Now the only thing that is between us...is the coffee table
Classic.
Rhett was leaning on the wall outside Scarlett's door when he heard her cry out in agony. Without waiting to see if she would call him, Rhett flung open the door. Scarlett was ensconced in his mother's arms, weeping as though her heart would break.
"What have you done to her," Rhett asked in a clear steady tone as he quickly crossed the room in distance devouring strides.
Doctor Cross removed his glasses, their thin gold wire rims glinting in the lamplight. "I told her the truth," he said, unperturbed by Rhett's glare and it's promise of impending violence. "The circulation in her legs has been deeply impeded. I would hazard a guess that the low temperature of the water in the Atlantic must have been almost more than she could bear. Your wife is lucky to be alive. I believe she will walk again, in time, but for right now, I've told her that she is confined to bed. She is deeply unhappy with my assessment, but I'm afraid it's the only one I can give her."
Scarlett continued to cry in Miss Eleanor's arms. It wasn't even the fact that it might be ages before she walked again, it was that Miss Eleanor smelled of her usual lemon verbena toilet water and that both comforted and upset Scarlett in the same instance. She was tired and sick and wanted her mother desperately. She wanted nothing more than to be all of sixteen with her mother and Mammy tending to her and fussing over her every sniffle.
Rhett wanted to be the one to hold her close. He wanted to dry her tears and tell her that everything would be all right. He wanted to tell her that he would care for her and she would recover. He wanted to admit to her that she was still in his blood; wanted to admit that his mind and heart were engaged in a battle in which only one could emerge the winner. It was a battle over her and his feelings toward her. He wanted to tell her that contrary to what he had told her in Atlanta perhaps he was willing to risk his heart a third time or a thirtieth time. He was coming to realize that he would never be free of her.
Doctor Cross spoke finally. "Scarlett, look at me." His tone of voice left no room for disobedience.
Scarlett lifted her head. She was shaking and her green eyes were red rimmed. Wordlessly Rhett handed her his handkerchief but she only looked at it before putting it down, unused. She then turned her attention to Doctor Cross.
He smiled encouragingly "I swear to you, this is a temporary state. By this time next year, you'll dance across those black and white tiles in Hibernian Hall at the Saint Cecilia ball." His smile became kind. "I shall be sure to offer my name for your dance card in the very beginning of the evening as I am sure it will fill up quickly."
Scarlett blushed. In spite of the feelings of discomfort that Doctor Cross inspired in her, he was a man and a handsome man at that. Her natural inclination toward belle took over. "Why Doctor Cross, how you do run on," she commented noncommittally.
"Jason." He replied offering her the use of his given name. "Now, here are your instructions, they're not recommendations. Follow them to the letter. I am going to leave you some lozenges for your sore throat; drink plenty of fluids although not milk as I find that it irritates some people with colds. A week of bed rest…"
A week," interrupted Scarlett incredulously, "I can't stay in bed for a week, I'd be stark raving mad with boredom after a day."
He pretended as though she hadn't objected, "at the end of the week I will re-examine you to further consider what course your rehabilitation should take." He paused, looking for something to tell her that might put a week of bed rest in a better light. "Besides a week of convalescence means breakfast in bed and time to catch up on your reading or embroidery."
The thought of Scarlett doing crewelwork while lying in bed caused Rhett to laugh aloud. She turned her head, giving him a look of displeasure. He smiled, this was the Scarlett he knew and…no, before his mind played tricks on him, he had to stop thinking about the things he knew and enjoyed about her. He wouldn't consider what else he felt for Scarlett until she was well again.
Rhett leaned down and chucked her lightly under the chin. "Never fear, I have the perfect way for you to pass the time. It just so happens that the books from the mines are a complete catastrophe. I'll bring them here and you can sort through them and find fault with my brother's arithmetic."
"Rhett, that isn't funny," scolded Miss Eleanor.
"It wasn't meant to be, what do you say Scarlett?"
She was considering it, Rhett could tell. "Bring the books that you need done first and an empty ledger. I'll redo them all for you. After all, anything is better than a week of repeatedly pricking my finger."
Doctor Cross had already begun to place his instruments reverently in his leather satchel. "Are you good with figures, Scarlett?" Doctor Cross inquired in a conversation tone of voice.
Rhett began to say something at Doctor Cross's use of his wife's first name but his mother shot him a look of warning, best let it alone for now it said plainly. Though it was against his better judgment, he nodded and ignored it, for now.
