Chapter Text
Cornwall, Fifteen Months Later
Ross Poldark squinted as the empty road ahead curved slightly west. The visor was already pulled down but not doing its job, so he held up one hand to shield his eyes until the position of the sun shifted again at the next bend.
“Try these,” Demelza offered him her own sunglasses after watching his silent struggle. “Oh that’s a nice look on you, Ross,” she laughed. “You should always wear my things.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he smiled. The big amber shades made a difference and also gave everything a soft, almost rosy glow.
Of course they did.
Past the wrought iron gates at the turn off to Killewarren, paved concrete soon gave way to gravel that crunched gently under the tires. Ross found that particular sound curious--depending on the destination it could be the sound of excitement, of long awaited arrivals, of pleasure to come. Or it could be the harbinger of anxiety, impending boredom, and even dread. He smiled, rather certain which of those options tonight would bring.
Someone, centuries ago, had strategically set the big house on a low hill. Its position showcased its elegance from afar but also offered its inhabitants an unparalleled view of the surrounding Cornwall countryside. Ross thought for a moment that it must be difficult to keep such a long drive that well-maintained. But then again it helped to have staff.
He laughed. That would never work at Nampara. It was hard enough keeping Demelza from still doing the housework they now hired out. If Ross was to employ groundskeepers, he could just imagine her making them tea or even picking up a spade and joining them in their labour.
Now he glanced over at the woman by his side. She was turned away from him, looking out her open window, but he suspected--he could feel--she was smiling. She hadn’t spoken for several minutes, seemingly transfixed by it all--the gloriously bright sky, the soft breeze, the green slopes.
So much had happened to them over the past year and a half, so much had changed. By all rights, she should have looked haggard and tired but instead she appeared as lovely and lively as the day he’d first met her. Cornwall living seemed to suit her.
It suited them both.
As soon as Ross switched off the engine they were struck by the silence of the evening.
“This place is so peaceful,” Demelza sighed.
“Even the birds here are restrained,” he laughed. “No doubt that’s on Caroline’s orders.”
He wondered if Dwight and Caroline ever tired of it, after living in the bustling city for so many years. The Enyses never spoke of regret, and like the Poldarks, they often acknowledged how much they had to be grateful for.
“Well, as much as I do enjoy visits with friends--they do pamper us--I’m always happy to come home to our own Nampara--unruly birds and all,” Demelza said as if reading Ross’s thoughts.
“We just got here. Are you ready to go home already?” he teased.
“Depends what the master has waitin’ for me,” she winked. “Okay, my love,” Demelza went on-- not waiting for his reply was a sort of counter-tease in itself. “Do you want to carry dessert or…” She looked over her shoulder but the infant seat behind her was rear-facing so she was unable to see its occupant. She listened carefully then tried to twist around to get a better view without upsetting the key lime pie she had on her lap.
“Well, well, it looks as though someone is still asleep!” Ross chuckled. “I told you this was a smooth ride.”
Almost a year before, during a sort of nesting period, they’d traded up vehicles from the Prius to something larger. The new Volvo was still a hybrid but supposedly safer and definitely more expensive. Ross had no qualms about the cost, for it was precious cargo they’d soon be hauling, but Demelza had initially voiced some reservations.
“Are you really ready for this, Ross? Don’t you think it’s a bit staid? Predictable? This car just screams ‘married country dad’!”
“And I am, proudly, all those things--or will be soon. Would you rather I buy a sports car and commence my mid life crisis?” he’d joked.
“Ross, there's space for a whole rugby team in the back!”
“Not rugby--this little one’s bound to be a footballer.”
“Yes, that she is,” Demelza had laughed and put her hand to her rounding belly. “She’s a kicker anyway. She never really stops movin’ and don’t expect she’ll stop once she’s here.”
“Reminds me of someone I know,” Ross had pointed out.
In the end, Demelza had relented on the purchase of the car and by winter she had to admit that it handled well on ice and on the muddy tracks around Nampara that passed for roads. Since she was the one who drove it most days, it quickly became referred to as “Demelza’s car.”
Tonight though, she’d allowed Ross to do the driving.
