Thanks for being patient. I took a little something from the book "Rhett Butler's People" and threw it in here. I hope you enjoy this one. They finally reunite and share quite a few things with each other.
6 The Clean Sweep
"I think I'm going to be sick," she muttered, bringing the back of her hand over her nose.
"I was expecting strong emotions to abound during our first moments in reuniting….."
Scarlett immediately pushed him away in the middle of his thought, hurrying across the long room, while he tracked her movement, "but never did I expect that our time apart would cause this type of reaction."
Rhett stood from the bed once he heard Scarlett heave into the porcelain bowl set on top of the bureau.
"I must say, I've never had this affect on any woman before," He imparted, amused.
She spun around, wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and asked, "Why do you smell like you came from a burning building? A barn, more like it. You look ghastly!"
She walked back toward the bed, still holding her hand over her face, to block both her unsightly complexion and his noxious smell. Reaching for her wrapper, she noticed that her husband was analyzing the black smudge on the fingers he used to wipe his face. As if he didn't realize it was all over him until then. His eyes narrowed, the length of his mouth increased, and then he lifted his eyebrow. He swiftly unbuttoned his shirt while telling her of his misadventure,
"Why it must've been during my sudden encounter with a, er, a chimney sweep.
"A chimney, what?" she asked, wiping the wetness from her eyes.
"A chimney sweep. A person who cleans chimneys with a long broom." He explained as he peeled the shirt sleeve off his arm abruptly, and used his clothing to rub the rest of the dirt off his face. After discarding it on a nearby chair he proceeded to pull off his long and soiled riding boots.
"…Must've had a bag full of ashes with him. At any rate, did you know, if blockade running didn't work out for me, I would've stayed in London and tried to make my fortune as a chimney sweep."
"Cleaning chimneys, Rhett?"
"I'd hire hundreds of sweeps. You know how I don't like to get my own hands dirty. Well, usually."
"The exception is tonight of all nights. And how do you explain the mud on your boots and clothing?"
Scarlett's head was still spinning, and she was trying hard to get her bearings while absorbing Rhett's mysterious appearance in the middle of the night. She was so relieved he was here, with her. But when he didn't answer, she wondered if her seasick mind was again tormenting her. The conversation that ensued between them abruptly ended in deafening silence. As if he had vanished while she rubbed the pressure building between her eyebrows. Before she cried out his name, she had the thrill of being startled by him when he peeked his head out from the bathroom door—a comforting sight aside from her many spiraling thoughts. He asked,
"You know how many chimneys there are in London?"
Rhett knew that talk of new riches was like an elixir to Scarlett, and a diversion he used to avoid exposing the truth about his muddled attire. She was moved enough to ask,
"Thousands, I suppose. And more if you have to clean them often. Is labor cheaper here?"
There was no answer from him again, but she heard the sounds of running water, and assumed he started a much needed bath for himself. It was his turn to be startled. He caused the water to splash out, jerking his body towards the sound of her voice. It was a soft deep voice, echoing as it bounced against the large marble-laden bathroom walls.
"Allow me." She muttered, bending low to take the wash cloth from his hand.
Rhett sat there frozen, almost appearing frightened, watching her submerged hand soak the wash cloth deep into the tub water. After inhaling ever so slowly, his shoulders stiffened. Only until when her hand re-emerged, did he exhale, feeling relieved that she went straight to work on his back. A series of frightening thoughts flashed in front of him, that aside from never being completely caught off guard, let alone looking filthy in front of Scarlett, he was now truly and completely exposed to her—his emotion written all over his face, and his body language—a display of queer excitement.
He was a solid mass of silence as she worked a lather of soap on him. Closing his eyes helped him to relax a little more, and to recollect. This was not the first time he was bathed by a woman, thinking back as she ran her fingers through his hair. He wondered why he felt strangely about it. They always remained proper, as many spouses were accustomed to in those days, regarding their hygiene regimen as a chore done apart in separate rooms and times. There was nothing at all improper about this act, but Rhett found it more uncharacteristic than anything else, especially coming from Scarlett. Yet there she was down on her knees in such a subservient posture, finding the moment to be the most, touching between them, and undeniably, arousing.
She sensed the tenseness building in her legs having resorted to squatting, and even felt it on Rhett's firm body. Without delay she voiced,
"Maybe I should get more comfortable if I am to be thorough," and went and did what she thought.
He felt a cold wind upon his back as she stepped away—unable to dare himself, to turn around, lest he disappoint his imagination. How unlikely that would be. This new attitude she adopted was guaranteeing him no shortages on surprises. The breeze he felt came from the thin layers of night-apparel cascading off Scarlett's cream silken body, making its fluttery descent to the cold marble floor. He kept his wide eyes away from her, to hide this momentary struggle of trepidation, never looking back as she slipped into the tub and slowly sank into the water behind him. Although the tub had enough room for a party of four, Scarlett slid her cold, dry flesh to get as close as she could to the warmth of Rhett's immense slick back. She felt a vibration come from deep within him and out, having formed into the sound of his signature mocking laughter.
