"Beautiful sunrise isn't it, son?" Ross nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his father's voice coming from the dimly lit sitting room. The first rays of sunlight had barely broken the horizon. He thought he was sneaking out early enough to avoid any questions, but apparently he was so very wrong. "This is the fourth Saturday in a row you've been up and about at the crack of dawn," his father continued with his astute observation. "I wonder, wonder."

"I told you I'm doing some research for something I'm writing," Ross carefully explained, but avoided making eye contact lest his father see straight through him. Technically it wasn't a lie – he did intend to do some research, if time allowed for it.

"Hmm," Joshua mused, obviously not put off the trail, "there was a time not that long ago you couldn't be bothered to put in an appearance before noon on a Saturday."

He had no defense against that because there was a time not long ago he did relish his sleep above all else. This new early-bird-gets-the-worm thing was all Demelza's fault. Who knew there was so much to do so early in the morning on the weekends? He'd been missing out on a whole host of things like craft fairs and farmer's markets. "I know, but I'm serious about this thing I'm researching," Ross admitted.

"Are you now?"

"Yes."

His father look him up and down, clearly unimpressed with his answer. "What is this you're working on?"

"Oh, you know, I told you about it," Ross hedged, trying very hard not to squirm under Joshua's scrutiny. There was nothing worse than feeling like he was five years old again, having been caught with a packet of biscuits just before supper.

"Remind me again, my memory isn't what it once was."

If Ross wasn't mistaken, his father was failing miserably at hiding a smirk. "The Waterloo thing," he said curtly, grabbing for his mobile in his pocket when the incoming text alert sounded and automatically checked the message. It was impossible to keep a stupid smile from spreading across his face. It was nothing more than a simple picture of a breakfast table set for two decorated with festive fall flowers followed by the word "hungry?" Ross glanced up to see his father regarding him closely with shrewd dark eyes that missed absolutely nothing and promptly tried to wipe the smile off of his face.

"It's good to see you interested in 'research' again. It's been a very long time," Joshua commented benignly.

"Yeah," Ross mumbled, having the sinking feeling that his father was now on to him since he could practically hear the air quotes around the word 'research'. They'd come to an unspoken truce a long time ago about his lack of a love life after the Elizabeth debacle. Ross would live his life how he saw fit. His father would mind his own damn business.

"Maybe you'll share this 'research' with me soon." Joshua took a cup of tea from the tray Prudie presented to him with a murmur of thanks. "I'm quite keen on knowing all about it."

"I don't know if it's going anywhere yet," Ross said, panic starting to set in. He was not prepared for the two-pronged attack that he now found himself under since it was obvious his father suspected something. Demelza had already been after him for weeks to bring her around.

"Hmm," his father hummed and dunked a biscuit into his tea. "I don't think you'd waste so much time if you thought it was a dead end."

"No," Ross was forced to agree through gritted teeth, "that would be rather pointless."

"Just as I thought," Joshua said brightly. "So I'd best not keep you."

Ross grabbed up his case, cane, and keys, taking two steps toward the garden door before stopping. He had to say something. "I don't know when I'll be back."

"No worries, son," the older man chuckled, eyes twinkling with mirth. "Stay as late as you like. I won't wait up."

"Ring me if you need anything," Ross added for good measure. "I'll come right home."

"There won't be any need for that," Joshua said with a saucy wink. "I'm in good hands here."


"I hope you're hungry," Demelza called from the kitchen. His stomach rumbled loudly at the delicious smells wafting from the back of the flat.

"Starving," he answered her, dropping his laptop case in his favorite chair and removing his jacket before continuing down the small hallway. He left his cane resting by door, finding he didn't have much use for it in the small space. Ross took a moment to appreciate the view of her pert backside as she sliced something at the counter. Her glorious red hair was pulled back in a messy knot. "It smells divine whatever it is."

"Sausage and potato frittata and oatmeal bread." She turned to face him, smiling brightly, and it nearly took his breath away. "I just used up what was left over from last evening."

"How very industrious of you, Ms Carne," he teased and took his seat at the table.

"If someone wasn't such a glutton, Mr Poldark, I would've had more sausage." She placed a cast iron skillet down carefully on a trivet before turning back to the counter for a plate of grilled tomatoes and mushrooms and the basket of bread.

"If you weren't such a good cook…" Ross trailed off, dark brows furrowing in a cross between confusion and disgust. There were unexpected and unidentifiable green bits in the egg thing she had made. As a matter of principle, he didn't like to eat things that were green, especially at breakfast. "What is that?"

She took her own seat across from him and set about cutting a very healthy slice of the frittata for him. "What is what?"

"The green stuff?"