“Why don’t you carry the pie, since it’s your glorious creation,” Ross said. “Then again, I suppose you made our other glorious creation as well…”
“I had a little help with that one,” she laughed. “Okay, but if she wakes, we can switch…”
“She won’t wake,” Ross said confidently then stepped out of the car to better attend his daughter. In one smooth gesture, his experienced hands unfastened the seat from its base and lifted it out. His charge moved her little mouth slightly, but otherwise remained asleep.
“Garrick or no Garrick?” he asked looking at the old stuffed dog lying on the back seat.
“Leave him and her diaper bag for now. If we need them we can come out and get them. Tonight we travel light,” she laughed.
“I wouldn't call her light. Come, my love,” he said to his wife and watched her as she stepped out of the car.
Ross smiled to himself, vaguely remembering a daydream from a different lifetime. He’d only just met Demelza but he’d imagined bringing her to the Enyses’ for dinner--so simple a wish but back then it had seemed an impossibility. Of course, since they’d all made Cornwall their permanent home, Ross and Demelza had been to the Enys country home many times. Ross was aware he was living his dreams now.
The evening was especially warm, unusual for mid September. Summer was lingering on, ‘as if fond of its own perfection’. That was how Ross’s father had once described such unseasonable warmth--but these past years it was more aptly attributed to climate change.
And since it was so lovely a night, the plan was they’d all stay out in the marvelous Killewarren garden. They still dined al fresco with friends whenever they could, a social habit formed in more trying times that they’d never really abandoned.
Demelza was wearing her favourite linen sundress and as they entered the low front gate Ross gently put his hand to her bare back, leading the way. She’d been thrilled she could fit into her old clothes again but in truth she’d shed her baby weight quite quickly. Perhaps it was because she was always moving and never still, or maybe she was just one of those lucky women.
This evening her hair was up, exposing her exquisite neck. Ross lost his battle with his own restraint and gave it a quick peck before anyone opened the door.
“Careful, Ross,” she smiled, gingerly holding her pie aloft and glancing with protective love towards the car seat he deftly toted with one strong hand.
“I told you I won’t wake her.” Ross looked down at his sleeping daughter again. Demelza had tucked a blanket around her before they left Nampara, but it had since been kicked away.
Long pink socks that were supposed to reach her chubby knees had slipped down. The left one had made it as far as her heel and threatened to come off with the next kick from those powerful little legs. Soft fuzz had started to develop in one long stripe along the top of her head and now stood straight up--no curls yet but it was clear from its dark colour that she favoured her father.
She’d been dressed in a long sleeved onesie, a special gift from her Aunt Verity, that naturally meant more to the little girl’s parents than to her. Despite being all white it had somehow managed to stay clean, even after hours of drooling. In bold black letters across the front it read: What Would Joan Jett Do?
Ross’s most indulgent daydreams had never included a child and yet here she was. He could not have imagined such happiness nor such a powerful love than that a parent feels for their child. Almost every day he recalled the prescient words Demelza had spoken so long ago--it was the greatest terror ever, to risk your heart, to love that much, but worth it all the same.
There were times he didn’t think he could have had a hand in creating someone so perfect and other times he quaked at the urgent terror of needing to make the world a better place for her.
And since that frosty February morning when she’d arrived a few weeks earlier than expected, Miss Julia Grace Poldark liked to remind her parents that while she might be part of that ancient family, she had her own demands, her own desires, and her own timetable.
So tonight as her parents were in the mood to socialise, she was firmly ensconced in an unscheduled nap. Ross regretted that she wasn’t awake to interact with their friends--he loved to show her off and show the world off to her--but he had to admit it would make adult conversation easier if she stayed asleep.
---
It was Dwight who greeted them at the door and even though Demelza had been a part of Ross’s life for some time now, each time they met, Dwight still sent his friend a quick glance of approval that he’d managed to find--and keep--such a lovely partner.
“Caroline and Sarah are on the veranda. Come on through the house,” Dwight welcomed them. “And how is my favourite Poldark?” he cooed, then leaning close he saw the baby sleeping and shushed himself. “Do you want to keep her indoors while she’s asleep?” he whispered. “We can have Dumitra, our au pair, mind her?”