Scarlett answered plainly, not bothering to be embarrassed at her decidedly unladylike talent. "Yes, I've always had a head for figures. I suppose it was actually the only thing I had any sort of a talent for in school. I use to help my mother balance the books for my father's plantation." She did not add the obvious before the war. That was implied.
"My sister did the same for my father," commented Doctor Cross blandly. Rhett gave the doctor a warning glare. Virginia was not a subject he wished to hear discourse on in any way, shape, or form.
Doctor Cross snapped shut the clasp on his large black leather satchel." Mrs. Butler a pleasure to see you again. Scarlett I'll check in on you sometime this week." He once again neglected Rhett. "I'll show myself out then, good evening." He bowed politely to Miss Eleanor and Scarlett and left, closing the door behind him.
"Scarlett, would you like me to find someone else to treat you?" Rhett asked.
She shook her head while Miss Eleanor fussed with the pillows that had been propping her up. "He's certainly no Doctor Fontaine or even Doctor Meade, is he? Is he always so abrupt?"
Rhett shrugged "I have no idea as to the general state of Doctor Cross's bedside manner, he is most likely the first Cross to voluntarily tread the floor in a Butler's home in close to seventy years."
"Rosemary shouldn't have asked him to come, should she," asked Scarlett neutrally.
"No, but then sometimes my dear sister and common sense aren't the closest of companions."
"Now darling, she thought that Doctor Cross was more suited toward caring for Scarlett than the… very elderly Doctor Bastin," commented Miss Eleanor. "Now if you both will excuse me, I've a few things that require my attention before retiring for the evening."
"Is it as late as that," asked Scarlett.
Rhett removed his pocket watch "It's nearly 9:30."
Scarlett laughed "No wonder I'm exhausted. Good night Miss Eleanor."
Miss Eleanor smiled and leaned over Scarlett, gently grazing her cheek. "Good night darling, I'll see you tomorrow."
Miss Eleanor kissed Rhett as well after he too wished her a good night. Finally, they were alone once more.
"9:30 at night, I never thought I'd see the day when Scarlett O'Hara would consider that anything but the shank of the evening." His voice became heavy with concern. "How are you feeling, really?"
Scarlett shrugged "Like a burden, I hate having to be taken care of."
"That's ridiculous, you aren't a burden." He nearly added "You're my wife, who else should take care of you?" but thinking better of it, he instead seated himself in the brocade chair by her bedside.
"You should get some rest," he said.
"That's good advice, will you be taking it as well," she asked sweetly.
"I'm not ready to turn in yet."
"Well neither am I," she said, stiflingly a yawn.
"Suit yourself," he replied
"I will. Turn in or don't, it's of no consequence to me so you do whatever you like."
"I generally do," he replied, grinning rakishly.
She met his smile with a reluctant one of her own, it was hard to keep herself aloof when all she wanted was him. "Well if you insist on staying, you may as well make yourself useful."
"What do you suggest?"
"Tell me a story."
"A story," he asked incredulously, "you mean a bedtime story? I'm afraid I may be out of practice."
"I'll bear with you, come now it can be about anything, just till I fall asleep," she pleaded.
"I do have a story. It's about a beautiful titled woman and a pirate."
"A real pirate," she asked suspiciously.
Rhett lowered his voice, placing his hand over his heart "I swear, a real walk the plank sort of pirate." He raised one eyebrow at her and drew his lips into a prim line. "Now, if I may continue without interruption from the audience?"
Scarlett gestured imperiously "Please, don't stop on my account."
He tapped his chin lightly, "Now where was I? Ah yes the pirate captain. His name was Christopher and he commanded several ships during the War for Independence. Technically, of course, the American's called him a privateer because he was looting British and German ships, but make no mistake, he was not a pirate for noble reasons. He was a pirate to make a fortune."
"Like you were a blockade runner during the war?"
He laughed heartily at her jibe "Quite right, if you remember, I once told you there was a great deal of money to be made out of the building and destruction of a society. The pirate captain was the scourge of the British and on one particular raiding adventure he captured a prize beyond price belonging to the interim governor of South Carolina, a Tory named Lord Archibald Cross."
Scarlett interrupted Rhett's narrative without thinking "Archibald Cross, is he any relation to Doctor Cross."
He was pleased that she didn't call him Jason, as she'd be invited to. "Shh, don't spoil the ending of the story. The prize the captain captured was a woman, Lady Gwendolyn Hargrove who was coming from England to be married to his lordship, Lord Archibald Cross."
"Was she beautiful?"
