The gathering was small and quiet. Those assembled talking in low voices reflecting the solemnity of the occasion. Ross and Demelza did their best to thank and socialize with the friends and family that had come to pay their respects on the loss of Hannah. Dwight most especially for he had been a constant throughout Demelza's pregnancy, never being anything but a true friend. Ross watched his wife smile and nod as people spoke to her, pretending to listen but knowing full well her mind was elsewhere. She held the glass of port he had poured for her delicately but didn't drink. For himself, it was just the opposite, taking one glass of brandy after another and wishing more than anything that he could turn back time, and do things over again. His thoughts went back years: from the death of Julia; to his trial; the news of Jeremy's coming; his reconciliation with Francis and then his folly with his widow; the healing of the wounds that night caused; the birth of a second daughter and the rescue of Dwight which in turn brought Lt. Armitage into their lives. How much of what had occurred in their lives was his doing? Looking back, his actions were more times than not, the reason something affected them.

Ross surveyed the crowd and now wished them gone so that he and Demelza could continue their conversation of before. While she seemed settled and ready to move on, he was not. Yes, she had confessed to betraying him with the young sailor but he still didn't understand why. He didn't want to believe that it was his last meeting with Elizabeth that could drive her to such an extreme and uncharacteristic act. She herself had told him that she left McNeil in a lurch right after his night with Elizabeth so why would she fall now? What was it about Lt. Armitage, other than his being young and having a way with words that would cause Demelza to cross that boundary? He needed to know. Not just so that they could clear the air but because with that act, he felt he didn't know his wife anymore. She didn't seem remorseful and that bothered him as well. After what he put her through and the pain he knew she felt, why would she do the same thing? Was it to spite him? Make him feel the same thing as she did?

He walked to where Demelza now sat quietly by the spinet, her fingers grazing the keys. Putting his hands on her shoulders he bent down to whisper in her ear.

"How are you holding up my love?"

Turning her head to look at him, she had a sad smile on her face and reached up to touch his hand.

"I'm fine Ross. Just a little tired perhaps," she said

"Do you want me to start asking people to leave? I'm sure they would understand," he replied as he took a seat next to her.

"No Ross. We can't do that. Everyone has been so kind and generous. I would feel terrible if we did that."

Her voice was shaky, clearly fighting the tears that threatened to come.

"Nonetheless, I will speak with Dwight who can slowly spread the word. You need your rest. Technically you are still recovering from…."

Ross didn't complete the thought but the message was clear. She was still recovering from Hannah's birth. He rose to find Dwight but not before placing a gentle kiss on her head. Demelza didn't react; she just sat still-lost in her thoughts. Walking around the house, Ross found Dwight in the kitchen with Caroline. He pulled him aside and told him about Demelza. Without needing details, the doctor enlisted both Caroline and Prudie's help in getting the guests to depart. They made sure to do this with as little disturbance as possible to the household. Caroline and Dwight offered to take Clowance for the night while Sam and Drake took Jeremy. Ross hadn't told Demelza of his sending the children to others so they could be alone for he knew she would fight him. She would want them with her but he thought that they could both use one night alone without the interruption of children or chores so they could focus on themselves.

The last guest departing leaving just Dwight, Caroline and Demelza's brothers all of whom were waiting to take the children. Ross went into Demelza, who had not moved from the spinet to tell her what was going on.

"My love?"

She turned around slowly revealing that she had been crying again. Ross pulled her up from the chair and into his embrace. Demelza said nothing but allowed herself to be cradled in his arms. He held on to her tightly, his hands caressing her back as he spoke softly.

"Everyone has gone. I've asked Dwight and Caroline to take Clowance for the night and Jeremy is going with your brothers. I thought you could use one night with no distractions so you could rest. But also I think we should spend some time together. There is still so much left to discuss."

Demelza pulled back to look at her husband. She knew that he meant well but she was not quite sure if she had it in her to continue talking about all they had done. Today was a day of mourning. She didn't know if bringing up Hugh, Elizabeth and all that had passed between was the best idea. Demelza kept this thought to herself as she extracted herself from Ross' embrace so that she could find her children and kiss them goodbye.

Ross kept his eye on her as she hugged their friends and her brothers, and then knelt down to kiss both their children.

