Disclaimer: I own nothing. Gone With The Wind and its characters belong to their respective owners. I make no money out of this, I'm just having fun.
A/N: I'm kind of late to Gone With The Wind and I'm sure many people had their take on the continuation of the story. I love the movie and the book equally, but this fic takes place in the latter's universe. This is my first GWTW fic, and it might take a chapter or two for it to really pick up but hope you'll stick with me.
Summary: Chapter 1: Dealing with loss can break even the strongest ones. After a desperate but fiery confrontation with Belle Watling, Scarlett's fall is inevitable.
Simple As That
The cemetery was full of people. Scarlett wasn't really surprised, yet the sight of such a mass reminded her, oddly, of the war, when people would gather to praise the Cause and cry together over the loss of all the fools who died for it in the battle. Leave it to Melanie to unite everyone once again, even in her death. Life without her was almost surreal to Scarlett. Although she certainly had spent a lot of time away from her, it was only these dasy that she realized what stability it had provided to know she would be there whenever she turned to her. She would be in Atlanta, accepting her with open arms whatever she intended to do, and that included secretly trying to steal her husband. That cross now felt heavier than ever on her shoulders but she would bear it, just like everything else before. It would have been so easy and so liberating to confess it all before Melanie passed. But Scarlett refused to be a coward, not in this matter. There was no bravery and nobility in confessing her past sins to a dying woman. Melanie's condemnation would have added nearly nothing to the considerable guilt and regret Scarlett felt already and her forgiveness would have meant very little without her around. Not to mention making her final moments bitter and disappointing with realization that she had mistrusted her dearest sister-in-law all along.
It was much easier to concentrate on the people gathered rather than on what was happening. The grief she felt was all too familiar and although she realized she would get through this too, it didn't make it easier to bear. Ashley, her once beloved Ashley could barely stand on his feet as people kept taking their turns to say good bye. He looked frail, tired and old. Way old. He looked like a walking ghost ever since Melanie died and Scarlett worried he might not even make it to the funeral. But he did. The funeral itself was arranged by Scarlett without considerable objection – much to her surprise. Apparently everyone agreed that Melanie had to be laid to rest with as much respect and honor as possible which needed perfect organization. Even Scarlett felt she deserved it, she knew Melanie was faithful to her religion and she wanted to do everything within her power to be true to her late sister's spirit.
Immediately after her passing, Scarlett had expected chaos to take over, overshadowing the most wide-spread grief Atlanta witnessed since the war. She was convinced that now that Melanie wasn't there to defend her, her suggestion to take over preparations for the funeral would be met with heavy objections. But it wasn't. In fact they were eager to do everything she planned for the services and took her orders ( for the most part ) quite easily. It wasn't until this very moment that she realized why it was. Apparently her exceptional leading skills and no-nonsense attitude when things had to be done were welcome now. The women were comfortable having nothing else to do than cry their hearts out and compete who loved Melanie more, while the men, out of solidarity, wished to do nothing to shed light on Ashley's inability to act in this time of grief. That damn honor of theirs, they were willing to overlook her, a woman, completely taking over rather than put Ashley in a bad light while any other time she would have been frowned upon. Everyone who had judged her and condemned her for her past actions suddenly welcomed all of her work, enjoying the opportunity to look as grief-stricken and honorable as possible without risking the chance of failing Melanie's last honor. The little hypocrites, Scarlett thought bitterly, she was sure everything would be back to normal in a day or so.
Her eyes shifted and settled on Mrs. Merriwether. It was Mrs. Meade's turn to say a few words, the chance most women fought hard for. Scarlett had set up an order for them and because of the amount of people who wanted to speak, she had told them they could sum it all up in five short thoughts or they wouldn't speak at all. Her conditions were scandalous but most agreed, some even came to see the sense in it. Mrs. Merriwether was naturally among the few who refused to accept it, but when Scarlett seemed as firm in her position as always, reluctantly, but she agreed to it, too. Her eyes narrowed now as she eyed Scarlett, and the latter was aware that the old hag had been scrutinizing her since the moment she set eyes on her that day. She inspected her as if she had been waiting for the young woman to fail or to catch the slightest glimpse of evidence that there indeed had been something between her and Ashley. With no such proof all day, Mrs. Merriwether was growing more and more restless.
It was Beau's arms wrapping around her waist that distracted Scarlett. The little boy had been holding on to his father's hand but it was obvious Ashley could do very little to comfort his son. His lifeless stare, looking as out of the world as he had always appeared to Scarlett, wasn't reassuring to a child who needed a strong presence in this time of sadness. But neither was Aunt Pittypat's continuous sobs or his Aunt India's inexperienced and awkward attempts to handle a frightened child. Beau had never been afraid of Scarlett and sometimes he was more open and candid towards her than her own children – or anyone else, for that matter. Naturally he took to her now, too, seeking comfort from the strongest and to him dearest presence after his own mother. While she wasn't the warmest mother in the world, she shared his grief. She had lost a daughter, he now lost a mother. Scarlett put an arm around Beau and rubbed his back gently, conveying her unspoken determination that she would keep her promise; she would take care of him. Her own children were home, this was a sight she wished to spare them. They had seen enough grief since Bonnie's death, and as much as she wished they had been a little tougher, natural protectiveness kept her from allowing them to attend. Melanie would understand, she was sure of that.
