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In truth, there are days when Ross returns home and Demelza is very aware how different a life they lead here in Darrow based simply on the smell of him.

In Cornwall, she'd have never noticed. They both spent the day hard at work, down in the mine or in the barn or the fields, both of them sweating under the hot sun, moving among the animals without thought, both with callouses on their hands from their work. Demelza would insist they both work equally as hard in Darrow, though she less so at the moment, which is another issue entirely. It's different, though.

With limited warm water, bathing in Cornwall had been something of an event. For the most part everyone had splashed themselves with some water from the basin or gone down to the ocean for a dip in warmer weather, but Darrow is something else. In Darrow there exists showers, an invention for which Demelza is terribly grateful, and there are softly scented soaps that smell like their fields after a rain, or soaps that are bright and sharp, carrying the tang of citrus fruits, or soaps that smell of flowers or cucumbers or all sorts of things she'd have never imagined. The world is very different and so, in some of the strangest ways, she's terribly aware of it.

Such as the scent Ross carries with him when he comes in the door at the end of a very long day.

It's Julia, though, who lets out a shriek of laughter and runs for her mother's legs, toddling dangerously on the way. "Papa," she says, still laughing. "Papa smells."

Demelza can't help but laugh as well, looking at Ross with bright eyes as Abby comes into the room and scoops Julia up from behind Demelza's legs.

"Yes, love," she agrees with a smile. "Yes, tis true, he does."

"You both ought to be kinder to Ross," Abby scolds as she takes Julia from the room, the little girl still laughing and kicking her legs.

"Ought I?" Demelza asks, looking at Ross, her eyes still lit up in amusement. "Am I not kind, Ross?"

Ross is the serious sort, she'd seen it in him for a very long time, since he brought her to Nampara to live and to work for him, but for just a long she's been working at breaking that down bit by bit. Her husband will perhaps always be serious and Demelza will always love him for it, but they do have fun now and again, and he's long since learned how to respond to her gentle teasing.

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It's the first thing any man wants when he first walks through the door of his home, to be immediately bombarded by comments about his offensive smell by both his wife and daughter after a particularly grueling day at work. That doesn't stop him from playfully sticking his tongue at Julia, of course, which sends her into another fit of giggles that he can hear even behind the door to the nursery, leaving Ross free to mock scowl at Demelza.

"Do you expect me to answer that question truthfully?" Ross retorts, hanging his coat before crossing the room to wrap his arms around his wife with a devilish grin. If he smells, let her be covered in his scent, it only serves her right. "You are my wife, you ought to share in all that is mine." He wriggles against her before pressing a kiss to her cheek then taking a step back, rolling his shoulders as he unbuttons the top few buttons of his shirt with a sigh.

It really has been a long day. Even with the weather cooling, the demand for horseback riding lessons only seems to have increased and with the owners still looking for more help at the stables, the workload has only grown larger. Offhandedly, he thinks he really ought to have Damen come in for a visit to the owners to see if he might be a good fit, which Ross already suspects is the case. Until then, he'll have to deal with stiff shoulders, tightened muscles in his neck and back, and the occasional flash of pain in his ankle.

"You should listen to Abby," Ross says, running his hands through his hair as he casts a smirk in his wife's direction as he heads toward the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of water. "Be kinder to your husband, one day he may very well fall apart at the seams."

Though she wrinkles her nose and squirms when Ross wraps his arms around her, she accepts the kiss gladly and follows Ross into the kitchen, anticipating his needs before he even reaches for the glass. She gives him a gentle nudge with her hip, sending him in the direction of a chair, then retrieves a glass from the cupboard and fills it with cool water that she then places in front of him.

"I should scarce believe such things of 'ee, Ross," she says as she sinks into a chair herself and studies him. "Poldarks are made of sterner stuff than that. If 'ee can handle being married to me, you can certainly handle the horses at the stable."

But he's sore. She can see it in the way he holds himself, the stiffness of his movements, even the walk he walks. She suspects his ankle is troubling him, though she's doubtful she'd ever get him to admit to it, which is why she's had to learn how to read his movements and his expressions as best she can. It isn't always possible, Demelza is certain there's much she misses, but his aches are clear enough for her today.

"Abby is preparing to put Julia down for the night," she comments, casually, as if it means little to her. "Tis late, after all." Not terribly, but at this time of year there's little daylight left at all and Julia sleeps well through the night these days. "Perhaps I ought to show 'ee just how kind I can be."

