At last, Ross shoved the other man away to the footman, who caught the careening Captain MacNeil with little grace and a slight groan. The servant held fast to him, but he easily struggled loose to turn to Ross across the room, the light of the fire casting an orange glow on his face as it burned behind Ross, casting him in imposing shadow, both men heaving from effort, bloodied and riled.

"There, now keep your distance from one another!" Sir Hugh warned, stepping closer as to block their paths. He looked over his shoulder to the huffing Captain MacNeil, then turned his eyes upon the new entrant to his house and steeled a grim look at him. "How very kind of you to grace us with your presence, Captain Poldark. You may forgive some of us for not expecting you tonight," he said it with a kind of judgement in his clipped, terse tone, and Demelza for once did wonder at the hidden intelligence in the gentleman.

The fire was still burning, but it was clear that Sir Bodrugan could tell which was the greater threat to his property, and he looked upon it with undivided attention – regarding Ross warily.

Ross took a long step closer to MacNeil, who still stared at him, but found Sir Hugh in his way and paused. "Not those who would take advantage of it," Ross replied menacingly, almost going to spit blood on the floor, then looked at the host and slowly raised his sleeve to wipe at his bloodied nose instead.

Behind them, the other footman came in with a pail of water and doused awkwardly at the burning curtain, which had smouldered to the metal curtain rod and fell to the floor as soon as the weight of the water bared upon it. He doused more water upon the fallen fabric and the room fell eerily dark.

"Yes, well ..." Bodrugan breathed into the tense silence, trying to regain Poldark's attention, "I appear to have failed as host at the last hurdle, but with any gathering there is a mess to clean up afterwards," he laid the displeasure on heavy, hoping to distract Ross' fury with guilt. "I believe it is best if Captain MacNeil is reunited with his horse, Oliver," he called an order to the footman standing beside MacNeil, and he placed a hand on the soldier's shoulder, which was resentfully shrugged away.

"Yes, sir," the man, presumably Oliver, sounded uncertain.

"I will remove myself, sir," MacNeil ground out, one eye half shut, covered in red and an arm clutched to his stomach, his face twisted in both pain and humiliation.

Ross eased for a moment, as Sir Hugh came to his side a little more to look upon the other man, who paused.

As if it had dawned on him in the moment out of spite, Malcolm allowed a painful wheeze of a laugh and put on a perplexed look, glancing tentatively at Demelza on the bed, still clutching a pillow to herself to hide herself. The glance alone made Demelza cower and Ross start, but Sir Hugh placed a hand on Ross' arm just in time to stop him.

"But if you'll indulge me, Captain Poldark," he rasped, and his voice did not carry quite as it needed to in the room, "and inform me if there are any other ladies I must steer clear of to avoid this conflict again. For your wife did tell me there is another," it was full of malice and challenge.

Sir Hugh seemed the first to startle, and without meaning to, shot his eyes to Ross for confirmation. At the grim look that passed over the Poldark's face, the owner of Werry House, quite without realizing he was going to, swatted the younger man's elbow and breathed, "Good god man, are you mad?"

Ross was not paying attention, still huffing a little for breath, instead turning his eyes toward Demelza, looking pitiful and somehow beautiful in her fearful, vulnerable spot kneeling on the bed, her skirts covering her legs and the pillow covering her torn bodice, but part of her sleeve torn and hanging away to reveal her shoulder, touched gently by errant strands of her auburn locks. She looked mightily guilty for sharing Ross' infidelity with her other suitor, but Ross was wholly distracted by a sudden urge to remove her from all of this, though it did not deter his primary motive.

He took off his greatcoat slowly and Sir Hugh started a little, wondering if Ross meant to come to fisticuffs again. After enough hesitation to make everyone else present quite nervous, he spoke in a deliberate rasp that did not match his unkempt, bloody visage.