Just that simple gesture towards Beau had the gossiping women, Mrs. Merriwether, Mrs. Elsing and Mrs. Meade share a look. Scarlett caught it but gave no indication that she had noticed or that she was bothered. In fact, she wasn't. It was her now estranged husband who had spoken the very truth when he had told her how much she could do without reputation. That he had taken issue with that very fact after all sounded a little hypocritical to her but that wasn't the train of thought she wanted to focus on at the moment. Thinking of Rhett, and his absence, felt like a pull on her heart, too, and hurt her carefully crafted resolve. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't lose it in front of everyone. Unbeknownst to her, however, her eyes betrayed her. While nobody knew all the details and contributing factors, there was hardly anyone who failed to notice the unmistakable tragedy lurking in her features. Over the years she had been called cold, steely and fearless, and many thought there was simply nothing that could penetrate her walls. Today her eyes were nowhere near as bright as they were on a daily basis and not even her beauty could draw attention from that gloomy cloud that surrounded her entire being. For the first time in a very long while, Scarlett appeared as part of the community as ever, sharing the same grief and feeling of loss as the people gathered. Her favorite child's death, Rhett's departure, Mammy's return to Tara and Melanie's passing felt like life's forces united to bring down the one person that not even the war could break. But she wouldn't let it. Not until she took her last breath.
It was Aunt Pitty's house where most of the guests gathered after the funeral. Scarlett was relieved that most people who turned up for the service stayed away, apparently deeming it more appropriate to extend their condolences to the family in the upcoming days instead of swarming them all at once. The house was still full of people as they came and went all day long. Surprisingly a few even thanked Scarlett for the preparations but she couldn't have cared less. She didn't do it for herself and certainly didn't do it for them. It was for Melanie. Scarlett was still bitter about the lack of helping hand when Bonnie had died. In this time of grief her bitterness only grew and had it not been for Melanie, she would have told them all to go to the devil. Mrs. Merriwhether was, of course, among those who came by and even deemed it important to stay the whole day. The excuse was consoling Aunt Pittypat, the truth, Scarlett figured, was to keep an eye on her. It wasn't lost on anyone how Beau clung to her all day either. Scarlett couldn't help the irritation she felt over it, it was something she greatly disliked about her own children, too. She never said one bad word to the boy though, she let him stay with her instead. If it made him feel better, then be it. As much hatred as she had felt for the boy and for his mother at first, she had to admit she had grown to love them both in her very own way. Beau was, she realized, the one still living part of Melanie and if there was anyone whom she felt a real connection to in her grief, it was him. Beau was uninhibited in his relationship to her, he was maybe the only person in the world who did not fear or think ill of her. The only one who had no hidden agenda when dealing with her and genuinely and truly liked her. He was so much like his mother.
For Melanie Scarlett made great effort, did everything by the book and acted as conventional as possible. She resisted the urge to leave the reception of condolence callers to India, Aunt Pittypat or Ashley, knowing they wouldn't be strong enough to deal with so many people. She bit her tongue whenever the overwhelming desire to call somebody on their hypocritical melodrama, as it was a habit of most female members of the Old Guard in Atlanta, felt strong. She smiled and was polite when she felt like it the least, determined to keep the peace. All for Melanie. India surprised her the most with her co-operation. There was not one meaningful look fired in Scarlett's direction all day long. It was as if India had lost her footing and the only person she could hold on to, the one who still stood straight, was Scarlett. The all too familiar feeling of unwanted burden haunted Scarlett all along. It wasn't Tara, her sisters, her ill father and confused servants that badly needed her sanity now but the sophisticated, once so proud and denying lot that clung to her desperately. And that included Ashley. If it weren't for Melanie… if only this hadn't been Melanie, then she could have told them all to hold on to something else, anything but her. If there was one person who Scarlett never even bothered to appear kind to, then it was Mrs. Merriwether. The gazes they exchanged were cool and icy, their communication was reduced to the utmost necessities.
Real conflict only arose when all attention finally turned to Melanie's young son. With the guests gone and only the immediate family (and the necessary, unshakable close friends) remained, it was obvious Ashley was hard to pull out from his secluded little corner. He had just returned from putting a very tired Beau to bed, a task he insisted on doing himself. It was the first time that Scarlett caught glimpse of the little life that was left in him. The hard part was just about to come, however. Apparently everyone was eager to take care of little Beau and that matter was so urgent they absolutely refused to allow Ashley some time to get over his devastating grief. They had ideas that, of course, didn't necessarily include them caring for him personally, but ideas they felt were appropriate and acceptable within society. Everyone knew Ashley had to keep his family afloat, he couldn't just abandon the lumber mill for it would have brought even more misery on them. That meant he was away for the most of the day and Beau, who had gotten used to his mother's constant presence, needed someone to look after him. Aunt Pittypat, as supportive as she was, wasn't fit enough to care for the boy anymore. India was most people's candidate and the most logical choice, but India was more frightened than ever. She was used to co-existence, having someone to listen to even if she had her very own strong ideas and ideals that usually came from society. Melanie had been a quiet leader in the household and taking that role, especially with no experience of caring for a child, left India hopelessly out of her depth. There remained the obvious that some tried to ignore, namely that Scarlett was to care for Beau. Melanie may have come across far too naïve to Scarlett on many occasions, but apparently she had made sure enough people knew what her wishes about her son were. Scarlett was to be responsible when Ashley was busy with the business. She had told Ashley himself, Aunt Pittypat, India and Dr. Meade, making each of them swear to the Lord they would honor her last wish. That they did, which led to the unavoidable, nasty scene. The argument was so wild Scarlett had never in her life had a worst time controlling her temper. To her credit, she remained cool on the outside, ironically reminding herself of Rhett's usual pretense of detachment. That further infuriated Mrs. Merriwether, who was among the strong opponents of little Beau being subjected to Scarlett's 'evil and disgraceful influence'.