“Oh no need to whisper, Dwight, this one would sleep through a rock concert. And no, she’ll be fine out with us,” Demelza replied. “Let’s all enjoy the sunshine as long as we can.”
“Julia’s a little country girl,” Ross said. “It will take more than a bit of breeze to upset her.” The idea that his father would have approved of such a hearty baby flashed through his mind, and not for the first time.
“Have you seen those videos of Siberian school children playing in the snow?” Dwight asked as they walked through the impressive main hallway towards the veranda that spanned the entire west side of the house.
“Yes! And in their underwear, no less,” Demelza laughed. “It’s adorable. And reminds us we’re all capable of withstanding far more than we think.”
“Is that the plan for your kindergarten classroom come winter?” Dwight asked her.
“Well, we’re not quite a forest school--our toilets are still inside the building--but we do maximize outdoor learnin’ as much as we can,” Demelza explained. “And the plan is to continue to do so even when the weather turns colder. The children love it.”
Demelza beamed at the chance to talk about her new job. The previous year she’d completed her teacher training at a kindergarten in Truro, and had since been offered a full time position at the same school. Ross hadn’t been surprised--of course they’d seize her up once they’d worked with her. The autumn term had just started, and so far, being a full time working parent had suited Demelza well--or as she said more than once, “It suits me well enough, Ross. That’s all we can ask for.”
“If the kids are happy I imagine that goes a long way,” Dwight said.
“Oh, it’s everythin’!”
“And their parents are happy too, I trust?” It was less an actual question and more a hint of Dwight’s estimation of Demelza’s professional skill.
“Of course they are. They have the best staff and they know it,” Ross said proudly.
“Well, I was lucky to get the position, bein’ just recently qualified,” she added modestly. “And I’m not lead teacher…”
“Not yet,” Dwight said. “If what Ross tells me is true, then in a few years, you'll be running the place.”
“Ross!” she hissed, but he saw she was smiling.
“Hopefully that will be the case by the time Sarah is in school. Be kind to her, Mrs. Poldark--she most likely won’t stay in uniform. In fact, we can never keep her in clothes at all these days.”
“Poor Caroline,” Demelza laughed. “I imagine she finds that a bit frustratin’?”
“Yes, it tugs at her two greatest instincts. She wants to oblige our daughter’s whims and nurture her free-spirit but she also wants to keep her dressed in the most darling frocks,” Dwight laughed.
“Well, let her be free while she can,” Demelza sighed.
They rarely spoke of the possibility of future lockdowns but it remained at the back of their minds all the same. Maybe some day the worry would leave them entirely or maybe their generation would always bear these scars.
“Free is one thing. Feral is another. But we’ve insisted she dress for dinner tonight, which means at least a nappy,” Dwight chuckled.
“I can take that, Mrs. Poldark.” A woman came up behind them that Ross recognised as a longtime Killewarren servant, but whose name he never knew.
“Thank you, Eleanor,” Demelza smiled and carefully handed over the pie.
Of course she’d remember the name of anyone she’d met, even someone’s else’s housekeeper. Ross felt a flicker of gratitude towards his wife for this. He always found it easier to be out in public with Demelza’s natural warmth and charm to lead the way.
“It’s probably best kept chilled until after dinner and I’ll need to whip the cream right before we serve it--Caroline assured me you had some, so I didn’t bring any. Shall I help you in the kitchen?” Demelza asked, but before she could hear Eleanor’s emphatic ‘no’, she was ambushed by a little blonde creature with a jam-smeared face and sticky hands.
Dwight had called it--the toddler was naked but for her nappy.
Sarah Enys was just a year old--her birthday had been earlier that month--and was an active and playful little thing. She was tall for her age and very slender, despite her voracious appetite for anything sweet. She had not just been walking but running, and even climbing, since she was nine months. In addition to being very mobile, she’d recently begun to string her babble together in a manner that was almost recognisable to ears other than those of her doting parents.
“Dee-do!!” she shrieked when she saw Demelza.
“Well, hello, Sarah, my darlin’! You’ve had a jam tart, haven’t you?’ Demelza crouched down and examined the tiny hands that Sarah Enys held out for her to see. “Num num num!” Demelza pretended to lick the little fingers and was met with a torrent of giggles.