If he'd had more energy, Ross might have protested Demelza's insistence that he sit, but he finds himself sinking easily into one of the chairs at their dining table. The water brings him relief after so much time spent out in the sun. Though the weather has cooled significantly, there's no escaping the sun beating down upon him while he's out riding, and he'd barely had time to rest in between his lessons today. Even Darkie had seemed weary by the day's end, so much so that Ross had made sure to slip him a few more sugar cubes than usual.

Tilting his head at his wife, Ross can't help but eye her skeptically, deciding that the offer could very well go either in his favor or against it. He's just not sure which quite yet. If she's noticed his aches, Ross hadn't intended for it, as he'd much prefer his wife didn't make a fuss over him at all when it comes to what bearable pain he may be in. There's no use in complaining when it's part of his job, and he doesn't, not excessively. He's grateful for the money he makes at the stables, for making an income in a way he hadn't in Cornwall so that he can provide for his family. Coming home with a sore body seems a small price to pay.

Still, he'd like to know what Demelza intends. He has a few things in mind himself.

"And how do you intend to do such a thing?" Ross asks, undeniably curious. "When I smell so foul that you surely can't stand to be so near to me?"

"I've heard tell the bath tub can often take care of such smells," Demelza says, her voice low as if she's sharing a deeply regarded secret with Ross. "And tis entirely possible I may have purchased some rather nice mixes that are said to help one relax."

Salts, they're called, and she supposes they do look quite like salt, even if they don't smell the same at all. What she chooses not to mention to Ross is that they may smell nice and help one move toward relaxation, but they're also meant to ease aching muscles and help soothe sore joints, which it's quite clear to her Ross is in need of tonight. If she doesn't speak of his pain, it'll be far easier to entice him into the bath, of that she's absolutely certain.

"Come," she says, rising from her chair and holding her hand out toward him. "I do suppose I can stand t'be near 'ee long enough to draw a bath."

There's no real worry of running out of warm water. She won't have to run back and forth from the fire to make sure he doesn't catch a chill. Darrow has many benefits, but this may be one of her favourites. At the very least, it's her favourite today, because it allows for her to do something nice for Ross without him complaining it's too much work for her.

It's not quite what Ross had expected but in truth, drawing a bath does sound rather nice about now. He can see what Demelza is doing, Ross knows her well enough to understand that she's noticed the pain he's trying to hide because she nearly always does. She knows his moods, knows what to look for when he's gone sullen or tries a little too hard not to draw attention to certain things. He'd teased her once, long ago, that he'd simply become predictable. Really, it's just that there's never been anyone who has learned him as well as Demelza.

He'd once thought Elizabeth would be the one who could read every last flicker of his expressions; but they'd been young when they'd fallen in love. The man he'd been when they'd met is a far cry from the one whose heart belongs to Demelza.

"I suppose I'll allow it," Ross says, managing to stand without letting out a labored groan. He takes her hand, letting her lead him into their bathroom, and leans against the wall with a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he works at unbuttoning his shirt. If his condition were any different, Ross wouldn't want her to do this for him, not when she's spent the last couple months attending to Jeremy's every last need. At the very least, she's able to go out with the children now, no longer imprisoned to the confines of their apartment; but not for the first time, he thinks about how much more he wants to provide for their family.

"Shouldn't you be the one to relax?" he asks, tone softening. "Or have Jeremy and Julia been nothing but well-behaved the entire day? Somehow, I find that rather hard to believe."

Julia isn't a naught child, not particularly, but she is a mischievous one. She's quite like her mother in that way.

"I have had Abby with me all day," Demelza reminds him as she turns on the faucet and puts her hand under the gush of water, waiting until the temperature is right. Then she stops the drain with the plug and opens the small cabinet under the sink to find the sweet smelling salts she'd purchased. The bag gives measurements and after considering, she opens the bag and empties the approximate amount in the water, watching as the salts dissolve and release their scent into the room. The air itself feels as if it begins to grow heavier as the mirror steams and Demelza turns from the bath tub and moves toward Ross, taking over for him as he works on his shirt.

"Let me," she says softly, undoing the buttons one by one until the shirt hangs open. The shirts here aren't like the ones he would have worn at home, the buttons instead going all the way to the bottom, but she must admit, they're fetching in their own way. Giving him a little smile, she pushes the material off his shoulders, then lets her hands fall to his belt without pulling her gaze from his.

"Besides, tis only you Julia misbehaves for," she teases. "For she knows you will never be truly capable of being angry with her. She's heard you threaten to hit me and not go through with it too many times, whereas she knows just how likely I am to bite you when you misbehave."

She is only joking, of course, knowing Ross would never raise a hand to her, not knowing what he does of her father. And while she is quite prone to biting him, it's only ever in jest, and neither of them are capable of doing anything to hurt their perfect little girl, no matter how naughty she might be.