"Kale."

"Kale?"

"Try it, you might like it," she stated and handed him his loaded plate. "It's good for you."

Ross pushed a piece of leaf around on his plate with his fork. "I dunno."

"I haven't killed you yet have I?"

"No," he was loathe to admit. He didn't consider himself a finicky eater, but he definitely preferred certain foods. Demelza didn't care. She cooked what she liked and he could eat it or not. He admired that about her.

She regarded him with a smirk for a brief moment before tucking into her plate. "I think I have located Jeremy's commanding officer's papers," Demelza said causally. "There are diaries, apparently."

"What?" His fork clattered to his plate. It was like being sucker punched and getting the best present ever all rolled into one. This was the break he'd been hoping for now that he'd finally gotten serious about actually working on his book rather than just talking about it. A firsthand account of what had taken place that Sunday in June of 1815 would really help him with the details when it came time to write the battle scene.

"I said diaries."

"How?"

Demelza forked up a bit of sausage and egg. "Just did some librarian witch-foo."

"Librarian witch-foo?" Ross inquired with a laugh. She truly had no idea just how adorable she was and it was killing him.

"You heard me."

"That I did. So what is it exactly?"

She shook her head while trying very hard to suppress a smile. "Oh no, that's a trade secret."

"Afraid I might learn to do it myself and have no need for a librarian?" he teased.

"Something like that."

Their eyes met across the table and Ross felt his stomach do a flip flop. It had been happening more and more between them recently and the increasing intensity of it always caught him off guard. Demelza broke the spell after several long heartbeats by clearing her throat.

"Well, the papers are in a small local historical society near Coventry," she continued as she offered him a second helping of the frittata. He hadn't even realized he'd cleared his plate. "It's a good ways away. They're half-days on Saturdays, closed Sundays, Mondays, and all bank holidays."

He nodded for her to go ahead to put the second helping on his plate, knowing full and well he'd just given her carte blanche to serve him kale at will. A little green in his diet wouldn't kill him, or at least that is what Dwight was always trying to tell him. "That makes things difficult, but we've a break coming up. I should be able to arrange something."

"It might take you a couple days to go through everything. The archivist said there is loads of correspondence as well, and military missives."

"It sounds like a treasure trove."

"It does." She got up to start clearing the table and putting her kitchen to rights. The one thing he had learned about Demelza during their short time together was she loathed disorder.

"You should come with me," he blurted out, an idea quickly forming in his mind. She would be ever so helpful in navigating the archives for one, but his real underlying motive was to have her all to himself for a few days away from everyone and everything familiar.

"We could go up for a couple days. See some sights. Eat whatever it is they eat in Coventry. Make some great discoveries. It'll be fun."

She stood frozen, looking at him like a deer caught in headlights. "I don't know, Ross."

"Why not?"

"It's just not done. What would people say?" She took his plate to busy herself with scraping the bit of eggs and potatoes he'd left into the compost bin.

"Who cares?" He had to work to keep the frustration out of his voice because he knew how cognizant she was of her position at the school after working so hard to get there. She would do nothing she thought might jeopardize Verity's good opinion of her. Then there was the resident gossip, Ruth Treneglos, to contend with as well.

"I care," she said softly.

"I know you do, Demelza, but you made the discovery. Don't you want to see if it pays off?" he urged, discovering he wanted to share this one thing with her more than anything else in the world.

"You can tell me all about it when you get back."

"Doing the actual research is half the fun."

"I know, but it's your project." She had turned away from him to wash his dish in the sink that was full of lemony scented bubbles so he couldn't read her face, but he could tell from the set of her shoulder she'd made up her mind.

"That I wouldn't be doing if it wasn't for you," he reminded her. He'd done more writing in the month or so he'd known her than he had done in the ten years since the idea first came to him.

"That's not true," she said as she moved about the small space, putting plates and cooking utensils back into their place after drying them with a towel decorated with cutesy little owls. "You would've gotten around to it."

He had to laugh at that. She hadn't known him long enough to understand he could be a world class procrastinator when it came to certain things in his life. "Oh, Demelza, the faith you have in me is so misguided."

"No, it's not." She stopped to lean back against the counter to look at him with serious blue eyes.

"It's not for a few weeks yet," Ross said, backing down a bit before he could truly upset her. There was one thing he could not abide by and that was her tears. "Promise me you'll at least think on it?"

"I promise to think on it," she finally conceded.


Ross found himself in hell a week later.

Not only was deprived of Demelza's company, he was being subjected to vapid tarts from London and having his every action scrutinized by his best mate's wife at a gathering that had been billed to him as a dinner party. The invitation had been left dangling as if Caroline had expected him to say he wanted to bring someone. He was not ready to share Demelza with anyone just yet. He was selfish like that.

