Chapter 1: A Stubborn Oak
Rhett had been gone for fourteen days already. In response to her silent treatment he had taken Wade and left her alone and abandoned in her big house. Little Ella could not do much to liven up the atmosphere and the servants tried to stay out of Scarlett's way as much as they could.
The first few days her stubborn anger had kept her from feeling low. She had gone about her business acting as if nothing was wrong, and she had not allowed her heart to feel Rhett's absence in their bedroom by simply telling herself how much she loathed both him and his scandalous ways.
But then the first Sunday without him came and she did not find the usual joy from staying in bed a few extra hours. The servants always took care of the children those mornings, so that she and Rhett would have the time to talk. And there was a business matter in particular that Scarlett would have loved to discuss with her husband that day, and she started to regret that he was not there to listen to her.
But it was more than just the conversation what she enjoyed during those lazy hours. She liked the closeness she felt between them at those times, how she would lay talking, with her head on his chest, while Rhett played with her long hair, one of his arms resting over her protectively. As a rule he would instigate a tender caress or a special kiss before they finally got up and dressed. Often that led to the kind of activities that afterwards made her feel sweaty and sated. When they finally came downstairs to have a late breakfast it always filled her with satisfaction that the look on Rhett's face mirrored the joy on her own face. How refreshed she always felt after such a Sunday, ready for another busy week.
Yesterday she had endured her second Sunday without Rhett. Scarlett's heart had ached the moment she opened her eyes. Gone were her anger and bitterness. Regret was all she felt, in spite of the fact that she still held Rhett accountable for the argument they had right before he left. But if she had been just a little bit nicer to him she was certain he would have never felt the need to pack up and leave. And if she had managed to be civil to him before he left, he might have returned by now already. He could be so difficult at times. She rolled on her belly and her slender hand caressed the empty space beside her. In her mind she could see him lying there, unclad, as always when he stepped into bed with her. She could see that shrewd smile on his face announcing actions that were about to come.
Today, the Monday after, Scarlett felt the same void in her bed—and in her heart—the moment she opened her eyes. An angry sigh escaped her lips. She scrambled onto her knees and shifted to the side of the bed. A deep frown appeared on her forehead while her feet blindly searched for her bed slippers.
'Scarlett O'Hara, you are done waiting for him,' she sternly said to herself.
'If and when he decides to come home, he won't get the satisfaction of knowing that you were pining for him'. She walked across the room and swung the door open.
'Prissy!' she yelled. 'Come and help me get dressed. I have a trip to prepare'.
By two that afternoon Scarlett stood impatiently, waiting for the doors of her train compartment to open up.
'Prissy, will you get up now? The train is about to arrive at the platform and I am in a hurry. I won't stand it if you make me lose precious time', Scarlett snapped.
'Gawdlmighty, Miss Scarlett! Ah's sceered ter git up w'en dem trains is movin'. Mah done tole me an' tole me dat ah's gwine fall an' break mah arms an' legs. She sho did,' the girl shook her head with conviction.
And then, as wisely as her nasal voice allowed her to sound, 'An', Miss Scarlett, you mout break yo' neck too an' tan whut ah gwine tell Cap'n Butler w'en he come axing 'bout you?'
'Ah's sceered of Cap'n Butler w'en he mean lak dat.'
'Oh, don't be such a baby, Prissy', Scarlett said, rolling her eyes and not at all pleased to hear Prissy mention Captain Butler.
The silly girl's irritating voice had been getting on her nerves several times during the trip, and she did not want to hear any other complaint coming out of her mouth.
'Get up immediately and don't you dare leave my bag on the train. If you do, I will make sure that mean Captain Butler sends you back to Tara where you can give Will a hand at the fields.'
'I seem to recall that you were quite fond of all the ploughing', Scarlett added maliciously.
The black girl's eyes grew big and to Scarlett's satisfaction she got up immediately and managed to retrieve her mistress' bag without falling, despite the fact that the train was now gradually coming to a standstill causing it to shake so much that even Scarlett had to hold on tight to keep herself from falling down.
The train was running late. If she wanted to be in time for her appointment with Mr. Rosenbaum she would have to find a buggy the minute she left the train platform. She should have come without her stupid little servant, but she had hoped Mr. Rosenbaum would be impressed enough with her and Prissy to forgo lengthy price negotiations. Most Yankees were impressed when you brought along a darkie—she knew that from experience. They had this romantic idea about supposedly prosperous planters in the South and when you brought along a stereotype dark-skinned servant they tended to treat you like royalty.