"Be good for Aunt Caroline and Uncle Dwight my sweet. And Papa and I will come for you in the morning," she said to Clowance. She then swiveled to Jeremy and repeated the same thing, giving him a hug.

With a final thank you to the adults, Demelza rose and rejoined Ross in the parlor. She picked up the glass of port she abandoned earlier before taking a seat by the fire, her body weary. Seeing she was settled he then went out to his children and bid them goodbye and thanked everyone as well. He then spoke to Prudie who was kind enough to offer to go and stay with the Martins for the night after she tidied up. This would leave them alone at Nampara for the first time in months, perhaps years.

Ross entered the parlor and shut the door behind him. Not knowing how this conversation or how the evening was going pass, he didn't want Prudie hearing anything while she was washing up. Taking another glass of brandy, he took a seat next to Demelza but said nothing. Instead, he stared into the fire, the flames a blend of orange and gold, reminiscent of Demelza's hair when the sun hit it. He turned then to look at his wife. Her head was lowered, her eyes downcast seemingly interested in the burgundy liquid in her glass rather than in him or anything else. Ross was about to say something when he heard a knock on the door. Rising to go open it, Prudie entered to tell him she was done and on her way and would be back tomorrow. Looking past her master to her mistress, she took up the end of her apron and dabbed her eyes, sadness again coming over the room. Ross didn't want her upsetting Demelza so he ushered her out and thanked her for all she'd done. With that, Prudie scurried out of the house letting Ross lock the door behind her.

They were alone at last and Ross was suddenly nervous. What did he expect from this evening? What did he hope to accomplish? They had already admitted to betraying and hurting each other to no purpose. Their daughter was dead, gone before her time, taking with her some of the joy that drove Demelza and leaving behind a father's guilt. His thoughts over her paternity would haunt Ross for a long time, perhaps forever. Minutes passed before he couldn't take the silence any longer. He wanted to have this out and, taking a page from his wife's book, move on. There was no easy way to broach the subject so he said what he'd wanted to say since the morning.

"Why did you do it Demelza? What did he give you that I didn't? Did you love him?" he blurted out.

Demelza raised her head, not quite believing that he would start this discussion again. She was tired and sad and didn't want to go over things that would do no good at this point. However, it seemed her husband had other ideas so perhaps today, the day of their daughter's funeral was the day to bring everything out so that once and for all they could bury this as well.

"Perhaps I should ask you the same questions Ross. Why did you sleep with Elizabeth? Did she give you something that I didn't? Do you love her?" she retorted.

Her voice was steady despite the fact that all she wanted to do was cry. Ross didn't expect her to go on the attack at the start. He thought the conversation would continue as it had that morning, but clearly, Demelza was no longer in the mood to discuss things calmly.

"It's not the same thing. Besides, you know the answer to that. I did love her," Ross replied.

"Did you go to her that night thinking you still did? And that you didn't love me? Is that it?" she challenged.

He paused and thought about it. Was she right? Did he go to Elizabeth thinking that the love he had for her was stronger than the love he had for his wife? And wasn't he proven drastically wrong as soon as his body met Elizabeth's? Ross didn't have a chance to answer because Demelza went on.

"When you were making love to Elizabeth, you told me I wasn't a thought, so what was I? Were you sorry it happened? I don't think you were. You wanted her for the entire period of our marriage and finally had her. It's not my fault it was lacking. And you expected me to just take you back! Which, because I love you and our family, I did. I know that in the end, you said you came to see that it was a mistake. But that was after you saw I could move on. I wonder if you said that just because you thought I wanted to hear it."

She was breathless after that and so downed her port, rising to get another.

"Why are you bringing all this up now? It's history Demelza. We moved on from that. We made a new life. Found new love. Why would you jeopardize that for someone you barely knew?" he asked.

Demelza put the stopper back in the decanter and spun around to look at Ross.

"Because the person I believed I truly did know seemed to forget I was still here. He was so sure of me that once again thought I didn't need to be a part of his life. That I would be content just sitting home, being a mother and when convenient, his wife, usually in bed. And it seemed to me that once again, even the slightest encounter with 'history' was enough to make him forget me," she said.

"But I didn't," Ross corrected.

"That's not how I saw it, Ross. It was clear that you didn't feel the need to talk to me. Again. So why, if your meeting Elizabeth in the churchyard was nothing, why didn't you tell me about it when it happened? Why keep it to yourself unless you were guilty of wanting her again?"

