A/N I always thought that it was a little bit too ambitious for anyone to write a sequel or maybe even a fanfiction about Gone With The Wind, because it's a master piece. I myself am one of those insanely obsessed fans of the book (I also love the movie) for years, and have phases each year when I re-read parts of the book and re-watch the movie. I had to put this down. It's far from the perfection of Mrs. Mitchel, but I can only hope it continued this way.
It was almost midnight, and the entire house was quiet. Mammy and the children were long ago asleep and Scarlett's sisters didn't live on Tara anymore.
It's been exactly ten months.
His words were still fresh in her head as though he had said them to her the very same day, and they hurt more with each minute.
The night was odd, dark, moonless and just one of many that were keeping her awake. She hated her bed and was avoiding to sleep there. Instead to change into her bed clothes, she was choosing to stay dressed in her daily clothes and do work while the rest of her family was sleeping. She would have prepared herself tea, not because she enjoyed drinking it, but because it was a good camouflage for Mammy, who sometimes would have woken up in the middle of the night and checked on her while she was sitting in the library with a cup of tea. Little did Mammy know, Scarlett was pouring just half cup of tea and the rest of it was Brandy or Rum.
Rhett was nowhere to be found. The children were asking questions about him and she didn't know what to answer. He was working, sailing, making money… but even she didn't believe her own words when she would have say that to them.
Mammy knew. She needn't have to say it to Scarlett. The way she was looking at her with eyes full with sadness and disbelief, were killing Scarlett.
She tried many times to write him a letter, telling him that she'd rather die than to be with someone else, rather be hungry, starving and poor than be without him. She'd have just write a simple declaration of love all over the white sheet, then would have changed her mind and burned the letter. The ones shе thought were good enough for him to read, she wasn't able to send for she didn't know where to send them. The first one she sent to the address in their luxurious home in Atlanta, but she found it on the floor when she went back there three months after she came back to Tara. It wasn't even open.
She didn't let her self cry out the bone in her throat. She knew that he was coming back there, and the fact that he just passed by the letter was making her heart bleed harder with every thought of it.
That night she decided to indulge the tea mixed with lots of Brandy in order to fall asleep fast on the armchair in the library. After Rhett left, she never in those ten months even thought to visit Ashley, nor even asked how he was, how he was managing without Melanie or how Beau was doing without his beloved mother.
She simply had no will or strength to go there and take care of them. She hated the idea to be near Ashley, it was disgusting her, reminding her of losing Rhett and she preferred to stay away from Atlanta.
Another reason she hated sleeping was that she no longer had the nightmare where she was running in the fog. Now she knew, she was able to understand that running in the fog and looking for something was what her life turned into – she was looking for her husband and wasn't able to find him.
Every time she'd had closed her eyes, she was seeing Bonnie falling from the horse. It was exhausting and murderous for her fragile heart. She was promising herself that she'd go back to Atlanta only to put fresh flowers on her beloved baby's grave, but every tomorrow was turning into another, and it never seemed to happen. Some days she preferred to think that Rhett took the child with him and she wanted to believe hard in that.
Ten months, and she hadn't have come up with a way to get him back. If she only knew where he was, if he was alive...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud horse steps. Fear prevailed her heart because there weren't any men in the house and the appropriate time for visit was long past. She could have sense the bad news, and even though she was beyond mortified she run to the door and opened it before the visitor had the chance to knock.
A woman covered with long black cape was standing in front of her and she could have only see her nose and her red painted lips. She was tall, quite taller than Scarlett, and the perfume she wore was too heavy, almost vulgar for a lady. When she removed the cape from her head, Scarlett saw her ginger curls and instantly knew who that woman was. Her worn out face and pale gray tired eyes were pleadingly looking in her.
"Miss O'Hara?" – The woman asked with a steady voice.
"Mrs. Butler" – Scarlett corrected, raising her right eyebrow. – "Who are you?" – She hissed, although she could have remember the moment when she and Mellie met her.
"It's Belle Watling, but according to your face I assume you already know." – She replied in her calm manner, sensing hostility from Scarlett's side.
"What's wrong?" – Scarlett asked not hiding her irritation and fear.
"He's not well." – Scarlett clenched the doorknob so hard she could have felt it digging into her flesh. – "You have to come with me."
"What is it? Is he wounded?" – Scarlett asked, stepping closer to Belle.
"No. But you have to come with me. In Atlanta."
