Author's Note: This is so not how I expected this chapter to go. With the idea that the wedding took place approximately three weeks after the infamous "blue dress" episode, many of the interactions and reactions to the marriage have been moved up in time. I hope this doesn't affect the characterizations, but please let me know if you think I'm full of it. :)

When he had returned that evening, it had been empty-handed. Not that she had expected anything, but he had gone into Truro and it was unusual for him to come home with nothing. "I saw Reverend Odgers. He'll announce the banns, and we can be married the third Sunday afternoon after the services." They were sitting together at the table eating supper.

Demelza blushed. "I'm that pleased, Ross." There was no danger to calling him by his Christian name: Jud and Prudie had long been abed. Jud had given her a sidelong look when he returned from Illuggan, but as he had arrived home not long before Ross had, the man had been unable to corner her and give her a piece of his mind. Nor had he been able to tell Prudie so she could do it for him. She expected to get an earful tomorrow. Demelza knew that they would not approve or understand. She didn't rightly understand. "You went to Truro?"

"Yes, and then to the mine to see Captain Henshawe. Damn ironstone."

"What does he think?"

Ross sighed and took a drink of ale. "We're going to have to start blasting. Of course, gunpowder is yet another expense. It could be months before we reach copper. I should do my best to try to get as much capital out of my investors sooner, though my banker tells me that instead I should be trying to buy some of them out before they sell their shares to George Warleggan."

"Oh." Demelza paused before asking, "Why do you both dislike each other so?"

Ross pushed back his chair and let his legs extend completely under the table. "We have always been at loggerheads. But currently it is his and his family's blind ambition toward profit that bothers me the most. That and his constant undermining of my relationship with Francis. The two of us can do that well enough on our own without George interfering."

"I see." She let the silence linger just a moment longer than was comfortable. "I checked the barley today; it still needs a few weeks before harvest. I think we're going to have to hire another farmhand. And Jinny came by. She brought the baby." She saw a grimace of both anger and frustration fall over his face and he looked away from her as she spoke. "She was asking for work once the child is a little older."

His gaze moved back to her. "She did?"

Demelza nodded. "I told her I would speak with you. She worried about how to keep herself and the child with Jim in Bodmin." She hated to remind him of what he saw as his failure with Jim Carter.

"Does she want to stay in the cottage?" Ross asked.

"Yes, she does."

"Well, when you marry me we're going to need a kitchen maid. I've been spoiled and won't be able to go back to Prudie's cooking ever again."

Demelza took in a gasping breath. "Oh. I hadn't thought about that." She could feel her face heating again.

Ross reached across the table and put his hand on hers. "Did you think I would change my mind?"

Now it was her turn to look away. "You should. You should marry some rich lady and then have no problems with money and the mine and the Warleggans and keeping everyone in their positions. I aren't a lady, Ross. I 'ave no idea how to be one. You know I'd be more 't 'ome harvesting barley and pulling turnips than going to a ball on your arm. That be my place."

He gripped her chin then and gently guided her face back towards his. "That may be so, but your place is with me. Whether we're pulling turnips or going to a ball." He looked straight into her eyes for a moment, then let her go and moved back in his chair again. "Have you been worrying on this all day?" When she didn't answer he said, "Of course you have. And not said anything to Jinny or Prudie?"

Sometimes he could get her ire up with his moods, and this one, with its combination of flirtatiousness, condescension, and concern, made her snappish. Previously she had been able to take herself off to another part of the house to do chores or walk Garrick, but she couldn't do that now. She had to deal with her betrothed as a wife would, however that might be. "How could I? I don't rightly understand it myself!"

"You aren't required to understand. You're only required to accept it."

Of course he could not grasp why she was so hesitant. If there was anything Ross Poldark was, it was comfortable in his station in society and in his own skin, even with the scar on his face. Demelza's scars, hidden now, would forever remind her of her humble beginnings with a father that drank too much, beat her bloody on a regular basis, and left her and her brothers to be cold and hungry. Ross probably thought she should be grateful. And she was, to a certain extent. But she didn't want to be with a husband out of gratitude. If that was all their relationship was about, she'd rather stay his kitchen maid, and hang all the gossips and rumors.

She sighed before taking their empty plates to the kitchen. She needed a break from him for a few moments. Before coming back to the parlor where they took their meals, she stood at the doorway on the kitchen side, closed her eyes, and took a deep, calming breath as she leaned against the door frame.

"Demelza."