She had calmed down slightly but still held a defiant stance in front of him.

"Damn it Demelza, I want no one but you! I love only you! And what's even more baffling is that even though this thing with Armitage has ripped me to the core, I still do!"

Having heard enough, Ross jumped up from the settle and crossed the room in one stride. He grabbed Demelza and kissed her. She was surprised and not wanting Ross to think a kiss could bring this an easy end, pushed him away. She ran upstairs to their room and sat on the bed, sobbing. The emotions of the day, coupled with the resurrected feelings of Ross's betrayal and now hers were too much to bear. She just wanted to sleep it away so that when she woke up, none of this actually happened and it will all have been a bad dream. Suddenly overcome with exhaustion, Demelza laid down, curled into herself and let the tears come. She didn't hear the door open or the footsteps of her husband until his weight dipped the mattress and his arms wrapped around her waist. She said nothing but let him hold her as she wept.

He brought his head to lay on the same pillow, careful to move her hair out of the way. With his mouth next to her ear, he spoke.

"I love you Demelza. So much so that even this thing that happened between you and Armitage will not change that. I just want to know why. Was it entirely my fault? Did you finally see an opportunity to get revenge on what I'd done? Please tell me."

She didn't turn around but clasped her hands over his, holding him in place.

"This had nothing to do with you Ross. Well not totally. Part of me did want you to feel the pain I felt but I never intended or worked towards making that happen. Hugh just became someone I grew to like. We became friends as you well know. You watched as we grew close but clearly it didn't bother you. As you went about your business with the mine and politics, Hugh was someone I could talk to. He seemed so sad and that touched me."

"So you took pity on him?"

"I suppose in a way you could say that. He was sick Ross and would never have what we have."

"I told you once that pity was sometimes akin to love," he said. The thought that Demelza could have loved someone other than him cut through his soul. "So you decided to give yourself to him for that reason?"

"No!" she cried. As she turned her head to look him. "It was not that simple. You know that there was an attraction between us from the first time we truly met. I saw it in your eyes, Ross."

"Yes. I could tell that he was taken with you Demelza, but I thought it was nothing. Just the usual infatuation men had for you. That your beguiling and warm ways had worked on this sad young man."

"It was nothing at first. I fought it. I didn't want to feel these things. I loved you. I will always love you. Yet something in me said that I should allow myself to experience these feelings. To let myself know what being with someone else was like," she said.

Her explanation was simple without any kind of regret.

"To punish me?" he asked quietly.

"No Ross. This was not about you. In the end, Hugh's caring and sweetness were what I needed at that moment. I believed, truly believed you were taking up with Elizabeth again. So I thought about myself for once and what I wanted. I wanted to know the kiss of another man—not the fumbling assault tactics of what happened with Captain McNeil. But a real kiss, from someone who cared about me, to see if what I felt for them was different than what I felt for you."

Demelza paused as if remembering those times and comparing all incidents and their outcomes. With McNeil it was rushed, awkward and she couldn't wait to get out of the room. With Ross, there was always heat, longing, and a flush of desire that came quickly but never ebbed. His kisses were more than just a spark that led to love making. They were a coming home of sorts; always welcoming and safe. When she kissed Hugh she felt something totally different from both either of these. It was exciting. It was like taking a bite of a new food and not knowing what it would taste like or if you would like it. It was treading into unknown territory that added to the basic want but there was nothing more. Demelza knew she would not give of herself if she didn't feel something for the other person. That was unchanging and Ross knew that about her too. What she didn't expect was for the encounter to be so unimportant in the end. Her mind ran that idea around a few times after it happened which made the why and how clearer to her. Now to make Ross understand.

"And was it?"

"Was it what?" she asked, not hearing Ross the first time.

"Different?" he repeated.

"Yes. Very much so Ross. Just as you told me about your feelings for Elizabeth being different than your love for me. Even your feelings for Caroline are different as you keep telling me. What I felt for Hugh was nothing compared to my love for you. It wasn't deep and all encompassing. It was light and sweet and quickly a fond memory. I never intended for you to know what happened. After it was over, I put it away and didn't intend to think about it again."

"And what of the love making Demelza?"

Ross hesitated to speak of this because even though he had told her his experience with Elizabeth was less than he expected, he somehow didn't think it would be the case with her. He waited for her response both curious and dreading it at the same time.

