Little stories of love and joy.

Poldark

Title: Shadows of Prejudice

Genre: Historical Fiction

Writing Style: Dialogue-Driven

Chapter 1: A Clash of Worlds

Ross Poldark, a man of privilege, had defied societal expectations by marrying Desmerelda, his former kitchen maid. Their love had blossomed amidst the chaos of war, but now they faced a new challenge as a lord came to visit their home, judging Ross and insulting him at every turn.

As Desmerelda served the lord and Ross, she couldn't help but overhear the almost completely one-sided conversation. Her heart ached for her husband, who had endured so much already. Placing the cups on the table, she glanced at Ross, her eyes filled with concern. Ross smiled up at her softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you, my love."

The lord, oblivious to Desmerelda's presence, continued his tirade, insulting Ross's choice in wife. "Desmerelda, was it? A mere kitchen maid? I must say, Poldark, your taste in women has certainly plummeted."

Desmerelda's grip tightened on the bread pan she held, her anger simmering beneath the surface. Ross, ever the gentleman, tried to diffuse the situation. "Lord Harrington, I would appreciate it if you showed some respect. Desmerelda is my wife, and she deserves to be treated as such."

The lord scoffed, refusing to acknowledge Desmerelda's existence. "Respect? Poldark, you should have learned some manners during your time at war. Your lack of education is evident."

Ross's face tightened, his jaw clenching. He had never been one for formal education, but his experiences had shaped him in ways the lord could never understand. "My family drafted me into the war, Lord Harrington. I fought for my country, for the people I love. That is an education in itself."

Desmerelda couldn't contain her anger any longer. Slamming the bread pan down on the table, she spoke with a fiery determination. "You may judge us, Lord Harrington, but you know nothing of the love and strength that binds us. Ross is a man of honor, and I am proud to be his wife."

The lord's eyes narrowed, his disdain evident. "I heard you were drinking ale, Poldark. Wouldn't surprise me, given the amount of fights you've been in."

Ross's patience wore thin, and he stood, his voice laced with authority. "Lord Harrington, I will not tolerate your insults any longer. I kindly ask you to leave."

The lord, taken aback by Ross's sudden assertiveness, begrudgingly rose from his seat and made his way towards the door. As he left, he couldn't resist throwing in one final insult. "You may have won this battle, Poldark, but the war is far from over."

With the door closed, Ross leaned heavily against the frame, his face a mask of sorrow. Desmerelda rushed to his side, her touch offering solace. "Ross, don't let his words define you. You are so much more than what he sees."

Ross sighed, his voice filled with weariness. "I know, my love. But sometimes, the weight of their prejudice becomes too heavy to bear."

Desmerelda wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. "We will face these challenges together, Ross. Our love will conquer all."

And in that moment, as they stood united against the shadows of prejudice, Ross and Desmerelda found strength in each other, ready to face whatever trials lay ahead.

Note: This novel is a work of fiction and is not affiliated with the Poldark series or its creators.