There was a point when, Scarlett felt, Mrs. Merriwether was about to blurt out an insult about Bonnie's death. The fiery look she threw the older woman was so sharp even the old gossip didn't dare finish her thought. Awkward silence fell then, everybody knew they have reached a breaking point and it was only when faced with the intense fire in Scarlett's eyes that they realized they did not wish to suffer the blows of her newly flaring temper on the day of Miss Melly's funeral. It was India who broke the standstill, speaking words Scarlett never would have expected of her.
"I believe Scarlett is the right choice. I have made a promise to Melanie and I'll honor it till the day I die."
Eyes went wide, looks were exchanged, some agreed, some didn't. Scarlett's eyes narrowed in scrutiny as she eyed India. There had been a change in her demeanor ever since Melanie died… and ever since Scarlett had uttered a rare and uncharacteristic apology. They weren't exactly friendly but India seemed to have accepted her as main authority without any visible struggle to contain herself like before. Scarlett didn't know if it was because of something she did, India's conscience over the whole accusation case or Melanie's influence her on her death bed. Truthfully, Scarlett wasn't too eager to add Beau to her list of responsibilities but she had promised. Not only would she burn even longer in hell if she had broken a promise made to a dying woman but her own conscience would protest, too.
What somewhat puzzled and even amused Scarlett was how firm her supporters were in their idea. Aunt Pittypat, for the first time in her life, stood her ground and not even Mrs Merriwether could move Mrs. Meade from her firm stand in favor of Scarlett. She knew better than to take it as a vote of confidence, the two, despite being such great friends, took each and every opportunity to oppose one another. Mrs. Meade used Melanie's wishes as an excuse which, as it was written on her face, did not please Mrs. Merriwether. Yet the matter was settled once and for all by Ashley himself. Looking resigned and broken, Ashley finally emerged from his silent reverie to have the final word.
"My wife's wishes were clear and it was a decision we both agreed on. As Beau is my son, I hope you all, dear friends, will respect my choice to see to Beau as best as Melanie and I both deemed the best. Scarlett and I are childhood friends and Melanie was terribly fond of her. With all the strength and wisdom of a loving mother, Melanie felt Beau would be in great hands under Scarlett's care. I am humbled and most touched that Scarlett is willing to help my family out in her own time of grief. I will not have anyone question Melanie's judgment in the matter of her own son's upbringing, nor will I tolerate any ill-speak about Scarlett in my house. Melanie is gone and I expect her memory to be respected." His speech was delivered in a calm and slow pace as if the previous heated and loud argument had been completely lost on him. Scarlett realized this demeanor was what she had mistaken for strength and extreme confidence when she was merely 16. This time it was clear that what she had considered admirable authority, was nothing but a resigned man speaking without having the chance or courage to fight life. While she was sure he meant his words, he appeared nothing but weak to Scarlett. So unlike Rhett, he would have reacted so differently. But where was Rhett now? Gone. Escaped from her, because she had destroyed him, too.
With the matter settled, life soon returned to normal – as much as it was possible. Melanie's absence was painful, there wasn't anyone who didn't feel the gap she left behind. Of course nobody failed to notice Rhett's absence either. Scarlett had smartly hinted at financial troubles to all those she knew would spread the gossip, so soon entire Atlanta was under the impression that Rhett had left because there was serious trouble with his business. There remained suspicion, of course, and Scarlett knew she was being watched, especially when in Ashley's company. But that was rare. She realized he was broken and grieving and that it wasn't the right time to turn away from him, so it took her considerable effort to be around him. Not only did she not find him the least bit appealing anymore, but their friendship that went back to their childhood meant nothing in light of Scarlett's regret and fury. She was thoroughly displeased with herself for having been so blind all along and furious with Ashley for his misleading act. Although she realized the man never actively pursued her, all of his actions seemed different in retrospect. With the knowledge that she was in love with him, he had been subjected to the temptation to take advantage of her all along. But despite his chivalrous struggles, he had known Scarlett enough to realize she wouldn't give up hope unless he told her straight out that all he would want from her is her body. That he never did and she couldn't see it. Whether it was intentional or not, the fact remained that Ashley had led her on for years and that was hurting her pride. Aside from her own mistakes, she felt his actions greatly contributed to the split with Rhett, too. Oh how could she have been so blind?
Just like always, Scarlett functioned best when under pressure. Dealing with Melanie's death putting up with a most intense public scrutiny and taking care of little Beau, too, while trying to find a way back to Rhett kept her preoccupied. Survival mode kicked in and her tenacity emerged full throttle in this time of need. However, there were many things on her mind and finances were, as always, one of them. She was rich, richer than she had been before, but it was all up to a husband who had left. She had Tara, half of Aunt Pittypat's house and the store she was preserving for Wade. But everything else was Rhett's and with him gone, she didn't know how lasting that would be. His promise to keep her financially safe was made when he still loved her and Scarlett was half expecting divorce papers to arrive any day. She had fully intended to return to Tara the day after Rhett left and had began making preparations to leave and spend a little time there but her immediate return home was unexpectedly delayed.
