From Cornwall with Love

Chapter Forty Five - Less of a Man

Demelza singing

I played with Henry and Rebekah Grace's fingers as I sing to them. Rebekah Grace giggles as she twirls my ring around. Henry sits upon his knee and gents twirls my curly hair. There was a knock at the door then it opened.

"Will you be coming down for breakfast?" Demelza asks softly

"No, Demelza. Master Henry, Mistress Rebekah Grace and I will be take our breakfast up here from now on." I answer but do not look back at her.

"Nay, but the chores is piling up downstairs." I heard Prudie intervene

"Your mistaken Prudie. This is the more genteel way of doing things befitting my station. We are gentle folks after all, aren't me my sweet." I kiss Henry's palm and he gives me the biggest smile "Demelza if you'd be so kind"

"Come on." the two leave the three of us alone.

-3rd Person-

Ross returns home after closing up Wheal Grace  with Henshaw. Demelza had retrieved the children and brought them downstairs after their breakfast while Abigail remained sipping her tea in bed. The children sat petting Garrick.

"Churn, I? I ain't churned since..."

"Since the maids first come. Showed 'ee what a dogs's gizzards 'ee made of it." Jud commented

"Smirk all 'ee like. She'll give 'ee no aid now with the calves or seeding." Purdue continued to complain.

"Will you two knock it off." Demelza snaps "The Mistress' head is not in the right head place. Or do you forget how she was the other night. Stop your complaining and give her time. Besides it's not her you should be complaining about." Just as she said the the door opened and Ross entered to a dirty look from Demelza.

"Where's your mistress?" He asked

"Her bed." Demelza answers giving him the dirtiest glare she could muster.

"Is she unwell?"

"Must be." Prudie adds  dropping the plate on the table. He looks down at it in dismay not taking notice at the small pleasure Demelza takes in this.

"What's this?"

"What's it look like?" Purdue counters

"I can't decide. Hence the enquiry." he prodded the food in front of him.  It was round, flat and firm.

"It's been so long since the Mistress let me bake, and now red over there refuses to cook for you. I mislaid all my skills " Ross glance up Demelza.

"Don't look at me. With Mistress in her temperament I assume her chores as Prudie takes over mine."  Demelza rolls her eyes as she dries her hands "Not my fault you weren't a good baker in the first place."

"Perhaps you could mislay this and bring me something edible ." he slid the plate across the table and left the kitchen. Ross made his way upstairs and knocked on their bedroom door, before opening it.

"Oh, you're still here. Is Trenwith not ready for your arrival? Do you need help packing." Abigail wondered staring the sugar in her tea. She did not shout or scream or cry. She reverted to her cool iron exterior that she once held for many years.

"I thought you should know that we're selling the headgear of Grace. The ventures of Wheal Radiant have offered a fair price." Abigail hummed taking a sip of her tea.

"Do you suppose she ever seriously meant to marry George? I'm almost certain it was a trick to get you to declare her hand. I mean out of the two  daughters of Jonathan Chynowith, he left his bastard daughter the main brunt of his money and a care for her to thrive."

"I have no idea what she intended."

"I doubt that very much. But it worked did it not? She got what she wanted." Abigail lowered her tea onto the tray.

"Abigail I never claimed to be perfect." Ross replied

"I don't remember ever for asking such a thing, not in all the time we've known each other. What I do remember is that we promised to forsake all others." she countered resting her hands upon her lap.

"I realise...that I betrayed your trust."

"Forfeit." she cut in

"And that your pride is wounded." he continued

"Pride? My Pride?" Abigail questioned resisting the urge to scoff "To think I always did look up to you, respect you, revere you as my friend then master long before you were my husband."

"I see that but..."

"For it did seems to me, innocent as I was that you were not like other men. You had a kind of nobility, not because of birth, but of character. I was so proud to have such a man care for me and marry me despite the harsh world we live in. So now to discover that you are so much less than other men, or fallen so low because so far. It is not my pride that is wounded, Ross. It is my pride in you." Abigail words repeatedly cut Ross like a knife as she spoke. He left her alone and made his way back downstairs.