"Mrs. Butler, I must tell you that I'm sincerely enjoying your vacation to London, already. Do tell me, how did this playful side of you happen?"
"Playful? Fiddle dee dee! Rhett, don't you see it's requiring a lot of work to remove the filthiness from you? And I'm not exactly talking about bathing."
He continued to laugh heartily as Scarlett gently pulled him to lean back until they both were comfortable, her back against the tub, arms through his. She wiped between the grooves of his defined abdomen. Then up she went, towards his chest after dousing on him more soap water. Rhett remained still, but now limber and relaxed under her diligent, mild, cleansing touch. She moved over his shoulders—dipping, dousing, wringing, rubbing—was her pattern, proceeding down the length of his arms, then up his thick neck, then to the thick brush in the pit of his arms. The bend of her slick long legs protruded above the water, flanking him from both sides, making a suitable rest for his arms. His hands were absently gliding over the side of her outer thighs, as he fell deeper into the relaxing warmth.
"Is the Kavannaugh Manor to your liking? Rhett asked.
"If it wasn't so huge. I almost didn't make it to my room, after an exhausting ride to the house. That horrid woman, Lady Kavannaugh, saw to making me a spectacle for my squeamishness at the docks in front of her nice guests. How could she possibly be your kin?" She asked thrashing her hand about in the water, projecting her annoyance.
"That horrid woman, is my Aunt. You were seasick, Scarlett?"
"Aunt, my foot! She's about your age Rhett!"
"A few years older, actually." Scarlett gasped. The woman looked magnificently younger than she really was. She made a quick mental note to find out the secret of her ageless beauty once time permitted during her stay there.
"She's the best kept Butler secret!" Rhett explained. Scarlett stopped her wiping, which prompted him to continue on before she got the idea he slipped—that there were other secrets he might be forced to mention. And forbid anything should distract Scarlett from her attentive mood!
"My grandfather's secret, which he took with him to the grave, at least the grave in New Orleans. But in Sao Paulo, Brazil, he left the fortune he made during his so-called pirate-speculating days there, to her—his daughter. Yet she lived as poor as a pauper for fear of ever being discovered by the legitimate Butler family, of course, who were painted in a notorious, blood-thirsty, money-hungry light by my grandfather, himself."
"How did you find out about her?" Scarlett asked, intrigued.
"During one of my voyages to South America—to Brazil, when I had to search farther in for supplies, and better quality goods. Her family kept a painting of my grandfather up on their wall, and the villagers recognized I was the spitting image of him. Somehow, she knew I wasn't being received by my family so, needless to say, they made a big ceremony for my introduction into her world. We corresponded regularly, but after the war, she moved, when she married the prominent Sea Lord Kavannaugh. Hence, the title she bears of Lady. Maria Luisa was named after my grandfather, Louis Valentine. You know Scarlett, you can learn quite a few things from this woman. You two have so many things in common."
"What could I possibly have in common with such a rude raccoon like her?" Scarlett hissed.
"Her way with men has earned her three husbands, whom all have passed on, fortunately for her…."
"That is a mean thing to say, Rhett Butler! You cad!" Scarlett cut him off, but he pressed her to listen, holding himself steady while being shoved in the back by her.
"Calm down, Scarlett! I meant that with the utmost honor and compliment to your beauty and financial prosperity."
Showing how well that compliment was paid, she planted her feet on his lower back, and stretched out her legs to propel Rhett forward, away from her. He spun himself around, his face was devoid of apology, but held that same stern look he gave her the morning he stood at her bedside, "She's a well-respected lady, whose fought hard her whole life—had fallen short, picked herself up again, to earn every honor and title given to her, well deserving of respect and admiration. That is what I meant."
She proceeded to take the wash cloth and began cleaning herself, replying after lathering her left shoulder then up her raised arm, "You've got your filth on me Rhett!
"She holds a heavy interest on me, and your daughter. Listen to me, Scarlett…."
"Now I see." She said, switching the wash cloth to her other hand. An argument was brewing and she was debating whether to be agreeable or obstinate. Her tempestuous nature had surfaced, which gave her the chance to demonstrate her plan. She needed to harness her emotions no matter what Rhett threw at her. On the ship, she realized that this trait had caused many arguments, unwittingly always giving Rhett the upper hand.
"Your grandfather's admonitions weren't for naught, about Butlers. Don't worry Rhett darling, I won't get in the way of family interest. Besides, I'm a Butler, too, and you always told me how much we're alike. So! Do tell me how Bonnie is involved in this?"