Aside from the funeral, a daily routine needed to be worked out for Beau and Aunt Pittypat childishly grabbed hold of her arm and literally begged her to stay, just a little while, claiming she couldn't bear her absence too, now that Melanie was gone. Reluctantly, she stayed. Beau spent most of the day in her house, playing with Wade and Ella while he spent the afternoons and the night at home. That worked perfectly for Scarlett, however it soon became apparent Beau was different than her own children. While he was used to his father working, his mother's absence was hard on him and he required Scarlett's presence and attention more than Scarlett felt comfortable with. He sometimes completely abandoned Wade and Ella and followed her around. Whether it was Melanie's or Bonnie's memory, she wasn't sure, but something kept her from snapping at the boy. Although there were times when he was chattering away freely as he always did with her, most of the time he didn't ask for much, he merely liked being in her presence, feeding off her strength and energy, which, as long as he remained silent, was bearable. She had to conclude if she were to return home, she needed to take Beau along. And, as it became more and more apparent, returning home was a life or death matter. She needed Tara like air. It was a peculiar feeling, each passing day in Atlanta weakened her and she was certain she needed to go home. To think, to regain her strength, to recapture who she was.
She missed Rhett terribly. It was hard to imagine there had been a time, alright, several times, when she wished he would have disappeared forever. Now he seemed to have done so and it was more painful than she cared to admit it. Although he had promised to return frequently to keep up appearances, a month had passed and there was absolutely no word from and of him. She had been through this before when he had taken Bonnie along but that was different. This seemed final and it was hard for her to think of any kind of a plan to get him back when the most important part of her plan was missing; Rhett himself. Her inability to think of anything was another proof she needed to regain her energy and for that she needed to go home. Ashley agreed to let her take Beau along. He felt a little change in scene would aid his son and since Tara wasn't too far away, it was thought to be the best solution. He would even visit as much as he could until they returned.
Plans made and arrangements done, it was just a couple of days before her scheduled leave for Tara that Rhett returned unexpectedly. Scarlett was completely caught off guard and was quite unprepared. The worst part was, Rhett hardly took notice of her. She felt this was an opportunity she couldn't waste and intended to do her very best to get him to stay but he gave her no chance. He had made his presence known but deliberately cut each of her attempts off to address what he apparently was not interested in anymore: her love. Scarlett felt helpless, it was a feeling she despised with every fiber of her being, especially when it came to Rhett. Especially now when so much depended on it.
"You look dreary, my dear." Rhett commented nonchalantly while going through papers in his office. "I hear you're leaving for Tara. You might want to extend your stay, I won't be returning for a good while." He then stopped to throw her a quick glance. "Should play well into your story about financial problems." The detached coldness hurt more than his usual mockery. "So how's the honorable Ashley Wilkes doing?"
"Miserable." Scarlett replied without care, her focus was anything but Ashley. "Rhett, couldn't you stay a while?" She didn't care about the despair in her voice. "The children missed you and-"
"The children." Rhett cut her off. "I hear Mrs. Wilkes was adamant about giving her son to you. So how does it feel, my dear, finally taking Ashley's burden as you wanted all along?" Now this stung and she felt her entire body go up in flames from rage. He had accused her of holding others' love over their heads like a whip and he was doing exactly just that to her now. He wasn't necessarily mean, if anything, he was asking her about facts, asking her about the man she didn't love the slightest anymore. Reminding her how she had wasted her love while something so important was in front of her face all along. Yet having an argument with him at the moment, when she wanted him back, didn't seem like a wise idea, nor did she feel strong enough for one. Swallowing her anger was most difficult but she tried.
Rhett chuckled. "You're out of your game, Scarlett. If you want to throw the nearest thing at me, do so. There's no use denying yourself, I know you. Maybe you do need that time away at Tara."
Shortly after informing her that he wouldn't be returning to Charleston and refused to tell her where he was heading, he left to Belle's. Making her feel all the more miserable in her helplessness, he didn't return until the early morning. She was well aware he had spent the night with the creature and had she not been awake waiting for him, she would have missed his immediate departure. She watched him from the top of the stairs, feeling more lost than ever, as he walked out the door once more. He knew she was there but he never addressed her, never even turned around and she couldn't speak out of her deep sense of loss either. There was the kind of finality in the air that Scarlett hated. It was like death, unchangeable, heavy and sad. Her mind refused to believe it really was over but she felt paralyzed. There was no Melanie, no Mammy, no Ellen or anyone whom she could turn to. The need to get out of the house was stronger than ever. After what seemed like hours and as some life crept back into her, she was determined to prove that there was no way that Scarlett O'Hara would go down without a fight. There was one stone left unturned and as much as she despised the idea and hoped it wouldn't come to that, she now knew what she needed to. It was the worst possible case she had considered but, truthfully, that it was. She felt her spark was missing, fighting tooth and nail like she had done before did not come easy this time. That was evident when she had watched Rhett go without a word. Things had been out in the open between them, he knew how she felt and she remembered his words. Accepting them was she was unable to do. She desperately hoped she would be strong enough to pull through this. Her early confidence that she could get Rhett back considerably waned and each passing day that delayed her from returning home felt like a weakening blow.
