Okay, had another one all set 3,000 words and just couldn't get the end to work out...so I banged out this one instead. I would rank it as my 3rd favorite thus far, after Remorse and In the Family way. Thanks to all reviewers, you make the journey worth it. Ah and yes, aeryn7...the point about Ego, well taken...if I can figure out how to go in and substitute for...vanity or something along those lines...BTW, anonymous reviews have now been enabled on both my stories...so, no log in...just click away and make my day :)
Jealousy
Scarlett O'Hara Butler stormed into their suite and slammed the door with enough force to take it off the hinges. Rhett Butler stood in the hallway and furrowed his brow, now here were three things, he thought, that when combined were stronger than the forces of nature; Scarlett, anger, and alcohol. Really, each quite manageable enough on its own, but when combined the results were quite dramatic.
"Now Scarlett," he started. As he opened the door and stepped through, "I know you're angry, but can you at least attempt to let some of the other guests at this hotel sleep through our fight?"
She turned around seething, "I don't care, if they all rise and come in here with us Rhett Butler, maybe they should come in and bear witness to my husband the vilest, most ill-mannered cad that ever walked the face of this earth."
"Scarlett, you're drunk…and you're shouting."
"You have not heard shouting yet!" she shouted, "But if you wish to, I can certainly do my best!"
He walked across the room in rapid strides and took her gently by the wrist, "That's enough darling, you've made your point, now keep it down."
"Don't you tell me what to do Rhett Butler, and don't you dare lay your hands upon me." She yanked her hand out from his grasp and stormed across the room, to sit by her dressing table.
"Good Lord woman, if I had ever suspected that you would become so taken by these….tantrums…when you became inebriated I would have thought better to control your alcohol intake !" He responded with a smirk, and the slow lazy Charlstonian drawl he used only to infuriate her.
"It isn't the alcohol that has caused this tantrum…. I mean my anger; it's your vile insistence on placing your hands all over that harlot's body! Oh you vile pig! To parade a woman like that in front of me and to paw her as if…."
Good Lord, he smiled was that what all this trouble was about? Had he managed to drive this little vixen mad with jealousy? No doubt it was his dance with Didi; he had felt Scarlett shooting daggers from clear across the ballroom, but deciding that he was not the type of man to be governed by his wife, especially not quite so publicly, he had proceeded, and without very much caution.
"Is that what this is?" he laughed loudly, "A little jealous fit?"
Scarlett's reflection glared at him from the mirror. "This has little to do with jealousy, and everything to do with common decency, which you severely lack!" she seethed as she proceeded to pull her earrings off and slam them onto her dressing table in anger.
"Careful with those stones" he smirked, "They aren't just pretty baubles made of glass you know, they're quite…"
He hadn't the chance to finish as both stones came flying across the air dangerously close to his head.
"The hell with you and your stones!" she spat.
He chuckled and reached into his breast pocket for his cigar case, "I don't think you would have been quite so eager to throw those, had you known their cost my pet," he said as he clipped the end and placed it in his mouth, "And don't think I'll be replacing them either, if they've been damaged."
"Oh, I don't want anything from you, not ever, not ever again!" she said as she continued pulling off her jewels and slamming them onto the dressing table.
He lit his cigar and laughed, "Quite easy to say I suppose, while you are enjoying the honeymoon suite at the finest hotel on the bayou, perhaps, you'd think differently if I were to strip you of that fine silk ball gown and send you back to a diet of turnips and hominy out at Tara."
She spun around on the small bench and fixed her eyes on his, "If you think that I will stand for your insults Rhett Butler, than you are severely mistaken," she said under her breath, "if it pleases you, I will gladly return to my home without all of this….finery, because I will certainly not spend another moment with a scoundrel who would hang such threats above my head."
He had gone too far and he knew it, the minute those words had left his lips he had regretted them. But damn that woman if she didn't drive him to be cruel. Throwing insults and emeralds around as if it were nothing. He was Rhett Butler, damn it, a man of the world, not some silly country beau who would shudder at the first sign of a temper. He would stand his ground. But those words, they had been particularly hateful, and with her not being the type to stand down, this had all the makings of a severely turbulent storm.
He nodded his head once and slipped a hand into his pocket. "Very well, and when will you be departing then ?"
She looked at him and drew a deep breath. "One would hope, that you would extend me the courtesy of allowing me to spend the remainder of the evening in this suit, as clearly I will not be able to travel until the morrow." She answered curtly, with her green eyes drawn to two serpentine slits.
