Chapter 4 - Desire's First Touch

The truth was, Ashley had been thinking about Scarlett all day. Ever since seeing her on the lawn at Twelve Oaks, he re-opened a massive curiosity about her–and ever since their kiss, she ignited a need to mark her as his own. But, as luck would have it, the rest of the afternoon and evening were spent being welcomed back by nearly everyone in the county. And when he wasn't being doted over by the older women of the area, he was being followed by Charles. If he didn't pity the boy so, he would have taken him out behind the plantation for a rendezvous he would never forget. But, beating the boy to a pulp would solve nothing, and probably alienate his sister, who vowed that she was in love with the whelp, and anger his father. So, he put up with the boy's overt gestures of worship as he continually moved about the guests. It was during the ball that Ashley finally had the opportunity to be with Scarlett during one of the dances, but they no sooner took the dance floor than his father interrupted and handed Melanie Hamilton off to him while John danced with Scarlett.

Ashley had to smile in spite of himself when he saw the little spitfire try to maintain her composure and fight to keep from stomping her foot right in the middle of the dance floor, but the smile was mistaken as a welcome gesture to Melanie as she looked back up at him. It seemed that his father was bringing Melanie to his arm nearly every other dance, so by midway through the ball, Ashley gave up and retired to the gardens where he enjoyed a smoke. When he returned, he was advised by his father that he should be more attentive to the Hamiltons, considering they came all this way and would be spending the night. Ah, yes, to have the effeminate Charles Hamilton spending the night only a few doors down from his own–another reason for Ashley to leave his home until morning–he certainly didn't want any unwanted visitors through the night.

Ashley dismounted from his horse some one hundred yards from the stables and walked with him until they were inside. This gave him adequate time to see that the old swine, O'Hara, was definitely on his way inside. He could hear Mrs. O'Hara calmly scolding him for his drunken state of which he mumbled incoherently, clearly under the woman's thumb. He knew they would be occupied in the front section of the house, giving Scarlett the opportunity to make her escape.

He was just finished his cigar when he heard the rustle of cloth and he looked up to see a vision of loveliness in white running down the lane and into the stable with him. She didn't run like any girls he had known–she ran with determination and power. No–Scarlett was no delicate flower, waiting to be pampered and viewed from afar. Scarlett was eager to be picked, and he knew he didn't want any other person doing the plucking. As she ran into the building, she was glancing back over her shoulder, checking for anyone who could catch her, and in her haste, she ran directly into Ashley, bring a loud squeak from her until she realized who was holding onto her arms and laughing at her.

"Oh, Ashley! It's you! Good Lord! You about gave me a heart attack!"

"Scarlett, you have such fire in your eyes! I wonder, do you know exactly why you're here with me?"

"Of course I do!" She told him as she sashayed past him a few feet, then looked back over her shoulder at him. "You want to become much better friends with me–like you said today."

"Is that why you're dressed in your bed clothes, Scarlett? Do you meet all of your "friends" dressed only in this?" He moved to her and let his fingers touch the cloth covering her from her top of her shoulders, down to her wrists, and then on to the tops of her feet, revealing only her pink little toes.

"You know that I do not, Ashley Wilkes! How can you say such a thing? You're the one who suggested I come at this time of night! Don't you think it would be a bit suspicious if I stayed dressed in my gown well after I was supposed to be in bed?"

He smiles indulgently at her. Oh, yes, she has a temper. He could use a little spice in his milky white existence.

"Then I suppose you are most certainly dressed appropriately. Now, come with me, and we'll start on that friendship you mentioned."

He held his hand out and she placed hers into it. They walked toward the back of the stables, past the horses, and climbed the stairs to the loft above. He couldn't help but be amused as she looked at the surroundings beneath the lantern.

"There are no chairs, Ashley."

"No, Scarlett. There are no chairs. I think we can manage with this blanket and the bales of hay." He nodded toward the bale in mention and she took a seat. "Would you like something to drink? I brought some cool water, if you're thirsty."

"Maybe later," she said quietly as she watched him move until he was kneeling on the floor in front of her. "Don't you want to sit next to me, Ashley?"

"No, this is fine." He took her hands again and brought them to his lips, kissing each one before looking back at her. "Scarlett, there are going to be many men in your future, who are going to ask you to do the things I'm asking tonight. But you must refuse them. What I'm doing isn't something I want you to share with anyone else. Do you understand that?"

"You–don't want me to be friends with anyone else, Ashley?"

"I don't want you to meet any other men or boys like you are meeting me tonight. If you were to do such a thing, your reputation would be ruined. You must understand that if we were to be found together tonight–your social standing would be gone."

"But, you won't let that happen?"

"No." He smiled at her. "I won't let that happen."

"I'm not afraid, Ashley. I want to be here with you. I'm quite old enough, you know. Mariah Charbuleax married Thomas Lawrence just this spring, and she's only two months older than I am. And Amy Bennett is engaged to marry Andrew Yost, and she's several months younger." She hardly noticed in her eagerness to impress him that his hands had found their way to her waist.

"And, tell me, dear, just how ancient are you?" He asked, amazed at the slenderness he found there. Oh, it was nothing to compare with when she was bound in her stays–but she was slim and yet rounded where she needed to be. He was taking great pleasure in her figure.

"Now, you're making fun of me," she pouted, bringing a chuckle from him. "You should know that my fifteenth birthday is in two weeks. You are, after all, invited to the celebration."

"Ah, yes. I remember now. Why, you must be feeling quite the spinster at your old age."

"Melanie Hamilton is older than me–and I didn't see you turning your head away from her all evening!"

"Melanie is not the person I asked to meet me here tonight–is she?" His thumbs started lazily drawing circles on her side and abdomen. "I may have had to dance with her through the evening–but who is the belle of the ball who had her card filled before I even had a chance to come back to her? There was a line surrounding you–now, wasn't there?"

"But, I didn't want "them" to dance with me, Ashley. I wanted to dance with you."

"We'll have our chance to dance at your party. Unless, of course, your card gets filled before I arrive."

"Then, perhaps you had better arrive early," she teased as she leaned forward and smiled at him.

"You are wonderful, Scarlett. Do you know that? So wonderful, in fact, that I'm afraid I've got a lot of competition for your attention. Maybe you'll find someone else and fall desperately in love with them on your birthday–and you'll have no thought of whether I'm even there or not."

"No, Ashley. Don't say such a thing. I only want you. I've missed you so since you've been gone. Tell me that you've missed me as well."

"Yes, Scarlett. I've missed you. I want nothing more than to be with you right now. To show you just how much I've missed you." He closed the small distance between them and touched his lips gently to hers. "Kiss me, Scarlett."