Ross's hands fall down to his sides as he lets Demelza undress him, watching her closely as he fingers move deftly down the length of his shirt. The bathroom mirror is fogging with steam from the bath, the air grows warmer, heavier, and Ross briefly lets his eyes slip shut as the shirt falls to the ground and Demelza's hands fall to his trousers. The smells of the salts wafting from the bathtub are pleasant, Ross can't deny it, and he takes a slow breath in before letting out a long exhale, letting some of the tension in his shoulders fall away under his wife's hands.

It's just the two of them in here. Abby may be in the nursery with the children, but she won't disturb them, Ross knows that. So for all intents and purposes, it's just them, sharing this moment after what's been such a long, tiresome day, and Ross is glad for it. Being parents of two small children doesn't necessarily allow for many moments like this, when they can take the time to relax, at least not until after they've fallen asleep. That's barring any interruptions in the middle of the night, of course, but Ross tries to put all that from his mind for right now. He may be a stubborn man, being a Poldark, but he's willing to let it all go for the sake of letting Demelza tend to him this way tonight.

"Did you ever think I'd be the lenient one?" he asks, blinking his eyes open and giving Demelza a small but genuinely amused smile. "For all my threats, Julia seems to find me more humorous than anything else. I could make George Warleggan tremble in his fashionable boots and gaudy coats but my wrath is utterly lost on the two-year-old." He pauses then, his smile growing a little wider, more teasing. "It'd do me well if you were to stop biting me in front of the children. We wouldn't want them to think their father can't defend himself against their monstrous mother, now would we?"

"Yes," she answers instantly as she unbuckles her husband's trousers and lets them slip to the floor of the bathroom. Modern undergarments are relatively funny to her still, but she manages to tuck her fingers in the waist of the ones Ross is wearing today, tugging them down without a hint of a smile, because for all she does truly love to tease him, there are times when she wants for nothing more than to just be serious with him. He is so terribly handsome, this man she's married, and she is so very lucky to be here with him.

"After I told you of Julia and you assured me as you did and I was no longer so afraid 'ee might grow bored of me the rounder I got, I was able to think on it a little," she continues, taking Ross by the hand and leading him toward the steaming tub. She lets go of him just long enough to turn off the water, then turns back to face him and takes both his hands in hers. She urges him gently toward the water, encouraging him to get in and sink down, to enjoy the heat and the weightlessness of it all, to really relax in this little world she's created for him. It may only be for ten or twenty minutes, but in that time it can be just theirs if they want it to be.

"And so I thought on it," she continues softly. "And I thought of the man I know 'ee to be, one who may be harsher than he means to be sometimes, but only when pushed to that point. I thought of the man who took me from my father to keep me safe and I thought of the man who did everything he could to make sure those around him had enough food and shelter and could work for their fair wages and I thought of the man who was always so gentle with Verity and his old aunt and I knew in an instant, any child of yours would never fear their father the way I did mine. So, yes, Ross. I knew twas you who'd be the lenient one and I'm glad every day for it."

Sinking into the hot bath is more satisfying than Ross had imagined it would be.

This wouldn't have been the same in Cornwall, it's one change that makes all the difference, and he's glad for it because he certainly wouldn't have allowed Demelza to go to the trouble of doing this otherwise. Letting his eyes slip shut for just a moment, slipping further into the tub until the water reaches just above his shoulders, Ross listens to his wife speak. He nearly protests that he would ever have though her pregnant belly unappealing, but he manages to keep quiet because Ross knows she'll make good on her playful threats to bite him if he interrupts.

He smiles then, a chuckle rumbling low in his throat and making ripples in the water. "You make me sound like a decent man," he teases, blinking his eyes back open before reaching out to grasp her hand, gently brushing the calloused pad of his thumb over her soft skin. His tone grows more serious as he sits up a little straighter, wanting to make sure Demelza knows his intention isn't to brush off all of what she's saying. "I may have done all those things, but it would be all for nothing if I didn't have someone to share my life with. You were unexpected, Demelza, entirely. You make me a better man. If not for you, I would be very much alone, I'm quite sure of that."

He wouldn't have Julia and Jeremy, to be sure, and that alone breaks his heart to consider; but a life without Demelza would destroy him. He's never been more certain of anything.

"Oh, yes, I am often unexpected," Demelza agrees with a grin, reaching for the soft cloth they keep hanging on the edge of the tub for instances such as this. She dips it into the water, letting it soak, then drags it up Ross' chest, the warm water streaming down his skin for a long moment before she repeats the motion, helping him to wash away the dirt and dust and weight of his long day.