"Was she beautiful you ask? Well, it's hard to say. From what I gather from paintings of her, when she wanted to be, she was."
"Who wouldn't want to be beautiful?"
"I'm sure I couldn't say but I can tell you what she looked like. Her skin was pale like aged ivory and her hair was as black as coal. But, Lady Gwendolyn was more than just a beauty; she was proud and unafraid to find herself the captive of one of the most infamous men to sail the Atlantic.
"In true romantic fashion, Lady Gwendolyn became so taken with the bold and fearless captain that she pledged herself to him. Being so overcome by her courage, beauty, and grace, he did likewise. They married as soon as they reached land. After the war ended, the Captain was granted amnesty for his pirate activities and he bought a grand plantation that he named Dunmore Landing after the county his family had come from in Ireland. But, it was not all smooth sailing for the happy pair; Lord Archibald Cross vowed revenge and thus a blood feud was born."
Rhett paused before deciding to end the story with the truth of the reason he disliked having Doctor Cross treat his wife. "The feud continued through the years fueled by various skirmishes and minor confrontations between the Butlers and the Cross'. Minor, that is, until the afternoon that the pirate captain's grandson shot Lord Cross's grandson during a duel."
Suddenly it was clear to her just what part the Cross' played in Rhett's past. "Doctor Cross's brother was the man you shot?" Her eyes widened as she recalled the rest of the gossip Cathleen Calvert had told her at Twelve oaks nearly a decade ago. "Then his sister was the girl you took buggy riding years ago?"
He gave her one of his twisty smiles, half smile and half smirk. "My reputation precedes me. Yes, I took Virginia Cross for a buggy ride. I then refused to marry her, which ruined her in the eyes of Charleston society. After the duel in which I shot her brother, no decent family in the south would receive me until during the war when Miss Melly decided I was really a true gentleman. Later when I was charming the old cats on Bon--, " he paused, his face sad.
"When you charmed them for Bonnie," she said softly.
"Yes, then after that I could once again circulate amidst the crème de la crème of Southern society."
"You once told me you had a pirate in the family, I thought you were teasing me."
He honestly couldn't recall the conversation. "When did I tell you about my grandfather?"
She smiled as shy as a girl with her first beau. She had been carrying Ella when he told her about his pirate grandfather. She knew now that he had been driving her because he had wanted to protect her because he loved her. "Once when you were driving me back from the mill, when I asked you what you thought our grandchildren would be like."
He grinned. "Ah yes and I then chastised you for being so forward as to suggest that one day you and I would have mutual grandchildren." Rhett failed to notice the stricken, just slapped look on Scarlett's face at the mention of the word grandchildren. He smiled fondly remembering one afternoon when they rode together through the falling autumn leaves on their way back from the mills. The sun was golden on that lazy afternoon as it streamed through the scarlet, yellow, and orange leaves. Occasionally a gust of wind would dislodge more leaves from the canopy of branches overhead causing leaves to float to the ground like jewel hued snow flakes.
He was so lost in his reflections that he failed to notice how sad she'd grown at the mention of their grandchildren. She had turned slightly on her side, facing away from him.
"Scarlett? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, I think you can go to bed, I'll be fine."
"If I didn't know you better I'd think you were telling the truth. Was it something I said?"
"Yes. No, it doesn't matter."
"Let me be the judge of that, why are you so upset?"
She did not reply.
"Please? I'd like to know if I've offended you." When she didn't respond he continued in a gentle manner that completely unlike their recent conversations. "If I did offend you, it wasn't intentional I assure you."
"I believe you. I'm just tired. Thank you for worrying so. It's really very kind of you."
'Stubborn as ever, at least some things never changed,' thought Rhett. "Good night Scarlett, sleep well."
"Good night Rhett." She closed her eyes to make it clear to him that she was going to sleep and that all topics of conversation were currently closed.
"Would you like me to stay with you till you fall asleep?" Rhett asked, a note of amusement at her obstinacy creeping into his voice.
She spent a minute considering his offer. She wanted to tell him no, that she'd be perfectly fine without him, but the thought of being alone depressed her terribly. No, if her plan to push Rhett away were going to work she'd have to do just that. "I'll be fine, thank you though."
"I'll leave the door ajar between our rooms in the event you do need me, good night Scarlett." He left the room without so much as kissing her cheek. Scarlett frowned, burrowing further down into the covers. A week of bed rest would at least give her time to plot her next campaign in her battle to win back Rhett.
F.
D 2
T 19
Y 75