----
At the back of her mind she knew this might not be a wise idea but she shrugged it off. She had done crazier things like this before, what did this matter now? It was the night before her scheduled departure that Scarlett got out of the carriage and gave instructions she would be back shortly. Being out alone so late in the evening was scandalous but scandalous had become her middle name so, what did this matter now. For the first time her mourning dress became useful, for she walked down the dimly lit street and away from the carriage like a shadow. Silent, careful and unnoticed. Those who spotted her, and called to her, were hardly likely to remember the next day for the closer she got to her destination, the less sober people could be found. No ladies ventured to this area and, as much as the men repulsed her, she was glad for their confused state of mind. Her heart was pounding rapidly in her chest, however, the sight of so many drunken fools reminded her of Rhett and the night that he had shown a previously hidden side of him. While Rhett's conduct that night eventually led to a shocking mixture of repulsive and pleasurable experience, she was none too happy to consider the aspect of anyone else doing that to her. So she kept her head down, avoiding the occasional drunk faces passing by before she finally reached her destination.
Belle Watling nearly choked on her drink when she was told she had a visitor – and who that visitor was. While her initial reaction was to refuse accepting her call, this was an occurrence she never figured would ever happen. Her curiosity won over and she sent word she would be with her shortly. She deliberately made her guest wait, Belle couldn't be sure what she wanted but had a faint idea. Rhett had just left, it was one hell of a coincidence to get a visit so soon afterwards. Leaving instructions not to be disturbed, she headed to the very room where she had her visitor waiting. It was a cruel choice, Belle knew, she had chosen the very room she had last spent time with Rhett. She swiftly entered through the open door with the kind of dignity Atlanta's people never considered her worthy of. The only occupant of the room was busy staring outside the window, obviously spying on any possible witnesses when she would be leaving. Belle resisted the urge to chuckle and instead took Scarlett's appearance in from head to toe. She was dressed in conventional mourning wear, the blackness of her dress, along with her dark hair, was an intriguing contrast to her pale skin. Not a single hair was astray on her head, she looked every bit the part of society that she was required to be when mourning. Belle hated to admit it, not merely out of female vanity but because she despised Scarlett as a person, that her opponent was pretty. Having given birth to three children, she still looked slim and had she decided to claim she was childless, anybody who didn't know the truth would believe her.
She knew that there were two things that preceded Scarlett: that she was unconventional and that she was breathtakingly beautiful. Dangerously so, thus it wasn't always called a virtue anymore, instead she was famous for the beauty that hid a devilish coldness. Of course Belle knew how, no matter what condemnable deeds Scarlett did, her appearance continued to be envied for itself. If anything, her unconventional and ruthless ways encouraged women to act upon their jealousy without having to feel bad about it, while men, although concealing it, eyed her as a forbidden fruit. An almost sickening thought crossed her mind; Scarlett would bring in a lot of money to her business if she were to join her girls. For a moment she pondered telling it to her just to see what kind of a reaction she would get.
"Mizz Butler." She closed the door to get her attention, making Scarlett jump a little, and Belle's amusement was evident in the small smile that tugged on the corner of her lips. Scarlett looked like a child caught in the middle of doing something very bad, and very bad was how almost everyone regarded Belle's house. There was an unmistakable unease in Scarlett's stance as she regarded the older woman.
Aside from morbid curiosity as to what the 'respectable' Mrs. Butler wanted here, and so late for that matter, she had been waiting for a chance to go head to head with the little wench. That they never liked each other was one thing, but, as far as Belle was concerned, any woman who would let Rhett's devotion go to waste was rotten to the core. What Miss Melanie had seen in Scarlett she never knew, but a thought of the late Mrs. Wilkes reminded Belle of how willing she had always been to give the benefit of the doubt. She sure treated me right, she thought. The poor deceased soul was one of the very few people who looked at her, Belle, as an equal when every other woman saw nothing but a cheap, disgrace of a woman. Miss Melanie had seen the good in her but to think Scarlett deserved the same courtesy was hard to believe.
"Mrs Watling." Scarlett regarded her coolly, standing rigid in her place as if fearing that anything she touched would taint her. The room was clean and spoke of good taste, but Belle knew to Scarlett it could have looked like a palace, she still would have seen nothing but filth.
"Can I get you anythin'? A little Brandy?" Belle watched with great satisfaction as Scarlett's pale skin became flustered. She was probably wondering just how much she knew about her, just how much Rhett had let on, since no respectable woman offered Brandy to another. No one except the disgraceful ones and those who knew secrets about the other.
"No. Thank you." Scarlett's slanting green eyes took in the woman in return with the same once over she had secretly been given just moments earlier. Belle caught Scarlett's small notion, the pursing of her lips, as if she was containing the words undoubtedly ready to roll from her tongue. Pretending she didn't notice, she casually took a seat but offered none to Scarlett.
"Imagine my surprise when I been told the respectable Mizz Butler was visitin' herself." Belle began. "That begs the question, what brings her to 'Lanta's most condemnable house this time of night? Came lookin' for a job now that your husband finally discarded you?"
