"How much longer before you pop?" Ross asked his cousin with a laugh. The evening had been much more enjoyable than he had anticipated when he'd promised Demelza an evening with the Blameys. She'd wanted to do a little reconnoiter in the guise of a Saturday evening dinner. There were plans afoot to fill cabinets and the freezer with necessities and ready meals.

"Believe it or not," Verity said with a tired sigh, "another three weeks."

"Are you going to make it?"

"That's debatable."

"Are you ready?"

It was her turn to laugh. "How prepared can one be for something like this?"

"I have no idea," he answered honestly, having never really given any serious thought to the idea of children. It was always something that would happen later, when he'd found the right woman.

Verity picked up a bit of crochet to work on as they waited for Andrew and Demelza to rejoin them with coffee and a chocolate velvet cake for dessert. They were in the kitchen doing the wash up. "You do what you can and hope for the best," she said with a smile.

"Seems perilous."

"That's life."

"I'd offer help, but I don't know what I could do."

"I'm sure something will come up," she assured him with what he thought was a knowing smile, "but I know you've been busy."

The plan in place seemed to be he would ferry Demelza about in her pursuit to do everything she possibly could for Verity. He was okay with that. The more time spent with Demelza was all to the better. It didn't matter if they were sitting in a room together for hours, not saying a word, or running about doing errands. "You know how it is in the run up to the holidays," Ross mused, hoping to keep the attention off of him. His cousin loved this time of year. Him, not so much.

"I do," Verity agreed fondly. "Although I don't think I'll miss it."

"I should think not. You'll be preoccupied."

She hummed a little. "You seem a little preoccupied these days yourself."

Ross stiffened, knowing exactly where this turn of the conversation was headed. To be fair to Verity, she had not really asked him about Demelza, but then again she did have another source. "Do I ?"

"More relaxed at least." His cousin rested her needlework atop her baby bump as she spoke. "Demelza has been good for you."

And there it was. He knew this was coming as soon as he accepted the invitation to dinner. Verity had barely waited for Demelza to leave the room with Andrew. Ross had to wonder if they'd planned ahead to separate the two of them for interrogation. "We enjoy one another's company."

Verity smiled as brightly as the noonday sun shone. "That was what I'd hoped."

"Don't go making any plans," he groused, suddenly feeling irritable after what had been a very pleasant evening up to that point. "I can see it in your eyes. We're friends and nothing more."

"Of course," she said demurely. "It's just good to see you getting out of that stuffy old house."

That he couldn't argue. Nampara was stuffy and old, in shambles too, but it was as much a part of him as the bones in his body. Ross couldn't imagine a life anywhere else. "I like it there."

"Speaking of home, how is Uncle Joshua?"

"As well as can be expected for ignoring all of Dwight's advice," Ross huffed. "Stubborn old man."

"I should give him a ring to apologize for not being out to see him." She went back to absently working on the baby blanket she was crocheting, barely having to look down at her hands.

He glared at her, not trusting her as far as he could toss her. "Don't go talking to my father about her either. I don't need the codgy bugger meddling any more than he already is."

"As you wish, cousin," Verity replied dutifully. "I would never betray your confidence."

"I know that." And he did. Verity was the most loyal person he'd ever known, but in this it seemed everyone was ganging up on him. "It's just you know how he is."

"I do."

"Then you understand."

"You want to keep her to yourself a bit longer."

"Exactly."

He was saved from having to further deny his feelings by the timely appearance of Demelza bearing a tray with her cake and Andrew following with the coffee.

"I don't think she's going to make it," Demelza said after he shut his car door and did up the seat belt. They had stayed much later than he had originally intended, with everyone having such a good time no one wanted to break up the party. That is, until Andrew finally sent them packing when Verity could no longer keep her eyes open.

"Why do you say that?"

"Just a feeling."

He started the engine and backed out carefully onto the narrow street, all the while trying not to imagine Demelza in the same predicament as his cousin. That was one rabbit hole he definitely needed to avoid for his own sanity. It was becoming more of a struggle everyday to remind himself that he was no good for Demelza. She deserved much better. "Verity looks about done," he said.

"She's just ready to meet her son," she said wistfully. "I can't blame her. I would be too."

"You think about babies?" The question was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. That was an unfortunate problem that was quickly becoming a nasty habit.

"Sometimes." She leaned back against the seat and turned her head to look at him. "I suppose all women do at some point in their lives. Haven't you, at least once?"

"No, not really," Ross said, then thought better of his answer. "I suppose in some far off way. I just assume children would be part of the package if I ever got married."

Demelza jumped a little, startled when her phone buzzed, picking it up from the console where she'd plugged it in to charge and looked at the screen before frowning and quickly shoving it deep in her purse. It was odd behavior for her. "You don't think you'll ever get married?" she asked, almost a little too breezily.

