that she's been gone a long time. If she were going to be found, it would have happened already. Please, you shouldn't hold on to false hope," Verity said, now walking over to him.

"I can't Verity. I can't believe it. I can't and won't think that Demelza left me," he said.

"Ross, she didn't leave you. She had an accident; a terrible, unfortunate accident. No one could foresee that happening," she explained.

"I should have. I should have known that she was back to taking the boat out," he responded

"Demelza had a mind of her own. You couldn't change that. And in truth, you wouldn't change that, would you?"

Lifting his head again, one hand on the glass, the other in Verity's, Ross looked at her and knew she was right. The Demelza he brought home and fell in love with was an independent woman who, even if he begged, would do what she wanted if she thought it best. Nothing he said would have stopped her but that didn't make it better.

"No. I wouldn't have changed her. What I would change is the fact that I never told her that. Any of it," he said.

Suddenly, Ross pushed Verity away and walked around the desk, past her, past the trunk, leaving the alcohol and memories behind for now. He had reached the door and hesitated before opening it.

"Is everyone still here?" he asked.

"No. Just Dwight. He wanted to stay and make sure you were alright and he wanted to check on Jeremy," Verity said.

As if just remembering he had a son, he closed his eyes. Jeremy. The child he hadn't wanted that Demelza was sure was a sign of a new beginning. With her gone, how was he going to raise his son as she would have wanted?

"Is Jeremy alright?"

"Yes, Ross. He's too young to know anything."

"He's lucky."

"Is he Ross?"

"Yes. Because he won't remember the pain of this time," Ross said.

Verity knew what Ross meant but was forgetting one thing.

"That might be true. He won't remember that. Yet is he lucky to grow up without a mother? To not know what an amazing woman Demelza was? You must tell him," Verity said.

A new wave of sadness and loss ran through him which spurred him to leave. Without looking back he exited the library determined to get away. Ross couldn't think of that now for to relate to Jeremy what Demelza was like would mean he'd have to accept that she was gone. He needed to get some air and get away from Nampara. He didn't bother to take his coat or hat opting instead to brave the weather in just his waistcoat. Heading outside he stood in the yard, not quite sure which direction to go in. He needed to talk to Demelza. If today was a true funeral Ross could go to the churchyard, stand over her newly dug grave and mourn. But there was no plot and there would be no real headstone as there was no Demelza. Struck with a thought, Ross knew where he could find Demelza to talk to. Trekking through the back of the house he headed towards the place where he knew he'd feel her. He soon found himself on the same beach that he'd scoured months ago searching for her.

Ross stood on the end of the sand, the tide barely coming to his feet. The foam of each wave left a film as it receded as if they were memories. Looking out, Ross imagined his wife fighting these same waves in a struggle to save herself and come back to shore. Visions of her soaked to the bone, her hair heavy and dank against her body were as clear as if he were watching the scene play out in front of him. He had these seems thoughts each night since she had gone missing. And each night he found himself wading out to the water to reach her, always missing her. Just as he reached what he thought was Demelza, the boat and the woman sank under the dark waters. Ross often woke up calling her name. As he stood there now he heard someone doing the same thing. Yelling for Demelza. He realized it was his voice he heard.

"DEMELZA!"

He walked up and down the shore, calling for her, believing if he yelled loud enough, the wind would carry his plea to her and she'd emerge from the sea like Aphrodite.

"DEMELZA! Where are you?! Why did you leave me?!"

The breath left him as the sea air filled his lungs forcing him to drop to his knees in the sand. He hung his head, gasping, as he ran his hands through his hair. He felt something in his fist when he saw he still held Demelza's hair ribbon. Pulling it through his fingers he remembered the last time he saw her. She hadn't given him any clue that morning that she was going out in the boat even though he knew they could use the extra supplies with such as scant larder. If he knew when he left for the mine that she wasn't going to be waiting for him when he returned, he might have done things differently. He'd have given her a kiss and held her just one more minute. He'd have told her how grateful he was that she was his wife and that what he thought was second best in the beginning of their lives together, was actually the best he could have wished for. He'd have told her that meeting her that day at Redruth Fair was the luckiest thing that ever happened to him and he hoped she didn't regret the fact that she married a less than prosperous man. He'd have said all that before asking her not to go out in the boat without him. That way when the sea swept her away, he could have gone with her so he wasn't left alone to cope.

