Elizabeth gazed out of the paned glass of the window from the library at Trenwith her heart skipping a beat as she saw Ross Poldark dismounting his horse near the front entrance of the house. She gracefully descended the stair to see him in.
"Ross, how good of you to visit. I fear Francis is not at home at the moment. He has more important things to occupy his time."
His brooding gaze seemed to penetrate her soul.
"I've come to see if there was anything I could do if I could be of any service to you and Francis. Perhaps, he could see reason. His lifestyle choices are not..."
He noticed Elizabeth looked down to hide her emotion- the look of despair upon her face.
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. You don't deserve..."
"We are managing as best we can." She interrupted for fear of her true emotions and reaction to his pity.
Ross then turned his head away from her to cover a hacking cough.
"Oh, Ross. You're not well. I should have guessed. You look quite pale." Elizabeth then took the liberty of pressing her hand to his forehead.
"You're feverish. Come, you must lie down." As there was no servant to assist him, Elizabeth was bold enough to link her arm with his to guide him towards a guest bedroom to lie down.
"You must rest." She continued.
"Elizabeth, I can't..." But, Ross's speech ceased as his body became quite weak. He slightly collapsed as he felt his feet and legs give way beneath him. Elizabeth made him sit upon the bed before his body could hit the ground. He lay back. Elizabeth then could sense he was experiencing chills along with the fever and congestion of the chest. She removed his boots. She left the room some moments to return quickly with a small vile of something and a pitcher of water on tray along with several linen towels. Elizabeth then noticed that he could hardly hold his eyes open and his breathing was short. She watched his chest rise and fall and could time his short breaths. He slightly wheezed as his breathing became more laboured.
"I'll tell Francis to send for Dr. Enys as soon as gets back. I don't want to leave you here."
She took the liberty of opening his shirt. Her eyes sparkled as she did so very gracefully, and it had become apparent to Ross even in his half-alert state that she did so very lovingly and tenderly.
She opened the vile.
"This is a balm...it will give you some relief and soothe you.
Ross closed his eyes as her hand gently massaged his chest to aid in the absorption of the balm.
Elizabeth seemed to try to mask her desire for fear that Ross would notice if he opened his eyes again. She had not been given the opportunity to touch Ross in so intimate a way before. She moved her other hand to feel his head again.
"My God, your fever's worse." She dipped a towel in the cool water and softly bathed his brow.
"It must break." There was worry in her voice.
Ross began to fall sleep. Uncomfortable though he was, he was indeed exhausted.
Hours passed and Elizabeth remained at his side.
Night had fallen and Francis had not returned.
Ross became delirious in the night sweating and began to experience night terrors. Elizabeth was sleeping in a chair beside the bed but was awoken to his crying out. She gently raised her head and sat upon his bed.
"SSShhhh..." She tried to comfort him. "Ross, hush now...Everything's going to be all right." She tried bathing his forehead again. She gazed at his restless body and alarmingly realized that his shirt was soaked in his sweat. She moved to fetch him a clean one-though it belonged to Francis-better than leaving him in his own soaked one.
She drew his coverlet down a bit further, so that she could draw his shirt up over his head gently and off of his body.
Elizabeth noticed Ross's strong, muscular physique and body was quite limp. He seemed so helpless in these moments. It made her want to cry.
"Shhh" she continued to whisper. He did not open his eyes but was mumbling nonsense.
She then placed the clean, dry shirt over his head and pulled it down over his chest most tenderly and sweetly.
Then, Ross began to speak more clearly yet still in delirium.
Ross didn't know what he was saying..."Elizabeth...Elizabeth?" She almost answered him to let him know she was there but remained silent as she heard him continue, "Elizabeth, my one true...Why must you...why have you let Francis take you from me? He has taken you from me. Elizabeth, my one true love...Lost...Lost...Lost forever."
The tears continued to fill her eyes as she heard this. She moved to put another cool towel upon his head. It was the wee hours of the morning and Francis finally trotted in drunk and stumbling along the stairs wailing Elizabeth's name. He crossed the occupied guest room that's door remained open wide and could see the slight glow of a fire lit within. Surprised at that, he entered to a sight at which he rubbed his eyes.
"Elizabeth? What's this?" Though Francis was not sober, he was aware of Ross lying in the bed and Elizabeth sitting there upon it at his side. He gave the couple an intensely jealous glare.
"Take Ross's horse to fetch Dr. Enys." She responded angrily as if to allude to the loathing of Francis's whereabouts.