With a small smile Scarlett realised that she was indeed as wealthy as royalty. She was as rich as any other queen, although that fortune did not stem from a thriving plantation. The only reason why Scarlett was able to spend money endlessly was her marriage to her cunning husband. And it was dirty cash that she spent; none of his money had been made in the traditional way people in the South used to collect their riches.
Scarlett did not care if it was dirty money or not that she was spending; her access to Rhett's large funds she had earned fair and square. He married her so that he could have what he had always wanted and in return he made sure that her every need was met. During their engagement period, she had sometimes worried about the things Rhett would demand from her once he earned his right to touch her body. She did not know specifically what men like Rhett expected from a woman, but she knew for certain that the five minute tumble under the sheets—that she was used to prior to this marriage—could not be the reason for Rhett's willingness to share his large fortune. Right after his proposal, he had told her that she had to get used to him and all of his bad habits. At the time she had been frightened but curious.
However, the things he asked of her were not so bad, as she quickly found out during the honeymoon. The basic technique was what she was used to. Rhett only took his time for it and demanded more of her attention than any of her other husbands had ever asked. First of all she had to strip down every night. If she forgot, he was always quick enough to bare her skin himself. Instead of turning off the petroleum lamp, Rhett would create more light in the room by lighting candles or opening the shutters when there was still daylight outside. Because that was another thing he enjoyed: making love at the oddest times of the day. And, once the scene had been set, he did not allow Scarlett to just close her eyes and let him have his wicked way with her. He was adamant that she was a willing participant in their love game. Not so much by initiating things, but more by paying attention to whatever it was that he was doing to her and letting him know what she liked and did not like. At first she had been apprehensive, shy even. But she had gotten used to his ways and these days she did not mind taking an active role in their lovemaking. However, she would never instigate it, nor would she take the lead.
Musing about her marital relations made Scarlett feel a nagging pain, somewhere deep down inside of her. It was not a very pleasant feeling so she tried to focus instead on her reason for travelling to Lovejoy in Clayton County today.
And that reason was John Fitzsimons. Mr. Fitzsimons was one of the richest Yankees she had ever met. She guessed that his fortune was as large as that of Rhett. Through one of her scallawag acquaintances she had heard that John Fitzsimons planned to build a luxurious two-story wooden house, decked out in the finest wood available: Original Georgia Stone Mountain Oak. She'd also heard, through the same grapevine, that he had approached one of the rivalling sawmills for an estimate.
So, when the gentleman happened to walk into her store to purchase something, she had grasped her chance and approached him. Uninvited, she started singing the praise of her own mills, never forgetting to show the man her cutest smile and deepest dimples. Naturally, the old man had been charmed by her, but not till the point of handing her the contract. John Fitzsimons was not a fool. He knew this particular Georgia wood was hard to come by, and he was willing to pay a good price for it, but first he wanted to make sure that the company he hired would make it possible for him to build a house with that wood and that wood alone.
That meant that Scarlett had to find a supplier for it and quicker than Mr. Jones, her competitor, would. She had talked to her husband about finding such a supplier. Rhett knew many people but he did not know of any firm in the area that could offer her what she needed. He had promised to ask his contacts, but right the next day things between Scarlett and her husband turned sour and he had not made good on his word.
With Rhett absent, she had discussed her business problem with Ashley without really expecting to receive useful advice from him. Ashley was a clever man, but Scarlett always had to stop herself from sighing when she discussed business with him. For Ashley it was all about bestowing favours on old acquaintances, not about striking the best business deal. But, to her surprise, he offered some information that she considered helpful.
He remembered a gentleman, originally from Pennsylvania, now based in Lovejoy, who sold the finest timber; mostly for making furniture. Although from the North, Mr. Rosenbaum was anything but a Carpetbagger. As a Jew he had never felt accepted by his fellow Yankees, and it pleased him that people in the South, after the initial hesitation, regarded him as every bit the gentleman that he was. Over the years he had become a well-respected citizen of Lovejoy, and he prided himself upon his good connections with his Georgian neighbours.