“Sarah Enys, you precious monster! Hands up at once, and by all means keep away from Demelza’s lovely white dress,” Caroline chirped to her daughter who reluctantly obeyed but only because she seemed to consider it a great game.
“Mulțumesc, Dumitra,” Dwight said to the very young-looking au pair who seemed to appear out of nowhere to attend to the girl. Sarah still held her hands above her head whilst she awaited further orders from her mother, but allowed them to be wiped.
“Really! Who would think of giving a child a jam tart before dinner?” Caroline rolled her eyes and appeared to be shocked, but no one present was convinced by her act. They all knew how indulgent Caroline could be with her child and her pets. “She didn’t actually get you did she?” she said to Demelza in a low voice that betrayed some actual worry.
“No, she’s just havin’ fun,” Demelza assured her. “And it looks like Horace is enjoyin’ himself too!” The circling pug stopped his sniffing and began to lick any remaining traces of jam from Demelza’s legs.
“Horace, that’s enough,” Dwight said firmly but with zero result. Demelza gingerly pushed the dog away. Only after she’d given him a conciliatory pet, did she take a seat next to Caroline.
“Ross, you look handsome as ever. Air kiss,” Caroline called to Ross from across the veranda. She was already pouring Demelza a glass of wine, confident Dwight would attend to Ross.
“Ju Ju! Mine!” Sarah declared and scampered over to the car seat placed at Ross’s feet.
“No, no, Julia belongs to her mummy and daddy,” Caroline explained.
“No, mine!” Sarah insisted. This time she began to sit down, trying to squeeze in next to the sleeping Poldark baby and made it clear it was the car seat, not the child, she wanted in her possession.
“Uh uh,” Ross laughed and gently used his broad hand to catch Sarah before she crushed his daughter.
“Don’t tell her she’s too big for it or she’ll double down to prove you otherwise,” Dwight said.
“Oh Sarah, my love, you don’t want that seat!” Demelza came closer and again knelt down to the little girl’s eye level. “See? She’s all buckled in? She’s stuck but you get to run, don’t you?” she said to the girl in an attempt to redirect her.
Sarah responded by stamping her feet to show her how vigorously she could move.
“Oh you’re a dancer, aren’t you?” Demelza encouraged.
“Kiss?” Sarah now asked Demelza, pointing to Julia, who despite the stomping and squealing and near squashing, remained asleep.
“Erm…” Caroline shot Demelza a look, uncertain if such close contact would be permissible. Those sorts of gestures, once casually thrown around with strangers, were still reserved for only those most dear.
Demelza nodded her consent then burst into laughter when instead of bending to kiss Julia’s cheek, Sarah put her little foot on the baby’s belly.
“Sarah!” Dwight chided with horror.
“Oh, a foot kiss, eh?” Demelza laughed, then scooped Sarah up and returned to her chair next to Caroline. “You need a foot kiss too, then!” Demelza kissed the bottom of Sarah’s foot, which proved a bit ticklish. As expected, more giggles ensued and the little girl was effectively distracted.
Ross took a drink from his beer and sighed. He felt warm and content and relaxed. These were not unfamiliar feelings for him but every now and then he still felt the shock anew when he paused and just allowed himself to be happy.
He loved watching his wife with Sarah. Demelza was good with most children--she’d already proven that--and she seemed to have more patience for the little imp than either Enys parent. It was the fruition of her studies and her professional experience, even if her natural warmth disguised the clinical precision of her interactions.
But when Demelza held her own child, that was something else entirely. With Julia she was unscripted, and she vibrated with an extraordinary love--strange yet perfect. They had a connection that Ross could see and feel but never describe with words. He wouldn’t dare call it instinct; time and time again Demelza had laughed and declared “I really don’t know what I’m doin’, Ross.” But whatever the source of her impulses--head, heart, or gut--they seemed to work.
Ross looked forward to watching his daughter grow up under such steady guidance and unwavering love. He might not yet have confidence in the world’s future but he’d never had as much confidence in another being as he had in Demelza.
The day he’d walked in on her cleaning his kitchen had been the luckiest day of his life.
