Ross did not sleep in his room the following night to his encounter with Elizabeth. He had not seen his wife again since breakfast and when evening came, after spending the day selling the machines and inspecting what remained of the mine, he met with Prudie when he wanted to go up stairs.

'Mistress ordered to prepare the room next to the library for'ee' –she said.

'I just need…' - He tried to sidestep her but she got in his way.

'Mistress dont want to see'ee'

Ross nodded without looking at her, he turned and went to the small room. The whole day had been like a nightmare. Since the dawn when he arrived and found her up hanging out the washing, their clothes, his clothes. He didn't remember what he had told her, his mind couldn't articulate anything coherent, or perhaps the blow had made him forget. He just remembered to be lying on the ground, watching the dark clouds that swirled above him. The right side of his face still hurt him. In that small room, the room in which Demelza had slept the first night she was in Nampara, there was a small mirror. He almost did not recognize the stranger staring back at him, his hair was scrambled, the growing beard of a couple of days and the dust all over him made him look older. He felt older. In little more than one day his life changed completely. Nothing remained of the prosperous mine he had yesterday morning, two deaths weighed on his conscience, the due of the interests was coming soon and he had no way to face them, and Elizabeth. Elizabeth, her letter and her marriage to George. He did not dare to go over what had happened last night, what he had said? That he had to think about it? Think about what? What did he have to offer? He was married, there was no way that something between him and Elizabeth were possible, even more, in any moment in that night of fury, in all his life since he had married with Demelza had he imagined such a thing. Demelza. Under the dim light that a single candle afforded to the room he could see the purple color around his eye. He must talk to her.

Sleep eluded him. The bunk bed was very small, narrow but mostly short and he couldn't stretch his legs well without touching the wall. The candle was extinguished a long time ago and he felt cold, but he was not sure if it was due to the winter weather or from something within himself. He stared at the ceiling. His mind was blank at one moment and the next he was running down the cliffs overlooking the sea, he was running after something, someone and he tried to reach her but could not. He heard laughter and a voice. 'You'll forget me?'. He awoke suddenly with the first rays of light coming through the small window.

Jud brought him a pitcher and a basin for washing and a change of clothes. He was finishing fixing his cravat when he heard movement behind the door and then it opened slowly. Jeremy was holding himself from the frame. Even with unsteadily steps one of his morning routines was to explore the house, every day he seemed to find a new hiding place and Demelza had to spend time looking for him before breakfast.

'Good morning Jeremy' –he said as he lifted him up -'... mom must be looking for you'

But when they entered the parlour they found it empty. In the kitchen there was no one either.

'Judas!, where were'ee Master Jeremy? Eh? 'Ee should not give this scares to Prudie, tedn't fair, tedn't right, tedn't proper'

Prudie took the child from Ross's arms and started to prepare breakfast for him.

'Where is Demelza?' – Ross asked when his maid ignored his presence.

'Upstairs. Mistress will have breakfast in 'er room '

'Oh. Is she well?'

Prudie did not reply, but her eyes answered the question. Demelza had never taken breakfast in the bedroom like most of the ladies of society did once they were married, maybe it was because she did not know that was the custom and he had never said it to her, but still Ross could not remember that she hadn't done it after giving birth to their children, or barely after she recovered from her convalescence, even after all that had happened, she always had come down to have breakfast with him. Taking advantage that Prudie was busy attending to Jeremy, Ross decided to go talk to Demelza.

He climbed the stairs slowly, trying to think what he would say. He didn't want to incite any fighting like the one of yesterday morning, he just wanted to see her, talk to her as he always did every morning since the day he brought her to Nampara. He decided he would tell her the news of the mine, Demelza always was interested in that.

He stood in front of the door of his own bedroom and hesitated before opening the door, perhaps it was better knock first, he did, but heard no response. What surprised him most wasn't not find her crying, or how beautiful she looked sitting in the middle of the bed with a cup of tea in her hand, she placed it on the tray beside her when he entered the room, it was not that her hair looked more coppery than usual and fell gently on her shoulder. What surprised him most was the tone of her voice. The last time he had seen her she was so angry, so out of herself, but he expected that reaction on his wife, she was a fighter and it was logical for her to react that way. But the Demelza who was watching him at this time, he had never seen her.

'Oh, you're still here. Does Trenwith is not yet in readiness? ... Do you want me to help you pack?' –Demelza said before he could start talking. Her tone was cold and distant, so far away from the screams that he had endured the previous morning.

For some reason he could not meet her eyes, so dodging the question and looking at the quilt on the bed, he started talking of the plans to sell the gear of Wheal Grace, but Demelza didn't let him evade the issue.

'Do you suppose that she'd ever seriously meant to marry George, or surely that what was just a trick to get you to declare your hand? –She kept talking in that peculiar tone.

'I have no idea what she intended' –Ross replied with honesty.

'Still, it worked, did it not? She got what she wanted.'

Ross could not understand what his wife was saying. Surely Elizabeth couldn't know how he would react when she sent that letter... couldn't she? Still, he could not talk about it with Demelza. It was obvious that his plan to talk about Wheal Grace to try to engage in a normal conversation would not work, so he tried to cope as best he could...

'Demelza, I never claimed to be perfect ...' –he said almost whispering.

'Did I ever ask for that? Not as I recall, perhaps the memory serves me ill, but I seem to remember that we promised to forsake all others'

'I realize that I betrayed your trust ...'

'Forfeit'

At that time Ross looked up and saw her emphasize the word with his index finger. For a few seconds every thought escaped out of his mind, a few seconds more and he didn't realize that he was talking again...

'...And that your pride is wounded'

'Pride? My pride?'

A weird smile crossed her face and Demelza looked away in disbelief. Ross also realized that he was not being consistent but before he could say anything to improve the situation his wife looked at him in the eyes again:

'To think I did always look up to you. From the moment I met you I thought that your moral values made you better than others'

'Demelza' –Ross tried to interrupt her but he really didn't know what to say next.

'How wrong I was.'

There was an awkward silence then. Ross was now looking to the stool at the foot of the bed, and he listened more than see the smile in Demelza's voice.

'You talk about pride, when the only pride that always mattered to you is yours. Since when do you care about mine?, maybe you think a scullery maid has no pride... '

'I've never…'

'I heard you! I heard you said it to Elizabeth, in Trenwith. That's what I've always been for you, your kitchen maid and she a fine lady who you always wanted...'

All the colors faded from his face. For a moment it seemed that the floor trembled but it was his legs the ones that were shaking. He tried to remember that night so long ago, the day of the harvest, what he had said? ... A series of meetings with Elizabeth came to his mind one after another, all the conversations he have had in private with her ... how long it have been like that? How many meetings alone with Elizabeth in the last year since the death of Francis? And Demelza alone at home, imagining ... Oh God. He wished the earth would open and swallow him right now...

'Then go to her, do what you've always wanted'

'Demelza, you can't think that, you can not believe that I ...' –But Demelza didn't let him finish.

'Leave. Go away and leave us alone.'

Demelza never once raised his voice. Ross's head was spinning, he felt his heart beating in his ears. There was nothing he could say, the truth was that he wanted to be out of there as soon as possible. He was ashamed. What he had done, what he had said, all of it , and not just to Elizabeth, she knew it. Upon leaving the room he stumbled over the first step and ended up sitting on the edge of the stairs, his head in his hands... How would he fix this? How would he regain the Demelza's trust?

That night he dreamed again that he was running down the cliffs. Trying to reach her, he wanted to hold her, to kiss her... he saw her giving jumps towards the sea, with the scarlet gown flapping behind her and her coppery hair scrambled by the wind.