Maybe then, I'll know just how nice I should be to that raccoon, she thought.
Rhett caught a glimpse of that famous simper, a clear indication Scarlett was up to something, motives hidden underneath fiery, ambitious eyes,
"We'll talk about that later. It will be a while before it is of important matter again. The matter, at hand, is what I want to know. What are you trying to do, Scarlett?"
"At this moment, trying to freshen up. Have you forgotten how you overwhelmed me and the entire room with your presence?" she answered, wondering if her strategy worked.
"No, Scarlett. I sense desperation in you, and usually it's because you're afraid of something. Considering the past, you've done some wild things out of desperation. So come out and tell me what you're afraid of?"
She kept wiping herself with the soapy cloth, appearing unphased by his assertion. She straightened her leg raising it above the soapy water, taking the wash cloth to the tip of her toes, slid it down past her knees, thighs, then back into the water before setting the cloth down, all the while pulling from her memory, the words to answer him. This was the moment she prepared for, over and over, while on the ship. Her triumph lingered at the threshold of the words she was about to utter. She was sure of it.
"I am desperate. To be loved, Rhett. I waited like a thief for stolen moments, misplacing my naïve loyalty elsewhere. I've missed so many moments, and I just wish I could make up for lost time, with you. I want to share your bed with you, talk like we used to, take a ride in the woods, travel around the world with you, play with the children more, have more….children."
"You're playing a game Scarlett. A dangerous one."
It was too good to be true. Her words had the same effect as brandy—burning at first, warmth flowing throughout the body, then a release of all the tension and inhibition after the third glass. Rhett added,
"You're saying way too much, wanting too much…." He was trying to a put a finger on her motives, but he didn't need to. She was going to spare him his doubts.
"If I don't, I'll lose such a rare and wonderful thing—what most decent people won't ever allow themselves to feel, or wouldn't know how to begin to feel. It's what you and I never had to fear. You always gave me the freedom to unleash my emotions, and my passions, leaving it completely unbridled that memorable night. That is what I fear more than anything else—to lose—from the only man who truly possessed it all, and gave it all to me— heart, mind and soul. You consumed me, Rhett! With your bruising touches, you sparked something wild in me, and for that, I want you!"
Rhett never looked as serious as he did. There was no hint of darkness in his stern eyes. Hope had been answered by the dramatic change, his spoiled, immature wife was undergoing. Scarlett was speaking with the passion he had always known to be a huge part of her. He reached out for her underneath the murky water, found her leg, and took grasp of it.
Scarlett continued, "You say I want too much. I just want you. I would do anything to show you—anything for you!"
Those last few words, she remembered saying to a love of long ago, and meant it. The conviction in her eyes told Rhett she definitely meant it—for him. She laid her heart out on the table in her own game, and felt it break those old chains of love. A smile crept up her face after realizing she had broken the main barrier between them, and now there was nothing to stop them. She had won the ability to love as freely and as passionately as she wanted to, and Rhett was there to ensure she did, since he was also the chief benefactor.
Rhett reeled in the leg he was holding, closing the space between them easily by bringing her to his lap. He weaved his fingers into her wet hair and pulled her down toward his lips, giving her an unhurried, deep probing kiss. The waves of the long ocean voyage had carried and brought her to him, and in the rippling bath waters Scarlett would travel inward to find the rhythm in this journey of rapture, matching Rhett's entrenched pulses racing to climb and break the surface. Together, they met each other at the apex. They were greeted with a cresting sensation, having carried the rising tide that rolled over and crashed towards the welcoming shores. Both bodies lay expended, entangled, satisfied.
Before Rhett decided to snatch some sleep, he kissed his beautiful, exhausted wife's forehead, and recalled the lone journey he braved to return to her that evening. There was no such encounter with a chimney sweep. He had missed the last passenger train coming out of Wales, and since it would take more than six hours to reach London, he rode his hunting horse, through wet fields, to catch up to a cargo train. Once he jumped on board, he was spotted and threatened to be thrown out on the next stop. He made mention of his experience in shoveling coal and presented an offer to take turns. The train foreman agreed, and took Rhett closer to his destination. Once he knew of her arrival, he couldn't shake the thought for one second, of her passionate pleas, hanging earnestly on to its promise. He had to have her, at least once before returning to close the business deal in Wales—the next morning.
I'm going for two more chapters—the next will be "Lady Maria Luisa-centric" of course secondary to Scarlett-centric. Then there is one mysterious character who we'll bring back who'll be responsible for sparking jealousy from one of the two. Please review this chapter and let me know what you liked and didn't. Your reviews inspire me—love to hear from ya'll.