Chapter Two
Poldark Wedding
I waited by the door to Ross's house. There was no answer. Not even one of his servants came to the door. That is, if he had any. I told mama that I would be in town shopping for a wedding gift to Elizabeth. I half lied. I did get one, but then came here. It had been days since I've seen Ross. Elizabeth's wedding is in a few days and I know he is tormented by it.
I'm not here to comfort him in a way people would think. A woman going a lone to a man's house. The sun was beginning to set. No. I'm here to see Ross. I was always good at reading his face when we were growing up together. I hope I still am.
"Sylvia?" I heard my name called and I turned to the voice.
Ross was walking back from wherever he came from. His coat was flung over his shoulder.
"Hello, Ross." I say with a gentle smile. "I know it's late, but I wanted to come see you. You hadn't returned a letter to me. I worried so I came here."
"I haven't received a letter from you. I'm sorry. I would have replied." He walked a little passed me to unlock his door. "How come you were outside?"
"No one answered the door and I don't know how to pick a lock." I say with a slight smirk.
"Oh no. There's one thing you can't do?" He gestured for me to come in.
"Are your fathers' servants not around anymore?"
"They are…and trust me, I am not happy with them. They had you wait outside."
We walked in the dinning area and saw Prudie sleeping with her head on the table. Jud was on the floor, passed out from drink.
"I guess I didn't knock loud enough." I say a little annoyed.
I saw Ross go towards the table and slam both hands down on the table hard. Ouch.
Both of them jumped up at the sound. Prudie was to her feet faster than Jud.
"I would have you both know that Sylvia had been waiting outside for someone to let her in. There are some things I will ignore but that isn't one of them. Ten lashings to the both of you."
"No!" I say and grab his arm. "It's fine. I wasn't waiting that long. Honest." I plead.
He stared at me for a good second before nodding. "Okay, but-" He looked to them now. "If it happens again, it'll be twenty."
They both nodded in agreement.
"Would ye like some refreshment?" Prudie asked.
"Yes, please." I say and walk over to the fireplace and have a seat.
Ross sat across from me and stared at the fire in silence. He was in deep thought and it was different to read him. There were changes that happened to him. The war must have done something to him.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask him.
"About what?" He replied, not looking away from the fire.
"Your father, the war, the mine, the house…the wedding…" I list out and he looked up at me.
"I appreciate your kindness, but it isn't necessary. Besides, the war is something you don't need to hear about. You're one of the few people I wish to separate those memories from. I don't want to tarnish your good spirit with that darkness."
"You don't have to talk about it, but I wish you would let me do something to comfort you. Let me help. You want a good meal? I'll make you one. You want a hug? I'm there. You need someone to speak your ears off? Yep. You need someone to listen? Here I am. I don't want things to change between us just because you were gone. You're still my Ross…and I am still your Sylvia."
"Sylvia…" He got down onto his knees in front of me and took my hands in his. "I promise you that I am okay. Over the years I have learned to be on my own. I know when I am at my limits."
I frown a bit. "Now you don't have to be alone."
"And I have you to thank for that. In the meantime, I am okay. If I need something, I will get ahold of you."
"You better, Poldark…"
Verity, Ross, and I were walking together to the Poldark family home. A carriage went by us and I noticed who was inside. George and Cary Warleggan. Possibly two of the cruelest humans on this planet.
George attended school with Ross. I remember growing up and playing with him, Francis, and Ross. He wasn't very open with us and didn't seem to like any of us. Being the older one of the group, George wasn't much of a leader. He was teased a lot. He deserved it at the time, but now I understand why he is such a piece of work.
George and is Uncle Cary are both bankers. Grandfather was a blacksmith in St. Day. Their goal is to pretty much own everyone while having a Warleggan Bank. He was always jealous of Ross's wealth and found Ross very irritating. Everyone knows that Ross doesn't care for his wealth. He knows it is necessary, but he doesn't live life around it.
Cary likes to fuel the hatred George has. According to rumors, George is disappointed that Ross wasn't dead. However, now that he is back, he plans on ruining Ross even more. That doesn't surprise me one bit. I won't let it happen.