Though she is prone to speaking her mind and, as such, is prone to tell people how much they mean to her, it isn't often the sentiment is returned. It isn't that people don't love her, Demelza knows they do, but she also knows she seems to have found affection and friendships in people who are often as reticent as her husband. It isn't something she minds, she knows they express their appreciation for her in other ways and having lived so long with Ross she's grown used to finding kindness in actions rather than words, but the words themselves still appeal deeply and warm her heart when she hears them. Especially from her husband, a man who would claim not to know the first thing about expression his feelings.

So she doesn't try to brush the words off or make light of them. Ross is saying so much to her right now and to pretend otherwise would be to do him a great disservice. She continues her ministrations with the cloth, dragging it up to his shoulders full of water, then squeezing it all out and beginning again. Then she leans in and kisses him, slow and thoughtful, her eyes open, studying the way his lashes are so dark against his skin, the light dotting of freckles on his nose and his cheeks. She loves this man so much, so much more than she had ever even realized until suddenly she just knew.

"Then let us be glad you found me," she says softly.

Ross merely hums his agreement, his eyes fluttering closed again as he lets himself to enjoy being cared for by his wife. They aren't always so tender with each other, though he supposes he can say that is more the case now than it had been in Cornwall. Perhaps they owe that to the luxuries this modern life has allowed them, between the wages from their jobs and the considerably lower cost of things like food and clothing. By no means are they exceptionally wealthy but then, they'd never been exceptionally wealthy while together. Still, they're not even close to living in poverty, either. They make enough to provide a good life for their family, a comfortable one, and Ross does want to give them more but that will come in time.

He already has plans to begin working toward building a home for them, out in the country, with help he wouldn't have considered asking for had it not been offered. That will all be kept quiet, of course. If Demelza were to hear of it, she'd want to contribute in some way or another, and Ross doesn't want her to concern herself with it at all. She'd carried their children, now Ross will take on this task, and he'll do it without complaint.

Before he can restrain himself, a soft moan escapes him as Demelza's lips meet his own. The kiss is gentle, almost chaste, and the cloth Demelza holds lays against his chest, cooling in the open air. He lifts a hand out of the water, not caring that he's dripping on Demelza's dress as he rests it against the back of her head over wild curls, urging her closer. Abby's in just the other room, he knows that, but they deserve this moment. They deserve this short time alone together.

"You should come in with me," he says, lips still brushing against hers. "That's another thing we should be glad for, hmm? This tub is big enough for the both of us."

Already her hair is wet from his hand and there are droplets of water on her dress that will surely dry soon enough, so long as she takes care not to get it wet any further than it already is. It does seem that Ross' suggestion is the best course of action, for if she and Ross come out of the bathroom and her dress is soaked through, Abby is sure to give them that look she often gives Demelza when they come out of the bedroom after a few moments alone or when she goes downstairs to greet Ross before the children. It often isn't as if they've ever done anything to deserve it and it amuses Demelza more than not -- amuses Abby, too, she greatly suspects -- but she doesn't want to give her a good reason to chuckle behind her hand and roll her eyes at them fondly.

So she stands, draping the cloth over the side of the tub once again, then retreats to the small vanity in the bathroom. Not bothering to take any particular care, she pins her hair up, sweeping it off her neck and away from her face, doing her best to keep it up so it won't get wet. It's hardly fancy, but she doubts fancy is what Ross is looking for.

Her hair taken care of, she reaches behind herself and unlaces the back of her dress, undoing it with the practiced ease of someone who's long since adjusted to the clothing she has to wear. Once it's loose, she's able to slip out of it, leaving herself in the stockings and shift she still wears. It isn't quite like home, but she's not yet adjusted to modern undergarments, prefers not to confine herself to a bra or the terrible, itchy underwear women wear now. This is easier, too, to slip out of. Her stockings are draped carefully over the rack for the towels and then she tugs her shift down and away before she steps closer to the tub again.

"You must be very quiet," she says, pressing one finger to her lips, pleased with her own daring to be standing here entirely unclothed for her husband to see. She's not embarrassed, is quite confident in her own appeal, but there are still times when such a simple act -- just being naked without worrying what others might think -- feels like something of a rebellion.

"Julia is asking plenty of questions lately and this is not a conversation I'm prepared to have with our daughter," she tells him with a small grin before she carefully steps over the edge of the tub and lowers herself down to sit between Ross' legs.