"Judas!" Her eyes dashed open to see Ross standing close enough to her that their faces were nearly touching. "You trying to frighten me to death, Ross?"

"Demelza." She could feel the warmth of his breath on her cheek. "I know this is difficult for you. I'll try to make it easier. But I told you, your place is by my side. Always." He placed a light kiss on her cheek before turning on his heel back into the parlor. "I'll be in the study until late; don't wait for me." He turned back to look at her and said, "You're welcome to sleep where you like."

There was no possible way that Jud wouldn't have told Prudie about the upcoming nuptials, thought Demelza. She decided that she would need the time in the morning with Ross, if she could persuade him to stay in bed with her for awhile.

Demelza enjoyed the feeling of being wrapped in Ross's arms when she woke the next morning. She noted that the sun was not yet up, and burrowed further into his embrace without waking him, going back to sleep herself. Upon her subsequent stirring, he was gone again, though she could hear movement below stairs. Her reverie was broken by the addition of male voices. She couldn't make out any actual words, but could hear tones of frustration and disapproval. Ross and Jud, then? She couldn't think of anyone else that would be at Nampara so early in the morning.

Quickly washing and dressing, she began to make her way downstairs as hurriedly as possible when, upon reaching the bottom of the staircase, she realized it wasn't Jud's voice she had heard arguing with Ross. Instead, the Trenwith Poldark men were loudly informing Ross that he was not going to be accepted in any polite society and that he would be the laughingstock of all of Cornwall. She thought she even heard Mister Francis say that Ross and Verity were well matched in their poor attachments. She would have sworn that her heart skipped or stopped beating entirely. It was one thing for her to remind Ross of these things, especially when he insisted this marriage was what he wanted. It was entirely another for his family to be involved. And Reverend Odgers hadn't even begun to announce the banns yet; that wouldn't happen for two more days.

Demelza felt her legs begin to quiver and threaten to drop her onto the floor. She hastily moved from the landing into the kitchen, where she was met by Prudie. She groaned inwardly. Prudie in addition to Ross's family would be too much. Instead of fussing at her, however, Prudie led Demelza over to the fire and gave her a small push to indicate she should sit. Demelza watched, dumbfounded, as Prudie made a dish of tea and then handed it to her. "What's going on?" Demelza whispered, barely able to take in this change of attitude.

"I don' think it right, or fittin', but Mister Ross is in the parlor fighting 'is family for ye, so he must care for ye. And I'd rather 'ave ye here than some fudgy-faced baggage with drop curls." She leaned closer to Demelza as if to impart a secret and said, "Like Mister Francis's wife."

Demelza could say nothing in reply. If she was still to marry Ross after this morning's event, she would have to tread a fine line between the her old life and the new one. For now, however, she needed to leave the vicinity of the upraised voices or she would put herself in a state. "I'll be in the garden, Prudie," Demelza said as she stood up. "I can't... You'll attend to the guests." She didn't wait for a reply before nearly running out of the room and leaving the house.

"Stubborn boy." Charles Poldark sat in the large chair that used to belong to his brother Joshua, while Ross and Francis sat on either side of the table.

Ross simply nodded. "If my staying in Cornwall and the reopening of Wheal Leisure didn't illustrate that clearly enough, Uncle, I'm not sure what else I could do."

Charles Poldark let out a guffaw and glanced at his son. Francis's face was white and his skin drawn tight around a frown. "This is a mistake, Ross," said Francis.

Ross sighed. "Francis, I don't know what else I can say. I don't need your permission. Nor yours, Uncle. I've received the only permission I need, and that's Demelza's. I've made my decision. I shan't keep it a secret. For her sake if not my own."

Charles could tell that Francis was not mollified by this statement at all, and decided to face the issue head on. "Well then, I expect you and your betrothed to join us supper at Trenwith on Sunday."

Ross was taken aback. "Uncle?"

"Choake tells me I'm not long for this world, Ross. The heart stroke I had at the christening was the first, but will probably not be the last. I insist on meeting the woman you are going to marry and I know that Aunt Agatha will wish to as well. I believe that only Elizabeth has seen her recently."

Ross coughed, remembering that visit. "Yes, indeed." He rubbed his hand across his forehead in exasperation. "I'll ask her. I'll send a reply to Trenwith later today."

"Excellent," said Charles. "Come, Francis. I'm sure there's something at Grambler that could use your attention." The two men exited Nampara and Ross watched as Francis helped his father up onto the horse. It took longer than expected, but the older man was still holding on.

What was he going to tell Demelza about this?