Scarlett was cutting her with her pale green eyes, almost not believing her words. She was observing her face, imagining Rhett's hands caressing it the same way he caressed hers. She could have feel disturbance in her intestines from that thought.
"My children and my maid will stay alone. I'll come in the city first thing in the morning." – Scarlett said, preparing to close the door in front of the woman's face.
"Mrs. Butler" – The woman pronounced her name slowly, like she hated to say it. Scarlett knew that feeling, knew how it felt to call Melanie, Mrs. Wilkes. But she was gloating, anyway. – "I promised that man to get you there, I don't know how serious the situation is, he won't stop calling you." – The woman dared to grab her elbow and drag her out.
God, Scarlett felt like vomiting because she could have only see this Belle woman as a disgusting and filthy creature. She hated her for years, was dreaming of harming her, because Scarlett never forget that she was the next stop after her and Rhett would have quarreled, or after that night when he carried her up in her bedroom.
She knew perfectly well that it wasn't Belle's fault, but she preferred to have someone to blame on.
"Let me write a note and take my scarf." – Within few minutes, the two of them were in Belle's luxurious, black carriage on their way to Atlanta.
The horses were running fast and Scarlett could have felt every bump on the road. She refused to speak to that woman, like it wasn't enough she was already in her monstrously big and vulgar carriage. If Ellen could have seen her… God's nightgown, she planned to yell at Rhett, to scream at him for this. It would have been really better for him if he was deadly ill, otherwise she wouldn't have accept any excuses why she agreed on that ride with the prostitute.
She would have occasionally looked at her with the corner of her eye. Belle's face was old and heavily covered with make up, rouge on her cheeks and on her lips, her eyebrows were visibly lined with a dark pencil or coal maybe, Scarlett couldn't tell. Her hair was certainly not natural color, and she hated Rhett with passion in that moment, imagining him and her sharing a bed. It would have been better if he was dead, than be with that tasteless woman.
"When this happened?" – Scarlett broke the silence.
"I don't understand what "this" means?" – Belle replied.
"His condition. You say you don't know what it is…"
"Nobody knows. I called a few very respected doctors to check him, but nobody could have found anything wrong with him. I didn't need them to tell me that, when I could have easily tell that he suffers from a broken heart." – She replied, not even looking at Scarlett. – "He came to me about ten months ago to tell me he'd go back home in Charlston, then he came back again, a month later, mad and drunk, hating that town, he was unable to say a coherent sentence, but I knew…I knew you were the reason."
Scarlett was biting her cheeks hard because she intentionally wanted to hurt herself.
"He went to England and he was gone for about five or six months, I almost thought he did something reckless." – Her voice was getting shaky and she covered her mouth with her gloved hand.
"Why did you come to me, I`m sure he already told about... everything" – Scarlett cut her coldly.
"Because it's you he wants." - Belle mildly choke on her words. - "He's delirious, and won't stop muttering your name. Sometime he curses you with passion, sometimes he mentions your little girl and…"
"Hush!" – Scarlett yelled. – "Do not mention my child with that mouth!" – She commanded. She forbade herself to cry in front of that woman, even though the tears were on the edge of her eyes.
"I'm a mother too, Mrs. Butler. " – Belle wept.
"Please, let's just get over with this. I don't want to speak to you anymore."
The kept riding in silence. Scarlett's brain was flooded with bad thoughts – what if the whole thing was a practical joke? What if Rhett tells her that he is divorcing her and marrying someone else, maybe even the whore, and she couldn't help herself, so let tears roll down her face. She was only glad Mammy was asleep, because she would have tried to change her mind or probably wouldn't have even let her go in the same carriage with a woman like Belle Watling.
….
The two-story house was dark and oddly silenced. Scarlett expected to see semi naked girls, giggling and drinking, gentlemen who would hide their faces, coming and going inside, gasps and sighs... Belle walked in front of her, opening the door. When Scarlett didn't move from the spot in front of the carriage, Belle turned around.
"This will not ruin your reputation, Mrs. Butler. Please! I'm not taking you to a tour round the house." – Scarlett finally took a few steps towards the house, with a bone in her throat. This was it. She had dreamed of seeing him, getting him back and never in her wildest dreams she thought it was going to happen in a brothel. Her heart was pounding like crazy, scared to death of what she was about to see and hear. Belle Watling and women like her didn't knock on your door in the middle of the night, bringing you happy news. With heavy feet she got inside the house.