Ashley had expected Mr. Rosenbaum to have returned to the safety of the North during the harsh war times; but, to his surprise, he had seen that the man was still in the lumber business when he and Will visited Lovejoy to buy some supplies for the plantation. Mr. Rosenbaum did not own just any lumberyard; in the greater Clayton County he was well known for his high quality timber. Ashley told her that before the war, Twelve Oaks' library needed a new closet fitted and he remembered that, on that occasion, the Jewish man told him how his firm had provided the lumber for a wooden mansion that an eccentric Clayton County planter insisted on building. With a dreamy look in his eyes Ashley recounted all architectural details they used for that mansion, but Scarlett had stopped listening by then.
When Scarlett left the mills that day she headed for the post office and sent Mr. Rosenbaum a telegram. He replied by telling her that he might be of help and asked her to visit him at his business premises. She had postponed that trip because she wanted to wait for her husband to return, as would be expected of her. But today she decided that she had waited long enough. She was going to take a train to Lovejoy and head back tonight—hopefully with an exclusive contract in her reticule.
Gone was the hurt she had felt because of Rhett's neglect. With new vigour she made sure an overnight bag was packed—just in case—and she stepped on the train just in time. It gave her a rush to know that she was so close to striking this exclusive deal. She had no idea how much this type of timber should cost, but even if she lost money building Mr Fitzsimons' house it would do a lot for the reputation of her mill. Once more she would prove to Atlanta that she could be as savvy as any businessman. And when she secured the contract she would supervise how this timber was handled personally. It was too precious a project to leave in the hands of Ashley Wilkes.
She felt very excited about closing the deal. The only thing that would have made things even better was discussing it with Rhett. She was certain that he would support her all the way. He would even take pride in it. She closed her eyes, and for a moment she could see that look on his face. The one he always gave her when she told him of one of her conniving plans. A broad smile spread on her face right at the moment that the conductor opened the train's doors. The man's eyes started to sparkle when she greeted him with such joy on her face.
'Welcome to Lovejoy, Ma'am,' he said while tipping his hat.
'Well, it sure is a pleasure to be here,' Scarlett said breathlessly.
She ordered Prissy to hold a sun umbrella over her head while she walked towards a building that had Rosenbaum Lumber on the sign. Prissy complained that the sun was hiding behind the clouds, but Scarlett told her to hush. She stopped still, causing Prissy to almost collide with her and checked her outfit for the last time.
Trying to impress the Yankee man she had dressed with extra care this morning. She had chosen her new dress, the one with a bodice made of gold silk taffeta. The draped skirt was made of beautiful Indian silk brocade in shamrock green and gold. The well-fitted bodice, combined with a horizontally draped skirt, gave the illusion of an even smaller waist than she actually possessed. Rhett usually supervised any fitting she went to. But this particular dress she had ordered without Rhett's approval. While she was certain that Rhett would have nodded approvingly at the way the dress fitted her shape, she also knew he would have forbidden her to wear it in the daytime, since he would think its ornate colour unsuitable. But this morning, while admiring herself in the mirror, she had stuck out her tongue and had told her absent husband that he gave up his right to bully her when he left her alone in their marital home. At the Lovejoy train station she had managed to turn a few heads already and so she knew that she had made the right choice.
She entered the premises and haughtily demanded to speak to Mr. Rosenbaum. When one of his workers told her that he was busy she informed him bitingly that she had an appointment with the gentleman. The man, clearly a carpetbagger, just shrugged his shoulders and pointed her towards a private house that stood a bit in the distance.
Secretly she was impressed with both Joseph Rosenbaum's business and the large wooden villa that apparently was his home. Mr. Rosenbaum seemed to do well for himself, which gave Scarlett bigger hope that she had found her much sought-after supplier.
Mr. Rosenbaum's housekeeper let them in and asked them to wait in the hallway. Prissy made some comments about the beautiful interior of the house, but her mistress only grumbled that she should remain quiet. When Scarlett heard footsteps approach them she got up and placed her most agreeable smile on her face.
Joseph Rosenbaum was a man of average height with black hair and an intelligent face. He gazed friendly at her from behind thick glasses.
'Mrs. O'Hara, how nice to meet you finally,' he said while he bent over her hand. Scarlett had chosen to use her maiden name. She did not know how well people knew the name Butler in Clayton County but Rhett's reputation and fortune might prove to be a hindrance when it came to getting a fair price for the Stone Mountain oak.