Scarlett's eyes narrowed in silent rage, the insult hit her spot on and Belle now saw the truth in Rhett's frequent comparison. Her eyes went emerald and with her attire she really was like a cat in the dark. There was a murderous gleam in her eyes that Belle hadn't faced before and, quite frankly, it almost unsettled her. But she let nothing on. Scarlett visibly struggled with a response and she must have taken great effort for her answer was nothing like the killer gaze she fired at her.
"My husband is the reason why I'm here indeed." Belle now had no doubt about what Scarlett wanted and it made her feel triumphant. Scarlett would, otherwise, never let such an insult slip by without firing back with all her weapons. Belle, on the other hand, had no intention of letting this opportunity of torturing her slip away.
"I'm all ears."
Scarlett raised her chin high. "I'm quite certain you know where he went."
"I sure do. Do you?"
There was hesitation in Scarett's eyes and her inner struggle was once again written on her face. It was a battle of pride and despair, Belle recognized it.
"We… didn't have much chance to talk. I need to see him urgently." No matter how much dignity she tried putting into the delivery of her words, that was a lie, they both knew. "If you could…" She didn't finish, instead gave Belle a pointed look. But the latter would have none of it.
"If I could wha'?"
Scarlett nearly gritted her teeth. "If you could tell me where he is…"
Sadistic gleam lit up Belle's eyes as she regarded the younger woman. "And now why would I do that? If he ain't told you, why should I?"
"That's between me and Rhett." Scarlett answered curtly and, to her annoyance, Belle laughed.
"Well if it ain't Scarlett O'Hara lowering herself to us disgraceful lot, crawlin' on her knees after a man?"
"If you had any understanding of the difficulties of matrimony, you would know. As it is though…" Belle recognized Scarlett's careful attempts to control herself. The venom still slipped through, yet her need to find Rhett was apparently stronger. So she cut back at the last minute and, to Belle's bewilderment, she almost looked resigned. Belle knew she had her cornered now, here was the chance she had been waiting for all along. If Scarlett was suffering, she deserved it and it was a sight she had been wishing to see with her own eyes. But Scarlett, as if realizing her mistake upon letting on some of her anger, spoke again. "Just tell me where he is." There was a long pause. "Please." Her eyes were cast downward, refusing to meet the Belle's gaze.
"Difficulties of matrimony." Belle rose from her chair, eyeing her opponent with disgust and triumph. "And you would know that with your vast experience, wouldn' you?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, scrutinizing Scarlett's reaction to her words. "You should've spared yourself those difficulties in the first place, Mizz Butler. No lovin' and deservin' woman banishes her husband from her bedroom." But there was no reaction. Scarlett kept her eyes down, willingly taking the insults and Belle kept them coming indeed, continuing as if she was lashing her with a whip. "You're cold, selfish and heartless. All the nasty things you said to him when his daughter died, you ain't deservin' of nobody's good will. 'Specially not of mine. Well look at this room closely, dear Mizz Butler for this is the closest you'll get to him. At least in here he got the warmth and love you were so willing to deny him."
Scarlett's face contorted in disgust as the meaning of the words sunk in. It was the clearest sign Belle needed to make sure her words had hit home, yet a peculiar feeling of looming familiarity overshadowed her satisfaction over the situation. "S'not my problem you couldn't keep your man. And if he left you, 'twas no more'n you deserve."
"That's quite the judgment coming from you, Mrs. Watling, considering you haven't the means to keep a man longer than a night." Gone was the resignation and willingness to suffer from Scarlett's tone and posture. Belle was sure she had witnessed an unmistakable moment of weakness and she had taken good advantage of it, but it had evidently slipped through her fingers. The flash of her opponent's now narrow green eyes boring into hers, the sharp words packaged carefully in the icy aura came out of nowhere. Scarlett didn't cut back this time and that ignited the fire in Belle too, forcing the amused, sardonic smile off her face, and making her straighten to her full height.
"I'm no worse'n you are. Only difference 'tween you and me is that I don't marry them."
"Yet I'm not observed as a piece of flesh, who fulfills just about anyone's filthy dreams. You're no better than a pair of shoes people can buy just about anywhere. Both used and discarded when worn out. My cheapest, simplest frock comes higher than you."
Belle realized the mistake she had made in underestimating her and finally knew what that peculiar familiarity earlier had been for. Scarlett radiated the same kind of danger Rhett always had. There were things she never quite understood about the man and here she was facing the same kind of mystery. It wasn't that the younger woman was physically threatening, if anything Belle was taller and bigger than her. No, it was different. She had heard more about Scarlett from Rhett than she would have cared to hear and had a hard time believing all his tales of her unbreakable spirit. Sure Mrs. Butler took the hits moments ago and Belle was a force to recon with, too, but she had foolishly ignored Rhett's warnings not to run ahead if she ever came face to face with Scarlett. She's in her element when she's cornered, he had said bitterly, I know, I've been there. Belle had a feeling that had she not pushed Scarlett so far, she would have won this argument. However, she had kicked her to the curb and Scarlett let her, somewhat willingly, for reasons unbeknownst to Belle, up until now. For whatever reason Scarlett O'Hara decided she had taken enough and wouldn't be defeated just for the sake of it. She was stirred like a sleeping lion, which had been rudely awakened.