"I don't know," Ross answered with a shrug, his spidey-sense tingling, but distracted by the very dangerous turn the conversation just took. His feelings about Elizabeth were complicated and surely not a topic of conversation with Demelza. "I almost did once, get married that is. It ended badly."

"Oh," she gasped softly, glancing at him with what he was sure to be pity. He didn't know how much information, if any, Verity had relayed about his previous attachment to the local socialite now married to her brother. Demelza put a gentle hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I can't imagine how awful that must have been."

Ross drew in a sobering breath. The sharp stab to his heart any time Elizabeth was mentioned had dulled over time, but had never left him completely. "I was young and stupid."

She gave his arm a little squeeze before releasing him. "We all were at one time."

"I swore I would never put myself in that position ever again." The oath he'd made to himself after he'd recovered from the bender to end all benders didn't hold quite as much allegiance as it one had. Time and distance had given him some clarity on the whole situation, but so did nearly getting killed.

"That's understandable," Demelza responded softly.

He wanted to be angry at her quiet understanding; for her not wanting to know all of the gory details. She had no right to be that way, but there she was and Ross just couldn't find it in himself to summon the energy. It was just like when they were first getting to know one another and she didn't pry about his injured leg. She just let it lie for when he was ready to tell her.

The rest of the drive to her flat was quiet between them, each lost in their own thoughts. He desperately wanted to know what she was thinking, but it also scared him. He was more than aware of Caroline's opinion since she was unafraid to share it, and Demelza's forthrightness was only second to hers, but in a kinder, more gentle way. Still, he wasn't sure if he was in any way prepared to hear it.

Ross leaned back against the back of the sofa in Demelza's cozy living room, closing his eyes and groaning as he stretched out his stiff leg. Demelza's toes wiggled beneath his thigh where she'd tucked her bare feet hours ago. They'd been nearly silent since coming home from the farmer's market and each diving into their respective projects. He'd spent the afternoon marking papers while she worked on a bit of needlework. It was comfortable and familiar.

And he was very thankful for that after the revelations of the previous weekend. Things had been awkward between them for a few days, but that had been mostly on his side. Even his father had noticed and queried him about his demeanor. Demelza was her normal cheerful self, even had made him lemon-poppy seed scones. He did not deserve her.

Demelza gave him a soft smile that made his heart stutter before putting her things in the basket on the table and gracefully got up to pad to the kitchen at the back of her flat. He returned his attention to the thick stack of papers in his lap after she was out of sight and the sounds of preparing a meal permeated the quiet. They were having herbed chicken and asparagus for dinner. It was some one pan recipe she'd found in a magazine and was excited to give it a go. Normally he would have balked at the asparagus, but he had learned quickly that he ate what was put before him or he could go hungry as far as she was concerned. He liked a lot more food stuff than he ever imagined he would, especially vegetables. What would his mother have said if she could've seen him now?

He was jolted when her phone vibrated on the table. It started up again almost as soon as it had stopped. Curiosity got the best of him when it happened again a few minutes later, and he picked up the phone to see who was so desperately trying to get in touch with Demelza. It could be her younger brother away at school and needing her, but it was a number that was not in her contacts. There were several unheard voicemails as well.

Something was wrong, Ross could feel the dread starting to gnaw at the pit of his stomach. He thought he knew Demelza well enough at this point, and it was not in her nature to be secretive about things. Now that he was armed with this scant knowledge, he was unsure how to broach the subject since he didn't want to alienate her if something truly was amiss.

"Demelza," Ross started after watching her nibble on her thumbnail for the past quarter of an hour after they had retired to the sitting room post-dinner clean up, "is something wrong?" Now was as good a time as any, he thought. She seemed in distress.

She immediately sat up straight and smoothed her hands on her jeans, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "No, nothing at all, Ross."

One dark brow shot up. Didn't this woman know he taught teenagers for a living? He could spot a lie at fifty paces and it didn't matter what it was about. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said with a nod, but nearly jumped out of her skin when her mobile buzzed from where it was tucked beneath her thigh. He watched as she looked at the display and frowned, quickly pressing the button to ignore the call and shove it back down between her leg and the sofa.

"Is that Drake calling?" he asked, growing more concerned with her continued odd behavior. Ross knew she hadn't told her brother about him, not that there was anything to tell really. They were just friends, but for some reason she was hesitant. From what he understood Drake was a good lad, smart, and well-behaved despite his upbringing, much like his sister. He was very interested in finally meeting the young man.

"No," she answered, taking up her crochet basket and began rooting around in it. "He's studying for end of term exams."

"You can answer it if it is," he watched her reaction out of the corner of his eye while he pretended to mark another paper. "You know I'd be quiet."

"I know you would." Her jaw tightened as he spoke, clearly irritated, but she kept her focus on the yarn she was fiddling with. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"Just something I'm having to deal with."