"The same Ross. It was pleasant and basically no different physically than…."

"Than making love with me?"

Demelza turned her body so she could look at him now, her eyes filled with unshed tears.

"In a way. But the love was different than when we are together. I didn't feel as though he was a part of me. That when our bodies come together, so too do our souls. This is what I feel with you. Even after all these years Ross, even after the hurt and misunderstanding; the jealousy and stubbornness, when we join together in this bed, we become one. There is no you or I. Only we."

He knew what she meant because that was exactly what he felt when he was with Elizabeth. The real love, the emotional and mental love that bound them to each other, was not there. There was release in the physical act only; it satisfied the body but not the soul.

"I see. So it was his poems and letters that made you give in to him, Demelza? Things that I could not or would not be able to provide?"

"In a way, but there was a physical need as well Ross. Perhaps it was just wanting to give him something. That seemed to be the reason more than anything else. As I told you before, I thought that by sharing the love I had in me, love that has grown from being with you, that maybe I could give him some kind of happiness and satisfaction before he…."

"Before he died?"

"Yes. And that was all it was. There was never any question in my mind that what happened would stay isolated in that cave never to come out and be spoken of or thought of again. That was until I found out I was with child and then the fear that my attempt to give someone else happiness would ruin my own."

She sat up and rose from the bed to walk around. Going to her dressing table Demelza sat down and looked at herself in the mirror. She was far from vain but as she looked at her face now she thought she had aged years in just the span of a few months. The light that was in her eyes before Hugh's death seemed to dim. Her skin appeared dull; it did not have the glow that so often appeared when she smiled. The luster of her fiery red locks also seemed less bright. Was she just getting older or was it a result of all she had gone through? She sat quietly, staring in the mirror while Ross looked at her from his place on the bed.

"Demelza, I thought you knew from the start that Hannah was our child. That's what Dwight told me," Ross said.

She turned to look at him then wondering what else he had discussed with their doctor friend.

"So you and Dwight discussed my adulterous, less than ladylike, behavior? Well, that's nice to know. And yet you couldn't come to me with your fears or questions? That doesn't say much for our marriage Ross."

"Demelza…."

"How does it feel Ross? To know that what everyone said about me, that I was just a common scullery maid, was true. Yet the same behavior displayed by a gentleman is accepted. What did Dwight tell you exactly?"

She was fighting tears again. This time not out of grief but frustration and anger. Anger that what she had done was no longer private but apparently fodder for gossip.

"Demelza, Dwight only told me of your fears as to when Hannah was due to be born. And that he told you that Hugh could not have fathered her. Nothing more. There was no judgment in him. You have to believe that."

Her body relaxed at the table as she turned back to face the mirror, her eyes closing, her hands clasped in front of her.

"I do. I know that Dwight would never think of me that way. And what of you Ross? Do you judge me?"

"Do I have any right to do so?"

Ross swung his legs over the side of the bed, hands on his knees and looked at her, suddenly feeling extreme remorse. He wanted to go to his wife so that she could lean on him but knew he could not. There was a new breach between them. This one based not on what they'd done but rather what they hadn't done. And that was to talk to each other. Demelza didn't turn to face him but spoke to her reflection

"Actually Ross, I don't think either of us is in a position to judge the other," she said slowly.

Rising from the table she returned to the bed and sat next to him. Taking his hand in hers, she held it loosely; the need to feel physically connected to him extremely strong, as they worked their way through this maze of emotions. His statement about not having any right to judge her was the first time he acknowledged that what had happened with Elizabeth was wrong.

"I think you're right Demelza," he said. "My behavior the night I went to Elizabeth was irreprehensible. I should not have pushed you aside to go to her on the deluded thought that I could stop her from marrying George."

"I agree," she said.

Ross turned to glance at her face and recognized a new kind of hurt. He knew what that hurt was because he felt the same thing during the months Hugh was in their lives. It was the pain of feeling that the one you love could stop loving you in an instant; without provocation, just on a notion.

"I think I hated you more at that moment than when you returned the next day Ross. Because in those few seconds, I felt like I was worthless to you. That I didn't matter, that our life together meant nothing and that, for lack of a better term, I was easily dismissed."

He didn't have an answer for that. She was right. At that instant, as he read Elizabeth's letter, all he saw was his old love tied to his enemy. Demelza was not a concern.

