Author's note: To those following my other Poldark story (A Demelza of His Own), don't worry, I'm not abandoning it. It just so happened that I was in a super angsty mood, and having seen some of the clips from the last episode that aired in the UK, this story came to mind. Now, I have a general idea of what's going to happen next on the show and am completely aware that this story would never happen. Still, it's one of the many scenarios that popped into my brain as I was thinking about current events on the show and how they could be resolved - or how I wish they would be resolved.

Hope you enjoy despite the angst of it all. If you have a moment, drop a line of review!

What You Deserve

Ross Poldark entered Nampara, much as he had done every day for the past week.

With shoulders slumped, head hung low, no joy in his step.

And a despair so deep, it swirled around him like a dark, ominous cloud. He pulled it into his lungs with each breath. He tasted it with each bite of food. He felt it crawling all over him, burrowing into him until it had become like a second skin.

How could he enter any other way?

His home, the very life he'd made – that he loved – with the woman he loved, was tenuously hanging by a thread because of one foolish, reckless act.

And he had no one to blame but himself.

He deserved every once of anger, every hurtful word, each tearful outburst and every broken dish smashed against the wall. He even deserved her stony silence.

No, he had no one to blame but himself.

He'd been given an angel to love and cherish, and instead, he had taken every precious word between them, each loving moment, every ounce of trust and hope and had burned it to ash.

And for what? For a moment in a past that was never meant to be?

What he wouldn't give to undo what he'd done. To heal the wounds he had caused. To put back together the woman he had broken.

But he could not.

Only patience, time and love could do that.

If, in fact, it could be done at all.

He paused at the entrance and steeled himself for the deafening silence that was sure to greet him. Then, venturing into the parlor, Ross removed his hat and cast his gaze around taking note that the warmth usually permeating the room was eerily absent.

As was the source of that warmth, the very heart of his home.

A sense of foreboding slithered through him, setting his teeth on edge.

"Prudie? Where's Demelza?" Ross asked when his gaze finally settled on their disheveled servant as she sat in front of the fire playing with Jeremy.

Prudie struggled to her feet as Jeremy waved a greeting in Ross' direction then promptly resumed building his architectural masterpiece with little wooden blocks, wholly unconcerned with the turmoil roiling the two people that had given him life.

"She be gone, sir." Prudie answered after dropping a quick curtsy in Ross' direction.

"Gone? Gone where?" Though not intended, his voice sharpened.

"Didn't say, sir." Her head bowed slightly, Prudie's gaze slipped from his face as she delivered her next bit of news. "Took off nearly three hours ago."

"Three hours?" Ross felt his chest tighten with panic. That sense of foreboding solidified, took root and began to grow. He immediately knew something was wrong. Very wrong. "What happened?"

"Not sure, sir." Prudie answered, her face reddening under his intense scrutiny. "She left shortly after her…visitor. Said she needed to be alone."

"Visitor." Ross repeated, his mind in overdrive. Whose presence could have driven Demelza from her own home for such a length of time? Only one name came rushing to mind. "Who was here, Prudie?"

"Sir, I…"

He took a menacing step forward, his eyes hard as coal, his tone demanding. "Who. Was. Here?"

Prudie swallowed hard before whispering a name that had become like a curse within the walls of Nampara. "Mistress Elizabeth Poldark, sir."

Having his worst fears confirmed, Ross Poldark spun on his heels and stormed out of the house without another word.

Tbc…