Ross had to fight back a growl as his anger flared up, only because it was obvious she was not going to be forthcoming with him and he didn't want to frighten her.. They fell into silence again as she set to work on one of the projects in her basket and the words on the paper in front of him began to blur as his frustration finally got the best of him after watching her jump twice more. "Demelza," he tried one again while trying his level best to remain calm, "you can tell me anything. You know that right?"

She looked up at him finally, blue eyes shiny with unshed tears. "I wish I could, Ross, but I can't."

"Why not?" he insisted.

"Because I need to do this on my own," she said firmly. "Can we talk about something else?"

Ross took a seat in a booth nearest the telly in the back playing the England friendly while Dwight fetched two pints from the bar. It was rare he went out on a work night, but he hadn't seen his mate since that disastrous dinner party when Caroline tried to not-so-subtly set him up with one or more of her acquaintances from London. Once he'd gotten over his initial irritation, Ross could appreciate the lengths his best friends would go to see him happy. Well, almost.

"Ten quid on the Netherlands," Dwight said, putting down the two glasses and taking a seat on the bench across from him.

"Ha," Ross snorted after several long sips of his pint. "Leave me with England. What sort of fool do you think I am?"

Dwight laughed, but his eyes were sizing him up. "Had to try didn't I?"

"Some friend you are."

"Caroline wouldn't have been so subtle."

"No," Ross said with a snort, "I don't believe she would've been."

"She does mean well," Dwight said, digging into the burger the waitress had put before him moments before.

"It's the only reason I've not murdered her yet," Ross said dryly, tucking into his bangers and mash. It had been a long joke between the three of them. Caroline Penvenen-Ennis was a force of nature, hiding her soft heart beneath a haughty exterior, much to his irritation. No one was more surprised than him when his best mate fell head-over-heels for the local heiress, but somehow they made it work.

"She's sure you're put out with her after the dinner debacle and that's why you've not been around to the house. Caroline does feel badly about that."

"It's not that." Mostly anyway. If anyone could surmise what he'd been up to, it would be his mate's wife. The only reason she hadn't sussed out the truth was because he was avoiding her at all costs. "I've finally decided to get serious about writing a book."

"Really?" Dwight queried, eyebrows raised in surprise. "I knew you'd talked about it a while back."

"I figured I wasn't getting any younger." He could see the wheels turning in Dwight's mind as he chewed on that bit of information. His father could have easily shared any suspicions he had just to see if Dwight knew anything. It really was all a big house of cards just waiting to come crashing down on him.

Thankfully England for once decided to do him a favor and score in the 18th minute, and it was enough to derail the conversation. The Netherlands scored twice after the 35th minute and really put a damper on the mood of the pub going into the half. Typical though, and no one who followed England should've been surprised, least of all Ross. He was prepared for disappointment even before the match began.

"It's not just writing that has kept you busy these past weeks has it?" Dwight asked him rather baldly. He'd naturally waited until they were deep into their second pint though before launching that particular volley.

"No," Ross admitted, "not entirely." Theoretically he knew he would not be able to keep his friendship with Demelza a secret forever, but he was selfish enough to want to try to keep the outside world from infringing upon whatever it was that was happening between them. It was only when he was in his cups that he could finally admit to himself that his darkest fear was she'd find someone else she liked better to spend her time with. He knew he was not the easiest man to be around.

"Please tell me it's a woman," Dwight implored, looking at him with imploring blue eyes.

He tossed back the last of his pint before answering. "Would it make any difference if it wasn't?"

"Yeah," his mate said, frowning, "about a hundred quid."

Ross dropped his glass to the table with a thunk, torn between being somewhat amused and slightly miffed. "I cannot believe you and your wife wager on my love life."

"Well, you haven't left us much of a choice." Dwight at least looked slightly ashamed. "You don't tell us anything so we have to speculate."

"Is that what you call it these days?"

His friend squirmed a bit in his seat. "Well, Joshua said he thought you were seeing someone."

That came as no surprise. His father was a meddlesome old man. There was no telling what he'd told Caroline during their standing Tuesday afternoon teas. "Did he now?" Ross asked, slightly irritated.

"He only wants what's best for you," Dwight answered.

Ross knew what was being left unsaid. His father was deeply concerned he was going to end up arse-over-heels in love with another woman who wouldn't think twice of tossing him over. His closest friends felt the same. They were wrong. "If that were true, he'd let sleeping dogs lie."

"So how long?"

"A while."

"That so?" Dwight had tried to sound casual in asking the question, but he had failed spectacularly.

Ross wanted to nip any more speculation in the bud. "It's not what you think."

"Caroline will be disappointed if none of her theories pan out."

"I'm sorry to be a disappointment." He could just imagine what her theories were like, each one wilder than the next, with his father helping her embellish. Ross decided he needed better friends if this is what he was going to have to put up with.

Dwighted prodded, "You've got to give me something. Do you know what it'll be like for me if I go home empty handed?"

"She's just a friend who is helping me with some research."

"Research?" his mate threw his head back and laughed. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"