Ross looked down and saw his hands were wet from the tears he didn't realize were falling, the ribbon twisted around his knuckles. He pulled it tighter, hoping the pain would alleviate some of what his heart felt. He closed his eyes and tugged as he felt his fingers go numb. The stinging was a welcome relief to the ache in his chest. He was focused on that when he heard barking in the distance. For an instance he expected, no hoped, that when he looked up he would see Demelza with Garrick close behind. Raising his head slowly, he opened his eyes and saw Garrick but he was alone. No wild red hair to be found. Once again the reality set in that she was no longer here.

He didn't move but let the dog come to him. As much as Garrick was a thorn in Ross's side when he first came, he was now a connection to Demelza. He called the dog to his side and rubbed his face in his fur, not quite knowing what he was hoping to smell. The wind had turned and the sky turned dark, as a storm loomed in the distance. Ross wondered if this is what happened that day of the accident. Was Demelza out in fine weather and without warning, got swept up in a sudden squall? He didn't know why he kept torturing himself with 'what if's' and 'if only'. There was nothing he could do about what happened. Ross stayed motionless for a few minutes more, avoiding the inevitable trek back to the house. As he sat there, the wind whipping around him, he heard a tune in the air. He knew it had to be his imagination or he was dreaming again.

"This has to stop," he cried to no one. "Please, Demelza, if you're out there, please come home. I can't do this without you. I don't want to do this without you."

Garrick nipped at Ross, clearly wanting him to go. He glanced down at the dog and decided he couldn't avoid home any longer. Standing up on shaky legs, Ross took another look out to sea and wondered where she was. Where did the currents take her? Was she scared and did she call for him? Or did it happen quickly and painlessly, so that she had no time to think of it? He had thought of joining her when he first came down today for he had nothing to live for. Jeremy, he thought. There was still Jeremy to consider. Verity was right on that score; Jeremy needed him, however much he could give of himself when his heart was empty.

He retraced his steps back to Nampara, entering through the front door this time, not minding that he was tracking sand into the house. Demelza wasn't there to scold him or Garrick. Ross walked into the parlor, void of any mourners for which he was grateful. The decanters of liquor were still out and availed himself of more brandy. He saw the crystal bottle filled with the burgundy liquid that was his wife's favorite. Without knowing why, Ross picked it up, removed the stopper and inhaled; the sweetness of the port was just another reminder of Demelza. Gulping down his drink, he looked around the room as each site held some memory of her. Her imprint was left in every corner, from the spinet to the various vases that she filled daily with flowers.

"Ross?"

Verity came in, with Jeremy in her arms. Ross turned towards her, downing the last of his drink. Putting the glass down, he walked towards her and took his son in his arms. Moving the blanket out of the way, he took in his features. The dark hair and eyes were his but there was something gentle and soft in Jeremy's face that was a reflection of Demelza.

Ross sat down on the bench and cradled the sleeping child, occasionally brushing his cheek with his finger.

"How do I do this Verity? How do I go on living a life when the soul of my life is gone? Why should I?" he asked tearfully.

Joining him on the seat, Verity looked at her cousin and had no words that would make what happened easier to deal with.

"I don't know my dear. But you must. Not only for Jeremy but for your sake as well. You know that Demelza would not want you to wallow in grief but to go on. It's what you would have wished she do if the trial had ended differently isn't it?"

Transferring his gaze from his son to his cousin, Ross tried to comprehend what she was saying. He knew logically she was right, but emotionally he wasn't so sure.

"I know she would. I'm not as strong as she was, Verity."

"Then you'll have to find that strength in yourself, Ross. It's there. I'm sure of it. As was Demelza," Verity said.

"You seem to have more confidence in me that I do."

"That's because I see you the way she did. Believe in yourself, Ross. Just as Demelza did."

He nodded and looked back down at his son. For his sake, if no one else, he would try and be a better man and make a life just as everyone told him to. But his heart still held a part aside for the woman who was no longer here. For the woman that he believed was out there, waiting for him to find her.

The bar maid with the fiery red hair and temper to match fought off the attentions of yet another drunken patron of the Le Coq Rouge. In the few months she had been here, she had more propositions than she could deal with. And she was not interested in any of them. She wasn't sure why but a part of her held back as though she knew her heart lay elsewhere. Yet she did not know where or for whom. They called her Sally but she knew that wasn't her name. She had no idea what her name was or where she came from. She just knew that she belonged to someone, somewhere.

And she wondered if they would ever meet again.