The walls were covered with burgundy wallpapers and carpets in the same color. The hallways and the staircase were mildly enlightened, and there were no people to be seen around. Belle's heavy perfume was floating in the air.
"We don't work these past few weeks. " – Belle noticed her observing the place. – "It was the least I could do to help him rest." – She started climbing the stairs, and Scarlett walked behind her. The room where Rhett was resting was the last one in the hallway and Belle simply showed her with her hand, not leading her in. Scarlett stood alone like a statue for few minutes in front of it. She inhaled deeply and then opened the door.
She didn't remember ever seeing Rhett ill or tired. Now he was in front of her eyes, lying in the wide baldachin bed. His eyes were closed, his right arm was resting over his lower chest and the other one next to him. He was still wearing his wedding ring, she noticed and a sad little smile spread on her lips.
Her lower mouth was trembling, but she walked towards the bed ignoring the small sign of her inner disturbance. His face seemed pale in the dim light of the candles. There was no sign of the well trimmed face he always had. She could have tell he wasn't shaved for a week or so. His chest were moving lightly. She sat next to him on the bed with no hesitating, even though she knew that that was the infamous Belle's bed, where they… Oh…She covered her mouth.
"Rhett" – She whispered, placing her small palm over his. He did not react anyhow. Gently she took his hand into hers and placed her lips on his knuckles. She was waiting for him to open his eyes, to say something, but nothing happened. Her pale green eyes, wet from tears, were traveling from his face down to his chest, just to be sure if he was still breathing. – "I'm here." – She said.
He opened his eyes with effort, letting them adjust to the candlelight.
"My pet..." – He whispered and a small smile dragged on his lips. – "You're here... Have I died?" – He asked, closing his eyes again.
"No" – She cried. – "But you don't feel well, I'm here now."
Slowly he started waking up and his eyes opened a bit wider.
"I'm praying Bonnie to take me." – He said slowly.
"No" – Scarlett's crying was getting louder. – "You're going to be well. I'm here, I'll take you home and get you the best doctors." – She sniffed. – "I waited for you. I wrote you a letter and..."
"How about your Ashley? Do you take care of him, like you promised Miss Melly?" – Even in his deepest weakness, he was still able to ask her about Ashley with mockery in his tired voice.
"No. I haven't seen him since the funeral." – She pressed another kiss on his knuckles.
"Don't lie to me, Scarlett" – He said quietly. – "I beg you."
"I'm not lying to you. I don't care about him or anyone from that family, although Melly is rolling in her grave because I didn't keep my promise. I only want you Rhett, I only want you." – She kept weeping.
"Would you…" – He took a deep breath and cleared his throat. – "Would you mind lying next to me. I think I'm forgetting your scent." - His eyes were pleading yet fearful of what she was about to say or do.
She didn't hesitate and immediately placed herself next to him, firmly wrapping her frame around his. His shoulders and arms were still strong, but she could have felt that he had lost weight. – "Are you really here?" – He whispered. She squeezed him tighter with her arms. Slowly he removed his arm from his chest to her face, gently caressing it. – "Pray to forgive me, my pet, for asking you such thing to lie next to a varming in a whore's bed…"
"What happened, Rhett? What happened to you?" – She asked quietly.
"I thought…" – He started talking, his voice betraying him. – "I thought I would have recover. I was wooing decent women, dancing with them, complimenting their ladylike manners… But I was with whores too… lots of them, but how can you actually forget when your wedding ring is still on your finger, how can you forget when you gave your heart years ago, on that barbecue. And I wanted to leave you, to divorce you, to forget that you exist, but your eyes, my pet… How can anybody forget thise devilish eyes? I was going to end this marriage, but everyday I'd have found a good reason to delay it. To let it for tomorrow. And when I finally made the decision… Belle said, are you going to throw her to that man just like that, serve her to him without a fight?" – He stopped. Only her quiet weeping and occasional sniffing were interrupting the quietness of the floor. The candles were no longer burning. – "I got sick from the thought. Did I ever really fight for you, or was it all just my luck and your mild infatuation with me? I couldn't… Did I ever do anything to show you my love? All I did was running away and lying, because I was mortified from you.
"I love you, Rhett" – She whispered, caressing his face and every time her palm would have reached his lips, he'd have kissed it.