"George has done well for himself." Ross spoke to us.
"As you'll discover, the Warleggan's are on the rise." Verity replied.
"A lot of families owe money to them. My family, fortunately, does not. We still bank with Pascoe and another bank in London." I say as I fix my eyes on George.
He was staring, more like glaring, at us. He's irritating to look at.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is a proud day for the Poldark's." Charles Poldark announced to his guests.
Celebrating the wedding of Francis and Elizabeth wasn't really what I wanted to do today. My mother had me come. She insisted so that I could meet a man there. Of course, she wanted that.
Music started to play as the bride and groom walked into the center of the room to have their first dance as a married couple. She was stunning in her white dress. Her hair pinned back, showing her delicate face.
It made me a little bit envious of her, but that's just the wine speaking. I'm not much of a drinker, but I've allowed myself to indulge in a drink or two.
"I wish you could dance, Ross." Varity spoke.
"I thank an American musket for sparing me the ordeal."
"Perhaps I should have purchased her for you, Nephew." An older gentleman's voice spoke next to us.
"I broker my own business these days."
I glance over and spot George and Cary speaking to one another.
Cary began to speak as if no one would hear their conversation and if they did, he wouldn't care. "Well, she'll be wasted here. These Poldark's have nothing beyond the name. Mine on its knees and mortgaged to the hilt, Warleggan's Bank may send in the bailiffs as and when it chooses."
"This is elegant talk for a wedding, Uncle!" George interrupted.
"The talk of a profit is always elegant, George."
Ross stormed out before Cary could finish his sentence. I walked in front of the two men and glared up at them.
"People are not profits." I spat out to Cary. "You should head off to London where you could learn some manners as a gentleman. Of course, with a man of your age, I don't see there will be any change from you. Stuck in your ways." I walk off before he had a chance to speak back to me
I walked with my mother to a family room when the men started a cock fight. Sports don't interest me in the slightest. I smiled a little when I spotted Ross and Elizabeth speaking to each other in the room.
"We shall be neighbors and friends, Ross?" She asked with sadness and hopefulness in her eyes.
"If you say so." He forced a smile at her.
"Feeling neglected?" Francis spoke when he walked into the room. He held out a hand to her. "May I take my bride, Ross?"
"By all means." Ross said as he rose a glass of wine.
"Sylvia, I need to have a word with you about a suitable suitor." My mother said and took me to the fireplace.
We sat down in the chairs and I couldn't help but feel Ross's eyes on the back of my head.
"Mother, we spoke of this already. I don't want to be married. Not yet."
"You're growing old. You need to marry and have kids. I want grandchildren while I am alive." She paused for a moment. "I know you don't particularly like this man, but I and his Uncle have arranged for you two to sit down and have dinner together tonight."
"Who?" I ask and furrowed my brows.
"George Warleggan."
I sat there dumbfounded. I couldn't speak because I didn't know what to say first. There ws so much I wanted to scream out at her.
I heard a cup be put down and boots hitting against the wooden floors. Ross was out the room before I had time to collect my thoughts.
"Will you just have dinner with him? Try?"
"No. Mother, he is absolutely rude. I will not be a Warleggan."
"The Warleggans are not pleasant to be around, but they have money. Your father and I weren't blessed with a son or any other children. Our legacy is on you. Your father can't continue with these long rides back and forth from here and London. We need to have you married soon, or you will come to London with us and we will find you a man there." She stood up and glared at me. "I know you have feelings for Ross, but he is poor now. He has no income and will make a poor choice of a husband. When I married your father, I did not love him. Marriage isn't for love. It's a contract. It's time for you to stop dreaming and face reality." She picked up her dress a bit and walked away.
I stared at the fire when she left. I felt cold and numb.
Is it that obvious that my heart belongs to him? I don't want George. I want Ross to be my husband.
It was at that moment Ross walked in the room, searching for someone. Were our hearts connected? Could he sense my distress? No. That is foolish thinking of me. I can't help but feel this way though.
I love him.