---
Killewarren was further inland than Nampara, but the distinctive blood-orange brilliance of a seaside sunset was still visible on the distant horizon. The sun was moving swiftly in its journey--it wouldn’t be long until it dipped out of view entirely and the glorious warmth of the evening would fade as well.
They’d finished their supper of blackened Worcestershire fillet and chilled chervil and pea soup. Every mouthful of Eleanor’s menu was delightful. Still, Ross thought he preferred Demelza’s cooking to anyone’s. Now he was looking forward to her pie.
“Are you cold, my love?” He thought he saw Demelza shiver. “I can get your sweater from the car…”
“No, I’m fine,” she said and he trusted she was telling the truth. In a few minutes Dwight would switch on the heater lamps but the party would be breaking up soon. Since both families had small children, neither were in the habit of staying out late anymore.
“Your latest Grace Energy Instagram post was stunning, as always, Ross,” Caroline said while they waited for Eleanor to bring out dessert.
“My post?” he laughed. “I just approve them--it’s Demelza who takes the photos. But apparently it has helped our visibility.”
“How do you find the time to be Ross’s PR magician?” Dwight asked Demelza. “While also working full time and parenting?”
“Oh that? It’s nothin’,” she smiled. “It started as a laugh really. I just take a few snaps of pretty country things--and there are no shortage of those around us--and slap on the hashtags #Everyday Grace #Everyday Energy! Takes me less than five minutes to throw one together but if it helps to keep Grace viable for Julia to take over some day--if she chooses--then it’s five minutes well spent!”
“If she chooses,” Ross said.
“How very generous of you. I’ve already made it 100% clear to Sarah that she’ll need to be a doctor like her daddy. Then she’ll be a superhero,” Caroline shot Dwight a look of adoration. Despite her cool exterior, Caroline did let her guard down around the Poldarks, especially when it came to pronouncements of love for her husband. “Teachers are heroes too, of course,” she added quickly.
“To heroes,” Ross raised his glass in a toast. Both Demelza and Dwight seemed embarrassed but managed to smile at the gesture.
“This pie looks brilliant,” Caroline gushed as Eleanor laid a plate in front of her at the table. “Where on earth did you find key limes?”
“This time it was Tesco, not old Poldark connections,” Demelza winked. “Though Ross does have a source for everythin’...well almost everythin’...”
“It seems everything except a new mattress,” Ross half laughed, half grumbled. The memory of that failure still irked him.
“But isn’t that how you got your new refrigerator, Ross?” Caroline asked. “Through someone your father used to work with?”
“Yes, sometimes these sources do come through,” Ross explained. “When our old refrigerator died, we’d been told we’d be on a waiting list for six months for a new one.”
“Six months?! What would you have done?” Caroline gasped.
“Luckily it happened in winter so we could keep our milk in the yard--it was no worse than campin’,” Demelza replied. Of course she’d seen it as an adventure.
“But my father had had a friend…” Ross continued.
“And by friend you mean fixer?” Dwight raised his brow.
“Let’s just call him an acquaintance…anyway, he knew the right people and came through us for a new refrigerator,” Ross said.
“Oh and it’s glorious--far larger than I’d have ever chosen,” Demelza added. “To think, this one would take up half the kitchen in our old flat!”
“Yet this same friend never managed to find you a new mattress?” Caroline asked.
“Well, not one to Ross’s genteel likin’ anyway,” Demelza smiled.
“It’s not because I’m a gentleman. On the contrary, my love. Physical labour has made my back temperamental,” Ross objected.
“Labour? Ross, you’re an executive!” Dwight sputtered, almost choking on his beer.
“No, no, Dwight. Ross still goes on site rather often. And you forget, Ross did a lot of the rebuildin’ of Nampara by himself.” Demelza defended her husband.
Ross appreciated that his wife was very judicious in her own teasing of him and seemed to prefer to do so privately. They weren’t one of those couples who put each other down in front of others for a laugh or who bickered publicly.
“Besides,” she said with a bright smile, “the failed search for a good mattress worked to our advantage. It was the final factor in our decision to stay in Cornwall permanently.”
“Yes, believe it or not, it was easier to hire removers and get the entire contents of the flat sent here than to buy a new mattress,” Ross explained. “But I suppose with everyone stuck at home, there was a renewed interest in household goods, thus the delays.”