Ross sought refuge in a dark room on the east corridor with a spectacular view of the sculpture garden at Killewarren after suffering through the longest meal of his life. Thankfully copious amounts of alcohol had been flowing all evening otherwise he might have had to do something drastic which would've ended up embarrassing his hosts.

"As bad as all that?" Dwight asked as he slipped into the quiet library and shut the door behind him.

"Do you even have to ask?" Ross slipped his phone back into his pocket before he could read Demelza's latest text. She was the only reason he had been able to tolerate the evening thus far.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Dwight offered.

"I don't think there is enough brain power between the three of them to form a single intelligent thought. Is that what your wife really thinks of me?"

Dwight came to stand beside him at the window. "I tried to warn Caroline you'd not like it, but she insisted."

The phone in his pocket buzzed again just as he snorted his displeasure at his friend's words. His finger itched to grab it so he could see what amusing thing Demelza had sent him now. "She needs to stop."

"She only wants to see you happy, Ross."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "I know. It's the only reason I've not murdered her yet."

"I appreciate that." Dwight patted his shoulder in commiseration.

"I figured you would," Ross said dryly. As much as he enjoyed Dwight's company most of the time, he just really wanted his friend to go away so he could respond to Demelza.

"Caroline was rather hoping you'd take enough shine to one of them to get yourself laid."

Ross closed his eyes and counted to twenty before he spoke. "Please tell me you're fucking joking."

"I told her you'd be rather put out," Dwight conceded, "but she means well, really."

"Means well?" he growled, knowing he was not going to like whatever answer was to come out of his mate's mouth.

Dwight put on his best soothing doctor's voice; the one he reserved for giving bad news like you've only two days to live. "You could use some female companionship without the strings attached."

"I'm fine, thanks." Ross rubbed that little spot between his eyes that was starting to throb. He was definitely not going to tell Demelza about this when they compared notes about their respective weekends.

"She had this notion, silly really, that you had a shag buddy," Dwight chuckled.

Ross's hard look choked the laugh into silence. "A what?"

"To be fair, you've been unavailable with increasing frequency these past few weeks."

"I've been doing research."

"I told Caroline that there was no way, but she wasn't convinced until she ran afoul of your mood."

"My mood?" Ross all but spluttered, although he shouldn't have been surprised at Caroline's conclusion. That was just how her mind worked.

"Yes," his mate said, suddenly finding the pattern in the old Turkish carpet very interesting, "she figured if you had someone tucked away you'd not be so grumpy because you'd be getting shagged regularly."

"What the actual fuck?"

"I did try to warn her, but you know how she can be when she sets her mind to something."

"How well I know." Ross scrubbed his hands over his face, grumbling the whole while. Was it any wonder he wasn't ready to share Demelza with his closest friends? Caroline would most definitely get the wrong impression and he would never hear the end of it. Dwight would be caught in the middle. And Demelza...she'd be completely mortified.

"I'm leaving," he said after finally making up his mind. "Please give my apologies to Caroline for my great escape." He just wanted to go home, have a stiff drink, and text back and forth with Demelza for the rest of the night.

"I'll ring you tomorrow, yeah?" Dwight asked while unlatching the French doors for Ross to slip out without being seen. "I'll talk to Caroline. This won't happen again, I promise."


He wasn't sure how it all started, this meeting secretly in the stacks, sometimes during his planning period and other times during the lunch hour. They mixed it up to throw Verity off their trail. It started out innocently enough as a little game, but then it had become their thing. He enjoyed the feeling of sneaking around under everyone's noses for few purloined minutes with Demelza during the workday. It was most exciting.

Which in turn lead directly to him being completely unable to stop thinking about what it might be like to kiss her. He found her attractive to be sure, tall and slender, with legs that seemed like they went on for miles. She mostly wore knee length skirts at work, but the skinny jeans she wore when they took in a film the previous Friday night was enough to nearly slay him. She was awkward and adorable, prone to hopping or skipping along, singing all the while when she was happy. It was all very endearing.

And Ross found himself wasting a lot of his free time out of her company wondering if her natural joyfulness would rub off on him. It had to because that much happiness could not be contained in just one person. It just couldn't. She was definitely an inspiration if her life had been half as bad as he imagined from what little he could gather.

"Hullo," she staged whispered, hopping to a stop right in front of him in the middle of the German literature section, a stunning smile lit her entire being. Thankfully no one would bother them there.

It felt so good to be in her presence again after having to forgo her company all weekend. The constant texting helped a little. "Hullo, yourself," he said more gruffly than he intended.