"I should like to tell you that you may have your pick of them all, so long as I do not find you sniffing around Demelza again. But I regret that I cannot," he said, sounding far away as he hung the coat by its shoulders before him and slowly moved toward the bed, not taking his eyes off MacNeil, who seemed to smirk at this.

"Ross," Demelza murmured, perhaps hurt by the implication, but she could bear a little insult tonight too, just as he had. As she said it, he laid the coat about her shoulders and pulled it closed around her, only meeting her harrowed eyes briefly, for they filled him with a strange feeling that he would have to sort through later.

"I cannot allow you to go about with what you have done here tonight," Ross said it decisively, but the anger seemed faded. Somehow this stillness in him was more disconcerting than his exposed rage. He turned back toward MacNeil and drew a breath that was heavy with the weight of consequences.

MacNeil stood a little straighter, as if he recognized a shift in Ross' intentions.

"I demand satisfaction," Ross announced calmly.

It was Demelza who reacted first, protesting, followed by Sir Hugh's instant panic, though they went mostly ignored for the fact that MacNeil instantly smirked and replied, "I accept. Of course, Captain Poldark, surely you know that duelling is against the law," in a chiding grimace.

"Then the law is welcome to come after me," Ross challenged.

"Ross, no!" Demelza leant up a little, releasing her pillow now with one hand clutching the coat shut as she grasped for Ross's hand, the blood on them running onto her own fingers. "Look at yourselves, the state of you! The shame is enough from where we stand now - are 'ee not satisfied enough?" she pressed urgently, her desperation spurring her common speech, surprised when he did not take his hand away from her.

"Your wife is wise, Captain Poldark. There is no reason we shouldn't all make it out of this night alive, would you not agree?" Sir Hugh burbled out, pale and agitated now that things were escalating. With clear concern for his property, he added on, "surely we can settle this dispute away from here?"

"Outside," Captain MacNeil said gruffly, the word strange and strangled by his accent.

"Tomorrow!" Sir Hugh interjected helplessly.

"Tonight," Ross snapped, his patience thinning. "Demelza, stay here." He didn't look to her.

"Nay, Ross," she gasped, beginning to sound choked as she realized how serious both men were. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she clutched her husband's sleeve. "Please," she cried, "tis a mistake. I were jealous afore, but death is a mistress who will take you proper Ross – don't leave me like this." She released a tiny sob however, when he slowly pulled his arm away from her.

"I will be back," Ross said hollowly, unable to ascertain any promise to his words.

"Or I will, my sweet," MacNeil chortled, eager at the chance to soothe his humiliation and emboldened by the challenge of the apt shooter he knew Ross Poldark to be. "Twould be a shame to waste the spoils of battle."

Demelza shrank a little, horrified at the suggestion, for a moment forgetting Ross' gentle hands unclasping each of her fingers from his shirt. He felt his breath coming in furious huffs as he turned back to MacNeil. Sir Hugh even balked and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"What an impertinent deviant," Sir Hugh remarked, scandalized.

"I must trouble you for the use of pistols, Sir Hugh," Ross was barely containing the volume of his voice, aware of Bodrugan and now three servants who had come in during the back and forth. Gossip would surely spread, but he had only a singular goal in mind. If he were to die proving to Demelza, to all of high society, what his most valued possession was, he wildly thought it would be a fitting end so close to his recent misstep.

Sir Hugh froze a little when Ross looked at him, and then a wan look of relent took him over. "Dear god in heaven," he said quietly to himself. "Yes, I can see that you must," he allowed, then stood a little more formally and gestured to the door. "Gentlemen, if you will come with me."

Demelza protested quietly, as though she knew it fell on deaf ears as the three men and removed themselves in terse silence – Ross the last one out, refusing to meet her eyes as he shut the door firmly. He wondered if she would lock the door once it was shut, in case the worst happened and MacNeil made good on his taunt, or if she had total faith that her husband was the man returning to her.

If she did, she had more faith than he did. Ross had seen MacNeil blow off three men's heads in the war, and was not uncertain that he couldn't do it again tonight.