Little stories of love and joy.

Ross

Title: Shadows of the Past

Chapter 1: A Night of Revelations

Ross Poldark returned home from a stifling ball, his heart heavy with frustration and anger. The ball had been a necessary evil, a social obligation he couldn't avoid. As he entered his dimly lit house, he was relieved to find Desmerelda, his loyal maid, waiting up for him.

Desmerelda's eyes widened as she took in Ross's disheveled appearance. His suit was torn, a deep cut marred his face, and his knuckles were bruised. She had seen him engage in fights before, but this seemed different, more intense.

"Mr. Poldark, what happened?" Desmerelda asked, her voice filled with concern.

Ross grunted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Another bloody fight, Desmerelda. It seems I can't escape them, no matter where I go."

Desmerelda fetched a bottle of bitter ale, knowing it was something Ross turned to when he was at his worst. She handed it to him, silently urging him to drink and find solace in its bitter taste.

Ross took a long swig from the bottle, the liquid burning his throat as it went down. He sighed heavily, the weight of the evening's events still weighing heavily on him. "This fight, Desmerelda, it will be front-page news tomorrow. The scandal will follow me like a shadow."

Desmerelda watched as Ross began to clean his wounds, his movements angry and frustrated. She had seen him in this state before, but it always pained her to witness his pain. "I'm sorry, Mr. Poldark. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Ross glanced at Desmerelda, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and exhaustion. "Thank you, Desmerelda, but there's nothing you can do. I'll have to face the consequences of my actions alone."

Desmerelda nodded, understanding the weight of his words. She had been by Ross's side for years, witnessing his triumphs and failures. She knew that sometimes, he needed to face his demons alone.

As Ross continued to tend to his wounds, he cursed under his breath when he realized the extent of the damage to his suit. "Damn it! This was my best suit, and now it's ruined."

Desmerelda approached him, her voice gentle. "I can mend it for you, Mr. Poldark. It won't be as good as new, but it will be presentable."

Ross looked at her, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Desmerelda. I appreciate your help."

As Desmerelda set to work on repairing the torn suit, the room fell into a comfortable silence. Ross's mind was filled with thoughts of the fight, the consequences he would face, and the shadows of his past that seemed to haunt him at every turn.

Little did he know that this night would mark the beginning of a new chapter in his life, one filled with unexpected twists and turns, love and loss, and the constant struggle to reconcile his past with his present.