"Did you miss me?" she asked, blue eyes twinkling with delight. He knew she knew he did. She had missed him too. She'd had said so. Twice. Not that he was counting or anything.

"Not in the least."

"Liar."

"You're in an exceptionally good mood. Had a good visit with your brother did you?" He'd found having to share her, even with her brother, was not something he particularly cared for at all.

"Oh yes! Drake is doing very well!" She rocked on the balls of her feet, unable to contain herself. "He's been invited to show his term project at an engineering conference in London."

"That's impressive?"

"I'd dearly love to go, but, well, you know." She smiled ruefully.

Her nearly dire financial situation was no secret by this point. She was sacrificing everything for her brother to get the best education possible. Ross did what he could without embarrassing her, but it was times like these that he wished he could do more. She should be in London to see her brother's triumph. "Is he set then?"

She nodded and he could see the relief on her face. "Yes, it's fully funded by the London School of Engineering."

"That's good at least."

"Yes." She straightened up a shelf of books that didn't need it as she spoke. "Enough about me. What did you do this weekend?"

"Nothing much really. Had dinner with some friends. I was bored out of my mind." There was no way in hell Ross was going to tell her he'd spent Saturday evening fending off the advances of three women determined to shag him senseless.

"More boring than hanging about my flat?" she inquired, watching for his response out of the corner of her eye.

"It's not boring, Demelza," he was quick to reassure her and was rewarded with one of her special smiles. "Never ever think that."

"Did you get any writing done at least?" She was always on him about working on his book. It wasn't nagging exactly, but it was almost as if she had a vested interest in him finishing as much as he had. She wanted to know how the story ended was what she'd always say when he balked.

"No, but I did talk to my father about the letters on Sunday afternoon. It was useful I think. He enlightened me on the family tree."

"That's good." Demelza leaned back against the stacks and looked up at him, the open invitation was obvious.

"There's some rather scandalous history there," Ross bragged to distract himself from gawking at her lovely form on display in front of him. The light blue jumper clung to her figure just so and it was distracting.

Demelza perked up. "Is there now?"

"Oh, yes, Jeremy's mother was a scullery maid in his father's employ and later married on a whim."

"That is rather scandalous."

"Papa said she went on to become a well-respected lady in the district."

"Speaking of your father," Demelza said, turning big doe eyes on him that made his knees weak enough he had to put a hand on a shelf to keep himself steady. "When do I get to meet him?"

"Never," he said with a good-natured huff, trying to play it off. Truth be told, he just wasn't ready to deal with all that would entail. "I don't want to scare you off."

"He cannot be that bad."

"You don't know him like I do." Meaning that he didn't want competition for Demelza's attentions because as soon as his father set eyes on her, it was going to be over for him. His father's legendary pursuit of the beautiful women in the district had come to halt with his stroke, but Demelza might be enough to rouse him from hibernation. Joshua had had a way with women that somehow had not rubbed off on Ross and he didn't want to tempt fate.

"I don't know him at all," she complained and gave him a cold shoulder, "and I want to see Nampara too."

"You will," he said, buckling under immediately, anything to make her happy. "Soon. I promise. I'll take you out there one weekend soon. You can meet Papa and see the house."

She leaned back against the stacks again, tucking her hands behind her and smiling now that she'd won her concession from him. He truly was a lamb to slaughter when it came to her. "And the beach?" she prodded.

"If you like, but I will warn you it's cold and nasty this time of year and the sea is rough." He'd worry about how to negotiate the steep set of stairs that lead down to the beach when the time came.

"I bet it's beautiful."

"It is," he agreed, knowing it was true. Autumn was his favorite time of year with the often broiling grey skies and heavy surf crashing into the rugged rocks. It was as beautiful as it was savage.

"I should get back before Verity comes looking for me." She reached for his hand. "It wouldn't do for her to catch us in the stacks. She might get the wrong idea."

"I got the lemon biscuits you left in my box this morning. Thank you," he said giving her small hand a quick squeeze before letting go. It was how they parted ways.

Demelza lingered a moment, not moving, with their hands barely touching. "I know they're your favorite," she said simply, leaning up to press a quick feather-light kiss his cheek before hurriedly disappearing into the maze of book stacks.

He lingered for a while longer in stunned silence, fingers pressed against the tingling spot where her soft lips had touched his skin.


Recipes for the food mentioned in the chapter:

Sausage, potato, and kale frittata

recipes/potato-sausage-and-kale-frittata

Oatmeal bread

recipes/oatmeal-toasting-and-sandwich-bread-recipe

Lemon biscuits

/recipe/10568/lemon-chewy-crisps/