"Maybe so, but no man could ever accuse me of lyin' about what they are getting' from me. I ain't calculating behind anyone's back and disguise myself with false mannerism. It's with clear intentions that I make my money and I make it myself."
"So do I, without sinking to the lowest pit of dirty affairs. I don't sell my body in the process."
"Don't you? What was it they married you for then, your beautiful soul? Did you not conquer men with them carefully posed dimples and low cut dresses?" Belle spat. "I s'pose you was madly in love with and committed to all three of your husbands? So how's it you're all alone now? Rhett sure ain't dead."
Hatred shone in Scarlett's eyes, she evidently did not bother to disguise her contempt and real feelings anymore. This was outright war and the row was getting nastier by the minute. "Why, Mrs. Watling, you would know about being alone, wouldn't you? After all, what kind of a man would stand by a woman with such easily and frequently wasted virtue?"
"The kind you had and pushed away." Belle's remark stopped Scarlett for a second before her eyes narrowed even further.
"You're just jealous of something you'll never have, especially at your age. Sadly, it's through your own fault, for no matter how many men I push away, you still have none to keep. And it surely isn't the gentlemanly lot that permanently resides in your establishment but the female sex." That hit a sore spot but Belle honestly couldn't decide if it was just a shot in the dark or Scarlett really was onto her.
To Belle's unease, Mrs. Butler demonstrated the same kind of unpredictability as Rhett always did. Suffering Scarlett's insults was bitter realization, too, that although the woman had a good wit about her, never had Belle been subjected to such fast, poignant and deliberately cruel remarks by her opponent. Granted they hadn't spent much time talking to each other, Scarlett was giving an entirely different feel than during their previous encounters. There was something wild and reckless about her that was so typical of Rhett. Of course Belle realized that the unusually sharp tongue was a product of his careful grooming, for everything, including the way she unleashed her carefully calculated remarks, reminded her of Rhett, with the only exception of the humor missing from her tone. She was crude, blunt and straight to the point without any attempt to soften the blow whereas Rhett's often self-depicting humor threw people off balance. If Scarlett threw anybody off balance than it was because of the unexpected forwardness with which she aimed to insult.
In Belle's eyes Rhett couldn't do much wrong but she wasn't a stupid fool. Although she had never told him, she had seen his spoiling Bonnie and she was well aware of his influence on Scarlett, too. In retrospect, as disloyal as a thought as it was to him, it really was no surprise that Scarlett became so fatally hazardous to his feelings. She had to wonder just how wise his decision to spoil his wife had been, for the once famous county belle was now an infamously unstoppable force of nature with undisguised and unapologetic tenacity.
"What has you so sure I want to keep any man?" Belle bit back and she could see the retort threw Scarlett off guard. But she recovered…
"Never before have I seen a woman come so vigorously to the defense of a man that they didn't hold in high esteem. For someone who prefers short them engagements with men, you are mighty defensive about my husband's whereabouts."
Belle was admittedly caught off guard. Rhett had told her so many times how blind Scarlett was, how she failed to be analytical of people and how little comprehension she had of human behavior, unless it was spelled out for her. Belle was feeling unease now, for Scarlett to figure this out about her she sure had to be obvious. Unless, of course, Rhett had spoken to his wife about Belle. That was something she doubted, however, for all his affection and love for Scarlett aside, Rhett always seemed aware of his wife's nature and treated her accordingly. But that was true the other way around, too, for never before had there been a more pressing time like the present, when Belle wished Rhett had revealed something about Scarlett that she could have used against her. But alas, for all his praise about her unbreakable soul, he safeguarded her deepest secrets nevertheless.
"What a calculatin' lil' wench you are, Mizz O'Hara." Belle chuckled to disguise the sore spot her opponent had hit and she regarded Scarlett's feisty and determined expression.
Looking into Atlanta's most recognizable face, Belle couldn't help the jealousy. What she truly envied was that while many years ago Scarlett had a uniquely mature appearance for her evident youth, it had somehow made a full circle and her blossoming maturity was now exquisitely compensated by stubbornly girlish features. But what she hated the most was that no matter what Rhett had said, she had a suspicion he still wasn't entirely over his wife. Why, she didn't know. The only good quality that woman had was her beauty, and beauty could be bought easily – starting within the walls of her own house. With her age came experience and wisdom, however, and Belle understood and had come to accept one thing: she would never entirely understand Rhett Butler. He was a hard man to figure, even if she knew more about him than anyone else, including present company, there were depths of his heart and soul she had never and would never see. She grasped and agreed with his conclusion, that like had to mate like and in a bitterly unfair twist by life, the one woman who ever held the chance of understanding him and making him happy was foolishly uncaring Scarlett O'Hara.
"That's Mrs. Butler to you." Scarlett bit back and Belle didn't disguise her contempt with a chuckle this time, instead her face grew serious.