'The pleasure is all mine,' Scarlett said, making sure that the smile never left her face. She exchanged some pleasantries with the gentleman and complemented him on his beautiful house.
'Built with Scarlet Oak, rather than the Georgian Oak your client is after'. Suddenly the man's face turned serious.
'I am afraid that you are not the only one that is after Mr. Fitzsimons' contract, Mrs. O'Hara. This morning a gentleman showed up unannounced. A certain Mr. Jones, he is also from Atlanta. Do you happen to know him?'
Scarlett pressed her lips together. Jones! He had beaten her to it then. If only she had not left it so late to visit Mr. Rosenbaum.
'Yes, I know Mr. Jones. He is a respected colleague of mine. However, I hope you have not signed anything yet. I travelled all the way from Atlanta; surely you can spare a lady a minute and listen to my business proposition?' she said sweetly.
'I already told Mr. Jones that there are other interested parties. Maybe you would like to come to the parlour and say hello to him?'
'Mr. Jones is here?' Scarlett said, feeling baffled.
'I invited him to stay for a light mid-afternoon meal. As I am sure you know, he is a very charming gentleman. He brought me some fine Cuban cigars and I guess we forgot the time while we were enjoying them after the meal.' Joseph Rosenbaum said in good humour.
'A charming gentleman?' Scarlett thought. The few times she met Mr. Jones he had been anything but charming. The man had the posture of a pig and he had the swinish manners to complement that. He always greeted her clumsily while his mouth was chewing tobacco, and once he had the audacity to spit it out right next to her on the floor.
Well, maybe he left his tobacco at home today and tried to clinch the business deal with his cigars but Scarlett was certain that he could in no way match the offer she planned to make Mr. Rosenbaum. Only because it would seem rude not to, she decided to greet Mr. Jones. She told Prissy to wait for her in the hallway.
Using every centimetre towards Mr. Rosenbaum's parlour to let her charm work on her prospective supplier, Scarlett did not realise they had entered the room already. Mr. Jones was sitting in an armchair that was backing the entrance.
While Scarlett was chitchatting with Mr. Rosenbaum, her eye fell on Mr. Jones' shoe sticking out from behind the chair. It was made out of the finest crocodile leather and Scarlett knew that they must have cost him a fortune. Mr. Jones was apparently going overboard in trying to impress the lumber supplier. Big circles of smoke were coming from behind the chair's backseat.
Mr. Rosenbaum coughed and said, 'Mr. Jones, I believe you know Mrs. O'Hara? She is one of your colleagues from Atlanta?'
Scarlett was trying to come up with a plausible explanation for not using her husband's name while she watched the gentleman slowly rise from the chair. When she looked him in the face she knew that explanations would not be necessary.
Her mouth fell open. Barely noticeable for the unaware observer she saw him wink at her in a conspiring way. He put his cigar down and walked lightly across the room to greet her.
He bowed over her hand with all the elegance of a dance master.
'Mrs. O'Hara, it is always a pleasure to see you. I hope all is well with your husband and children?'
Scarlett did not utter a word. She was stupefied. If Scarlett had been familiar with the expression, she would have called this a déjà vu. Years before this man had risen from a sofa in almost the same manner, interrupting a moment that had been of the utmost importance to her, and she was practically as startled now as she had been that day.
Mr. Rosenbaum did not notice her lack of response because at that exact time one of his employees walked into the room and whispered something in his ear.
'Madam, Sir, please excuse me for a moment. There is some business I need to attend to urgently. I trust you have some catching up to do?'
'I will ask Rosa to bring you some tea, Mrs. O'Hara. Feel free to help yourself to more of that brandy, Mr. Jones', Rosenbaum said before he left the room.
When Mr. Rosenbaum's footsteps died away, Scarlett tore her hand out of the man's grip.
'You do turn up in the most unexpected places, Scarlett', he said.
'I could say the same thing about you, Rhett'. Scarlett managed to utter, meanwhile wishing that there was a piece of china at hand. This time she would not aim for the mantelpiece.
A/N: Written for Captain Scarlett who gave me sentence: 'You do turn up in the most unexpected places, Scarlett'.
No particular POV/time period but I know what she is hoping for. Let's see how that pans out...