"I couldn't just put you right in his arms. Despite my words… Every time I was coming back. Every time. Every morning I'd have promised myself I won't go back to you this time, and then every night the words you said to me before I coldly left you were ringing in my head. Can' t you say I'm a coward, Scarlett? Who needs a man like that. I deserved all of it. I really am a varmint. I killed Bonnie and the other baby…"
"No! Shhh" – She hushed him. – "It was a terrible destiny. Rest, Rhett."
She could have felt his uneasiness, even though he was tired and weak. She knew how he felt. She was broken, ill, crazy, mad and sad in the same time, but she had to stay sane for her children, for Mammy and for Tara. She had to be sane, because there was no other way to get him back, she knew.
"Did he come to you?"- He continued, like he had completely forgot what she said.
"No. "
"Just let me die in peace, Scarlett. Did he chase you? Did he come to you, knowing that I was away?"
"No, he didn't. Even if he did, I'd have closed the door to him. Don't ask such questions. I told you, I love you. Only you."
And then she turned his face towards hers and started pressing light kisses on his cheek, his chin and lips. It was the same sensation, the same vigorous effect he had on her system, although he wasn't himself and was barely kissing her back. In the small dawn light in the room she could have see the small smile on his lips.
"I'll take you home, don't worry, this too shall pass." - She was whispering to him.
"I'm not like I was before, my pet. I'm not strong any more and if I get better you'd bring your merciless nature to surface again and I won't survive that."
She raised from the bed and sat up, leaning above him, now clearly seeing his face, as the light of the day was fully entering the room. Her small palm was stroking his temples and the scruffy cheeks.
"Look at me!" – She said. – "I was a child. A brat. I had everything and then suddenly it was gone. My mother, and Tara, and everything I knew. "
"Ashley too" – He teased with tired voice, heavily blinking.
"You can't really lose something you never had."
"Did I ever have you, my pet?" – He finally opened his eyes and look straight into hers, large and shiny emerald marbles.
"Did anyone else actually have me, Captain Butler?"
"You tell me."
"What does this look like to you? I came here semi drunk, and God knows what you are ill from, but we are still able to banter and quarrel." - Small smile escaped her breath. - "I was married to a boy and an old man, remember? I was mooning over an illusion that never turned into reality, and even if it did, it would have broken me, my spirit, worse than the war. You had me and always will, Captain Butler - completely, although you and I both were not aware of it." - His eyes weren't leaving hers, and it was only then when she realized how desperately she missed that look. His tired arm reached for her gentle neck and pulled her down to his face. He inhaled her breath before he put his other hand on her face and kissed her lips with the passion that was still burning in him, the only thing that was now keeping him alive.
Belle couldn't help but over hear them.
She knew she never had Rhett, not the way she wanted him. She knew he wasn't able to look at her with the eyes he was looking at his wife, and no matter how often he was coming back to her bed, he never truly was there. Physically maybe, but his mind and heart were always wondering somewhere where the greeneyed girl was.
Belle knew about her since the moment he laid his eyes on her, for he never felt ashamed to speak to Belle about his new conquests. For full twelve years, he never stopped talking about the wild Miss O'Hara, her vivid spirit and the fact that he desperately wanted her to fall in love with him.
She knew it was killing him, the fact that he couldn't have her the way he wanted, yet it was so appealing to him. It was keeping him sane and alive for decades. Everything about Scarlett O'Hara was tempting him: her temper, her shiny, pale green eyes, her pink mouth, her ebony long curls, her tiny waist, the fact that she didn't care if she acted like a lady or not, the fact that she was strong and brave…
Belle knew that there was strong attraction between them, just as she knew that the lady was a stubborn donkey who was mooning over a man who was her complete opposite. For about twelve years she was the only witness of Rhett Butler's downfall and his urge not to show that to the woman he loved.
When he finally left her, Belle thought, hoped it was for the last time, until one night he came to her door, drunk and lost, as if he came back from hell. He dropped like a rag in front of her, she never expected anything alike to happen from a man who was so strong and healthy. His delirious ramble that he would rather die instead to just give her to that man, his incoherent cries and his self-destruction made her do the last step she thought would never take. Belle didn't have to ask for names, for she knew who he was talking about. She kept him in her house and took care of him in the past days, calling doctors to check his health, but none of them could have precisely say what was wrong with him. One of them only said that such sadness could kill even a giant man like him.
When she slowly opened the door, once their voices were silent, she saw him lying on her chest, her lips on the temple of his head, as her hands were holding him in a tight grip.
She knew instantly that Mrs. Butler never lost that battle.