"Answer to your question I won't give. Rhett ain't told you where he went, so I ain't revealin' it for sure either. But just to ensure you don't leave empty handed, I'll tell you somethin' useful that your famed wit might comprehend. As much as I hate to say it, you two are alike. It takes someone of the same sort to understand Rhett Butler and for some reason, it was you. If you was blind and lost him, 'twas through your own fault and you should be damn sorry about it. Me and mah girls may not hold your social status, but any of my whores, as your lot calls them, would be more deservin' of him than you are." Then her eyes scanned Scarlett in a most vulgar way as if she was assessing a breeding mare, trying to decide whether it was worthy of purchase or not. "And now I'll grant you the dignity, or what's left of it, to leave my house on your own accord before I kick you out with great hype. Unless, of course, you wish to stay overnight. I won't deny that you're lookin' pretty enough and luckily for you, you got that one right: no man comes in here for a woman's heart. With those standards you'd do splendidly here. You'd make quite the money too…"
A delicately arched eyebrow went up upon hearing that statement before open disgust overtook Scarlett's face. She then moved to leave, apparently refusing to spend any more time in the building. "Indeed. You'll remain dirt regardless…" She addressed Belle one last time with a final, hard glare.
"But at least I'm honest about it, honey…"
Whether Scarlett refused to dignify her with a retort or was just at a loss for words, Belle didn't know, for guest merely turned and sauntered out of the room, not even asking for an escort out. Stopping by the window, Belle watched her emerge through the back door shortly after that and couldn't help the chuckle when seeing her obvious attempts of a disguise. She eyed her departing figure with a mixture of utter contempt and morbid fascination. Belle had grown accustomed to the life of an outcast and condemned woman with all its disgrace, but, in truth, with all its freedom, too. Despite Rhett's attempts to break Scarlett away from conventions, she was still very much part of the society that, for some baffling and cruel reason, refused to completely cast her out. Belle thought that worse than her own status – or its lack of. Scarlett was stuck between two worlds, for her actions had been condemned by the hypocrites of the Old Guard -- of which she was well aware through all the 'gentlemen' that secretly visited her establishment--, the same Old Guard which wouldn't just simply deny her altogether either. Time and time again they were scandalized by Scarlett's actions as if it was the last they would take of her, yet they would roar again each time Mrs. Butler did something that did not please them, for they relentlessly and stubbornly expected her to act her rank. For a while Belle thought the old fools just wouldn't learn, constantly talking about poor Ellen Robbilard and her heritage, but then clarity came, for it became obvious that it turned into a sickeningly cruel punishment. In Belle's mind, they might as well have chained Scarlett to a pole and lashed her continuously each time she attempted to get away, and that would have been the literal counterpart of their actions. But then again, Scarlett had done plenty to be in that position and Belle felt no pity for her, just admiration of the sheer power that nothing and nobody could break her. The evidence was nothing less than the severe wounds Belle had suffered through the course of their battle.
---
That Scarlett was closer to breaking than ever before Belle couldn't have known. She was shaking with the anger and shame that she had tried to conceal as she hurriedly made her way back to the waiting carriage. This trip was a complete failure. A dreadful failure, no less. It was her very final evidence that her spirit was breaking, for this confrontation with the creature Belle left her utterly drained. She couldn't take it any more, she needed Tara. She needed to get away. She had deliberately scheduled this visit to the night before her departure, she had known that if the meeting went wrong, just like it did, she would be out of town for a good while and wouldn't have to face reminders. And that decision felt very wise at the moment. She just simply couldn't disguise herself during their fight. She wondered where all the teachings of her Mother and Mammy had disappeared, for pretending and acting a part did not come easy any more. She had always had a problem with containing her own wild spirit but lately… lately it was simply impossible. Her admiration for her Mother's self-control grew and reached unattainable heights in her mind. That Scarlett could always fool men much easier than women was one thing, but she could play the part of a 'good woman' of society when she cared and chose to. She had gone to the creature with the intention of finding out where Rhett was but no pretending, no lying down to take the beatings helped. The worst part was that it wasn't all merely pretense, before a very last surge of anger awakened her battered spirit, there really had been a moment of resignation and utter hurt.
Normally those accusing words would have fallen off her, because she had become a master of blocking out opinions she wasn't interested in. But everything Belle Watling had thrown at her hit a sore spot and they hit her good. Accusations of her tarnished reputation and her disgraceful conducts were harder to take than usual but she would have borne them. However, there was the awful truth, and Scarlett's cruelest critic had always been herself, which now admitted the truth values in Belle's words, namely that she had lost Rhett and it was her very own doing. And what also hurt, more than anybody would ever think – as evidence had it, was the complete disregard of her own grief over Bonnie's death.
"You're cold, selfish and heartless. All the nasty things you said to him when his daughter died, you ain't deservin' of nobody's good will. "
Rhett wasn't the only one who lost a child, two even, but that seemed to be the cruel consensus. Her strength that most people found both fascinating and condemnable was taken for granted, going as far as refusing to believe the loss of her child had touched her at all. Scarlett didn't understand why society wanted to see her break so bad. Her own mother had lost three children and never once had she looked anything but composed and strong in the face of tragedies. Scarlett wasn't the best mother, she was perfectly aware, how could she be when she had never even wanted to be one. But she had fed, clothed, protected and fought for the well being of her children with her every fiber in her being. Bonnie was the first child she actually was truly fond of, and her loss did get to her. But life went on, as it always did. Scarlett had learned that one had two choices: either going down or going on. She chose carrying on. But in her careful attempts to block out everything that could hold her back she had developed such iron will and barrier around her that seemed unnatural to most.
But not anymore. She barked her orders to be taken home before she hid in the safe confinement of her carriage, fighting the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She was tired. And, as much as she hated to admit it, the creature was right. She was all alone. Tara would help – or so she desperately hoped.
To Be Continued…