"Do you find that I often speak too often and too loudly?" Ross asks dryly, though he gazes at her with unmasked appreciation as she undresses, simply watching as he waits for her to climb into the tub with him.

He lets out a huff as he shifts to let her settle, wrapping his arms around her waist then pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Let us not discuss the day we have to have that conversation with her," he says, shaking his head adamantly. "If I had my way, it would be never. I'd keep her locked away from any suitors, all of whom are surely to be terrible. She'd be our little Julia forever. If I had my way."

Yet, whether he likes it or not, Julia will grow. There's no stopping it, try as he might, but the beauty of it is that she gets to grow at all. She hadn't been given that chance in Cornwall, but she has it here. Ross has no doubt she'll be as compassionate as her mother, as beautiful and kind, which makes it all the more worrisome because he's certain there's a fair number of men in Darrow who'd care to court Demelza if not for his presence here.

"Now I can't stop thinking about it," Ross complains, letting his hands glide upward until his palms are gently brushing over her breasts. "I thought this bath was meant to calm me."

"Is it not, Ross?" Demelza asks, her head tipped to the side so she might lean back against his shoulder. A little shiver ripples through her at his touch and she smiles faintly. "Tis strange, for I'm that relaxed myself."

But she understands well what he is saying. When Demelza thinks on it, which she has, and at great length, she's been unable to decide what she feels about her children growing up in a place like Darrow. Cornwall, of course, might have been difficult for them in their own ways. Money was hard to come by and even if the mines did prosper at some point, there would always be the possibility it would dwindle once again. Mining in Cornwall was never a guarantee, but instead always a risk. And a way of life. One that was bred into the blood and could ever be escaped. Even here in Darrow she feels it from time to time, the need to see the mines rising tall against the backdrop of the ocean.

Mining is dangerous, too, and for that she's grateful to Darrow. Their children may find other dangers, but at least she's comforted knowing Jeremy will never find himself caught in a rockfall.

"I like that Julia will be able to make her own decisions," she says softly. "I like t'think perhaps she would have regardless, but you know what it is like, Ross. You know how strong women are looked upon. Our world wants women to be quiet and to listen and to serve and this world... well, there is still some of that, yes, but there is so much more, too. I'm happy for that."

She's both right and wrong, Ross thinks. It's true, he has no doubt Julia would have grown to be strong-willed and fierce as her mother is, under Demelza's influence and simply with the blood of a Poldark running through her, she could have become nothing else; and yet, she wouldn't have grown at all, had they not come to Darrow. It's hardly the first time he's thought about this, but he tries more often than not now to keep that grief he remembers feeling so vividly at bay. There's nothing to grieve here, they have two healthy children now, but Ross knows he will never forget what it'd been like to hold his dying daughter in his arms.

Julia and Jeremy both have a future here, so does Demelza. They all do, they're capable of doing the things they want because they live in a world that will let them. There's still prejudice in this world, Ross sees it, and he's hard on himself some days for not doing more to dismantle it but it's not what they'd known in Cornwall. Darrow is nothing like Cornwall at all. For all that he misses home, unbearably so some days, Ross is grateful that there is so much for available to them here.

"She will thrive here," Ross says, "I've no doubt of that. She'll take after her mother, her ever hard-working mother, and she'll push her brother to do the same. She's a Poldark, after all, and we Poldarks are stubborn, which you well know. We won't let anyone tell her where her place is because it will be her right to decide and when she does, we'll be there to show her how proud we are." He smiles, lowering his head to press a kiss against the back of Demelza's neck then trailing his lips across her skin to her shoulder. "We'll be there for both of them. I'll be there for all of you."

That is something Demelza has never doubted, especially not since his arrival in Darrow, and she tilts her head a little, letting Ross do as he will, smiling all the while. He'll be here for them, for all of them. He does so much as it is, protects them and works so hard at a time when Demelza feels as if she doesn't work hard enough to help him bring home money for their family. He gives so much to their children, to her, and somehow he still manages to be here. Even with the long hours, she doesn't feel as if he is ever particularly absent, and she relishes in their time together, knowing how lucky she is.

Some of the mothers in the small group she's met at the park often complain. Their husbands work too long and never see their children. They're inattentive or cold, giving little affection. Demelza had worried the same thing might happen to her, that such things are perhaps impossible to prevent, but this evening right here is evidence such things will not happen to their marriage.

"I know you will, Ross," she says happily, smoothing her hands down his strong thighs under the softly scented water. "I've not doubted that, not for a moment. I know how much you do for us and how much you love us." She grins then, sudden and quick, shifting back against him. "Truth be told, it'd be especially difficult in this moment not to know how much 'ee do love me."

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