“It was a global foam shortage,” Dwight said.
“I read it was springs too--and the fabric used to wrap them in,” Demelza added.
“Add a second lockdown and uncertain international trade relationships--it was a perfect storm really,” Dwight said.
Ross noticed his friend’s grey eyes went dark for a moment. He hoped Dwight wasn’t fretting about future crises. No doubt there was more this monstrous world had to throw at them. And these shadows must all in time be accepted and dealt with. In due course. But not tonight.
“Mattresses aside, have you been sleeping well?” Caroline asked, nodding towards the tiny Poldark still asleep in her seat at Ross’s feet.
“Yes, yes we are. Our little friend is quite considerate of her hard working parents,” Ross said proudly. He tenderly stroked his daughter’s leg and then her cheek. Right now she was soft and slumped but Ross knew she could be fiercely strong when she wanted to show off her developing muscle strength. Unable to resist the urge for a cuddle, he reached down and quietly unfastened the straps that held Julia’s little body safely in position.
“Ross?” Dwight raised a questioning brow. “Mate, you know you’re playing with fire…”
Again Ross demonstrated his experience at such deft moves, and was able to scoop the baby up quickly and smoothly. He settled her against his chest and wrapped the blanket around them both.
Ross traced the dark fuzz on her head with his nose and lips, whispering softly. Without opening her eyes, she snuggled against him, seeming to recognise his voice, his smell, his protective embrace.
It was a procedure he’d perfected over the past few months as he took an active role in parenting and attempted to work from home. He’d gotten quite good at holding the baby--awake or asleep--in the crook of his arm and typing with one hand only. And she'd quickly become a favourite guest at Grace Energy zoom meetings. Of course it would be more difficult when she grew more mobile, but Ross knew to enjoy this stage whilst it lasted.
Dwight laughed at the two of them, father and daughter, caught up in each other, seemingly oblivious to the other company on the veranda.
But Ross knew Demelza didn’t begrudge him this moment. She could have a few more minutes of adult conversation and she’d have her own turn at baby cuddles when they got home.
“I told you she was a good sleeper,” Demelza said with a smile, confident the present company could recognise this as a most admirable quality in an eight month old baby. “Of course she’ll probably sleep through our entire visit but wake just as we get back to Nampara--and then demand to be entertained all night.” She took another sip of wine then nodded when Caroline offered her some more from the near-empty bottle.
“Oh we’re familiar with that routine,” Dwight laughed. “You might get a few quiet hours out but you’ll pay later in spades.”
“Sarah used to scream bloody murder whenever she rode in the car. Most babies are lulled by a drive but not our child,” Caroline said.
“To be fair, my dear, it was only in the dark that she’d cry so,” Dwight corrected his wife. “So it was always on the way home from somewhere. Still that made it rather unpleasant for the driver.”
“And any passengers,” Caroline added. “And anyone within a two mile radius.”
“She still has those healthy lungs but recently has developed the good sense to use her quiet tears to tug at her parents’ heartstrings,” Dwight said.
“It’s rather impressive, especially her pout. She’s very precocious for her age, I believe,” Caroline laughed. “Just wait until your little one perfects the art of emotional manipulation, Ross.”
“Oh she’s already got Ross wrapped around her pudgy little fingers,” Demelza laughed. “And I believe she knows what she’s doin’...she doesn’t try half her tricks on me.”
Ross chuckled. Despite Demelza’s insistence that she wasn’t fooled by Julia’s games, he knew her to be enthralled by their daughter.
“Oh Ross, I think I love her too much,” she often said to him. Both Poldark parents were completely besotted.
“Yes, well, I’ve no complaints,” Ross said now to the Enyses but also to the fuzzy-headed baby cuddled against his chest.
“We have no complaints,” Demelza said softly.
“Deedo-dee?” Sarah, still wide awake, put her hand on Demelza’s cheek. It was not only her name for Demelza but a request for one of their favourite shared songs.
Ross watched Demelza as a smile spread across her face. She rubbed the child’s fluffy blonde head then began to sing, mischievously and in a playfully deep voice:
"There was an old couple and they was poor,
Tweedle, tweedle, go twee..”