Hours passed, and both Dwight and Demelza noticed Ross's silent, dark mood, though they both pondered were it not his thoughts of his family's home being destroyed which caused such a bitter countenance.
Once it was decided that Elizabeth was recovered enough to be transported to her mother's home, Dwight took it upon himself to deliver her there and be the bearer of the news. He had hoped Ross would accompany him as he explained the ordeal of the rescue of her daughter. Ross had declined to acquiesce to such a confrontation. He knew Mrs. Chynoweth to be a shrew who embodied aristocratic snobbery at its most wicked. His discovering Elizabeth's offer of marriage kept Ross silent and distant.
A week passed, and Ross had not received any word or heard tell of Elizabeth's acceptance of George Warleggan's hand. There was talk George remained in wait of her reply.
Non-serendipitously, he met George Warleggan on the road that day as he rode horseback to work at the mine.
"Ah, Ross." George smirked. "I'm sure you by now have become aware that I intend to make Elizabeth my bride." George spoke abruptly as if to irk Ross immediately.
"Yes, George," Ross responded, "however I am not aware that she has accepted." Ross smiled vengefully, "She will not." Ross quickly muttered. "Good day to you." Ross snarked but the anger at seeing the smug look on George's face set him off. His thoughts filled him with rage. He turned his horse in the direction of the Chynoweth home.
He brooded, and it was enough. He could not bear the thought of Elizabeth and George as man and wife. Elizabeth and Francis was more than he could bear, but Elizabeth and George was an entirely more hellish doom and nightmare.
Ross dismounted his horse and banged at the door. "Elizabeth!" He bellowed.
A servant answered and opened the door instead.
"Sir, if your intention is to see Mistress Elizabeth, you cannot. She is resting."
Ross pushed through the doorway and passed. "She will see me now." He forcefully spoke.
Elizabeth lay upon a chaise longue in her bedroom. She heard footsteps approach.
Ross burst through her door the next moment.
The servant had run up behind him. "Mistress, I tried to stop him, but..."
"It's all right, James." Elizabeth assured him.
"This is not proper, Sir. I beg ye leave now!" The servant pleaded.
"I shall not!" Ross answered. "You shall leave us now!"
The servant looked to Elizabeth that she might request Ross to leave herself, but she did not.
"James, Captain Poldark obviously came upon some urgent errand. He wishes to speak with me. I trust he will not harm me. You may leave us."
The servant's voice cracked nervously, "As you wish, Mum." He shut the door.
"Say you will not marry George!" Ross commanded.
"What?" Elizabeth replied as if to chide Ross for his order.
"Say it, Elizabeth! You do not love him. I seem to recall your confession that it was I you have always loved!"
"Ross," Elizabeth's heart raced, and she flushed a pale shade of crimson.
"What good is that now, Ross!"
"Take your pick of any man but him."
"Oh, so I must have your blessing, must I?"
"George seeks to possess your body to torture me."
Elizabeth's eyes became glossy with surprise at his crudeness.
"And what do you seek, Ross? Please, leave. Go now."
"I won't leave until I am assured of your refusal to marry him."
"How can I...What can you...". Elizabeth was interrupted as Ross lurched at her and passionately kissed her. She shoved him to break the kiss bewildered and wide-eyed.
Silence ensued as they stared at each other for a long bewitched moment. Then, suddenly, Elizabeth lunged at Ross and initiated a kiss with more fury-a feverish urge from years of repressed passion. They broke apart again and were silent. Then, their lips reciprocated a kiss connecting harshly once more, and soon Elizabeth latched on to Ross's body with a need too urgent to deny. He lay her down upon her bed. He pulled at her gown to expose her shoulders first, and she tugged at his hair as his lips nipped at the skin of her neck and shoulder and then traveled down her chest. She held on to him. She knew not what came over her-something which she never allowed herself to act upon before. His hand traveled up her thigh. He undressed her, but her reserved composure and shyness was no more. She embraced Ross more harshly against her body now wanting him to take her. He responded to her unbridled desire. Again and then again, they shifted positions upon the bed. Elizabeth moaned in ecstasy. Her body arched to his. She began to seemingly massage the small of Ross's back. Her hands then moved to explore the sculpted and toned muscularture of his shoulders, arms, and back. What was this intoxication? Elizabeth never experienced such intimate pleasure as to elicit such a reaction. The fire of Ross and Elizabeth's once repressed passion now unleashed caused their true worldly existence to be forgotten for that night.