"You might be right, Demelza. In my rage, I didn't see anything or anyone else," he said. He turned his body towards her. "My focus was on her."

"Just as my focus, that day on the beach, was Hugh. However, I never put aside that you were my husband. I just put aside that I was a wife."

Demelza stared at him, hoping he would see what she meant. She wasn't sure she was making any sense at this point. She was so tired. Her body felt spent. Her spirit was gone as was her fight. Extracting her hand from his, she moved to undo her dress and corset. She felt constricted and wanted to be able to take a deep breath and let everything out. Her fingers moved slowly over the fasteners until Ross reached over and covered her hand with his.

"Ross, don't…." she started to say.

"Do you not want me to touch you anymore? Have we ruined everything between us? Has everything we have experienced both good and bad, meant nothing?"

Now he was the one with the shaky voice as a tear slipped down his cheek. Demelza's gaze never left his face and her hand itched to reach out and wipe away that tear. Instead, she sat still and let him start to undress her. For a fleeting moment, her mind went back to that beach and another set of hands on her body, but she closed her eyes and willed that vision away. Opening them again, she watched her husband as he tentatively worked his way down her dress. When he reached the last hook, she stood and slipped the dress off, letting it drop to the floor. Ross bent down, picked it up and took it to the wardrobe to hang.

"Thank you," she said quietly. Ross walked back to where she stood, needing to touch her again. He took a hold of her arms and held her in place while he spoke.

"There is nothing to thank me for, Demelza," he said.

They remained frozen, not quite sure what to do next. Demelza was still in her corset so she moved to unlace it. Ross didn't offer to help but watched as his wife pulled the cord through the grommets, allowing the garment to fall open, revealing her shift. He moved his hands from her arms as she slipped it off and laid it on the bed. Ross could not help himself as his hands automatically moved back to touch her. Demelza held her breath expecting him to try something intimate that she was not ready for. Instead, in a surprising move, he turned her around and untied her petticoat so that it fell, leaving her in her shift.

He then swiveled her back around to face him which is when he saw her eyes shimmering with moisture.

"Will we get past this Ross? Can we forgive each other?" she asked.

"We have to Demelza," he said. Taking her hand, he led her back to the bed, pulled back the covers and laid her down.

"You sound so sure. We've both done things that have hurt the other to the core. We've both admitted to thinking of and being with other people. How can we forget that?" she asked.

Her hair spread out on the pillow as Ross tucked her in bringing the covers up to her chest. When she seemed settled, he sat down next to her, his hand on her knee.

"That's just it, my love. We shouldn't forget what's happened."

"I don't understand. If we don't forget, it will always be with us."

"Maybe it should. Maybe it should be a reminder of what we could lose. I'm not saying that we should talk about it, or use it against each other when things go amiss. I just mean that when we get, complacent in our relationship, we should remind ourselves that once before we let others interfere and almost divide us forever," he explained.

Demelza sat up, letting him take her hand and thread them together. She searched his face, sure that she would find some cynicism or bitterness there. There was nothing. His eyes were warm, crinkling when he smiled, bringing out his scar.

"You make it sound so simple, Ross. After all the pain, the misunderstanding, the…breaking….of our vows….you believe we could put that behind us?" she said softly.

While she spoke, Ross grasped her hand and held it tightly, his finger brushing the gold band he put on her ten years before, symbolically sealing them again.

"Yes my love I do," he stated.

"Why?" she asked

Ross could see that she doubted him which made him smile more. Never in all their married life had he been the voice of reason; that was her trait.

"It's simple Demelza. Don't you know? You're the sensible one in this marriage," he said.

"Perhaps I've lost that when I tried to find another part of me. Perhaps I can't make sense of anything anymore," she whispered.

"Then I will clarify for you. We can get past this because of one thing. Love. I love you Demelza," Ross said.

She was openly weeping now.

"And you? Do you still love me?" he asked.

Demelza raised her head as she nodded, her cheeks streaked with tears.

"More than anything. I do love you, Ross. I told you that had never changed."

Ross pulled her closer so that he could take her face in his hands.

"Well then that is all we need now, isn't it?" he said, smiling at her.

She tilted her head up and Ross did the only thing that he could. He kissed her. It was the first step in forgiving the past and forging the future.