Chapter Eleven - Mistress Abigail Poldark

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I hummed a tune that my father used to as I made my way back to the house. My home, my Nampara. It was weird, it was my Nampara. Mistress Abigail of Nampara. Mrs Poldark. It's funny how an idea you have shatters and the sight and realisation it will never happen. I have had many since I lost my father.

I thought I would always be a spinster.

I thought that I would be forever alone

That I would disappoint my father

That Ross and Elizabeth would marry

those were just four of many thought that I had crossed my mind. Yet here I was, surrounded by people, married and accomplished that I have someone who cares, marrying Ross is still a shock to me. Given how my life had been going I would have settled for Mistress stasis or lover not caring about what people think anymore.

I stopped as the sun set behind me. Ross was indifferent that he would be home. But he had taken to coming back despite earlier statements, thought he would be home by now. I shrug it off and went back to doing my chores. I continued humming making more bread when i heard someone clearing their throat. I jumped and looked back.

"Ross." I breath as he comes in. "I thought you would be staying in town."

"I have a home do I not...and a wife." he says placing his things on the table. I smile slightly as I continue needing the dough

"I sometimes forget." I admit

"That I live here?" He questioned playfully making me chuckle.

"No, that I'm your wife." I clarify, he comes over

"Well let me remind you." he twist me round making me squeal slightly, then kisses me, which makes me smile even more. "Why are you up so late?" he wondered

"I have chores."

"Suppose I have other plans for you..." he trails off holding my waist close to him as I rest my hands on the dimly lit table of the kitchen.

"Like?" I question but he smiles coyly "Yes, Ross?" he grabs my hand and pulls me away

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The two of its lay in bed, I leaning on his chest tracing circles on him. My thought making themselves known to him and the world of silence in our room.

"Folks will wonder and not understand. A part of me still doesn't understand." i voice

"Understand what?"

"We, Us." I state looking up at him. He trails his finger up and down my back.

"You are not required to understand. You required to accept it as a fact of life ." he replied making me roll my eyes.

"I know that, I was raised in the same class as you don't forget. We're not to be a secret are we?" I question

"Why should we?" I sat up to face him properly holding the sheets to my chest.

"Ross, you do know what is to come right? I am not exactly Ruth Teague. The prim and proper lady that every thinks that you should be with." I scowl, I think he failed to see the repercussions of our elopement. I had yet to know his reasons and something told me that they were different from mine. Marrying me despite who I was born, it could affect how people perceived him and his reliability.

"When have you cared what anyone else thinks?"

"Hardly ever, but that's me." I lay back down in arms.

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-3rd Person-

Ross told Francis of his marriage to Abigail and then relayed it to Trenwith. It was met with mixed reviews. Technically, Abigail was a Chynoweth and of the upper class, she had been raised so. But on the other her parentage and the transition from Lady to Kitchen maid went against her.

"Abigail?" Elizabeth questioned her husband as she tried to comprehend that her former flame had married her sister.

"He's done it now." Charles coughed as Verity put milk in his tea

"Abigail was raised as I, father. A respectable woman of age for a good family." Verity defended the younger woman and now cousin in law.

"What the devil can he mean by it?" Francis questioned

People of Cornwall were split into two sides, those who were happy and those who were not. Either way it was hard to tell, this was not as clear cut as most marriages. Ross began to read out a letter from Verity.

"My dear Ross, I am the last person to criticise your attachment. But I would like to be the first to congratulate you and wish you joy. I presently taken up with tending father but I hope soon to call to offer felicitation in person." he relayed to his new bride "There. We have at least one friend."

-Abigail-

I came in from picking vegetables when I heard Demelza's annoyed voice. It sounded like she was having a one sided argument. I hoped this was not about rum again.

"Do you think it's not as strange to her as it is to you?" Demelza grumbled. i stood in the shadows listening "Do ye imagine that she ever looked or expected it? She left the life she had behind and became one of us, a hard working, strong woman, who tried her best despite what the world threw at her. Yet you have the gaul to stand there when despite the ring now on her finger she still works harder than the two of ye.

You might want to think of that the next time you judge her." she was defending me, to Jud and Prudie. a hint of a smile crossed my lips as there was a moment of silence.

"Well she does still do her chores." Prudie commented

"and most of your." Jud added

"And it is better than taking orders from some fudge faced baggage with drop curls." I walked in

"Is everything okay?" I ask plopping down the basket. The three of them looked at one another

"Yes, Mistress Abigail." Prudie nodded then took her leave as did Jud. I turned to Demelza and took her hand

"Thank you." she smiled slightly and went back to what she was doing.

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