Fine, if she would play along so would he. "Very well," he answered sharply, "You may have the bed and I will take the divan, and when you awaken…on the morrow, I will have made all of your travel arrangements with the porter. Will it be Atlanta then or Jonesboro?"
That scoundrel she thought in a rage so strong it threatened to bring tears to her eyes. Did he really intend to send her on her way? She didn't doubt him for a moment, and though the humiliation of being sent home from her own honeymoon would be almost too great to bear, it would certainly be more bearable than the humiliation of having Rhett Butler dangle his wealth before her, as if it were a carrot and she a mule!
"I think I will prefer Atlanta, thank you, as I am not fond of turnips and hominy." She replied shortly.
He bowed at the waist, "very well then."
"Very well." She answered, "Now will you be so kind as to ring down and have someone come and help undress me?"
"Scarlett," he laughed, pulling out his pocket watch and stopping to glance at it, "It is nearly two in the morning, surely you don't think there is anyone awaiting your arrival so they may undress you."
She bit her lip, "Then wake someone."
"Don't be ridiculous," he huffed, approaching the table, "I can certainly help you."
"I don't want your hands on me." She spat out. "I despise you !"
"Stop it Scarlett," he said as he approached her reaching out towards the back of her dress, "These childish tantrums don't suit you any longer, can't you at least make an attempt to grow up and …er… restrain yourself!"
"Much as you should have done this evening." She replied through clenched teeth.
"What, pray tell, have I done that has enraged you so," he asked as his nimble fingers began to make quick work of the many tiny hooks that ran down the back of her gown. Good Lord, this woman was driving him to madness, and they hadn't even been wed two weeks !
"You know damn well what you've done…Captain Butler." She said angrily.
"Ah, so its Captain Butler now? Very well then Mrs. Butler, since I don't have the faintest idea what has caused you such distress on this lovely evening of our honeymoon, perhaps you would like to enlighten me." He said sarcastically as his fingers reached the last hook.
"Don't play the innocent with me, why you had your hands all over that…that…woman as you danced." She huffed, as she stood and allowed herself to step out of the gown. "My corset, please" she mumbled.
"Didi?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, "you must be referring to her; a lovely Creole woman was it? Scarlett she's an old friend."
"An old friend my foot," she looked in the mirror and fixed her eyes on his. She took a breath and drew in some courage from the alcohol that still ran through her veins. "I would wager, to say that she's quite a bit more than that."
His fingers pulled at the laces of her corset. "What do you mean by that, darling?" he asked casually.
Her hands went up to her breast holding the garment in place as he loosened it. She had caught him. She knew it immediately, his answer was too casual, too studied, his fingers lacked their usual nimble grace. The bastard, had he really dared to dance with a woman he had bedded in front of her?
"You know exactly what I mean" she snapped as she rose and stepped into the dressing room, so that she could be afforded some privacy while she slipped into her nightclothes.
Rhett Butler stomped out his cigar and shrugged out of his jacket throwing it carelessly over a chair. He had indeed been with Didi, many years ago. They had shared a long and sensuous affair. He had been a much younger man, and she a passionate young Creole. They had been together; perhaps six months before fate had driven them apart.
Yes, he had seen her from time to time when in New Orleans. She travelled, on occasion, in the same circles as a few of his business associates. And even though she had made it quite clear on those encounters that she would be more than happy to 're-acquaint' herself with him, he had always politely declined. Some paths, he thought best, should only be visited once.
And tonight, there had seemed no exception to his usual, impeccable behavior. He had been surprised to see her; of course, it was after all his honeymoon, yet, he was certain his face had not conveyed any such sentiment. He had kissed her hand, indeed as he had kissed many others. And he had only agreed to a dance because she had asked him.
Yet there had been a moment, a very brief moment, and he had doubted that Scarlett had seen it, perhaps he had been wrong.
"Oh please Rhett am I really to believe that little slip of a thing has managed to slide a noose around your neck?" she asked with a light coquettish lilt in her voice.
"That little slip of thing, as you so call her has done no such thing," he answered with a smile, "It was I, who managed to slide a ring around her finger."
She laughed heartily, and threw her head back for a moment. He wondered if perhaps, accepting this dance had been, after all, a mistake. "Do you truly believe," she asked raising her wide light brown eyes flirtatiously, and pulling her hand out of his in order to run it down his lapel, "That you will be able to resist temptation?"
He quickly retrieved her hand and squeezed it firmly. "I do believe," he answered with a cold smile, "that this dance will be over quite unexpectedly if you find you are unable to resist yours."
She laughed loudly, drawing Scarlett's glare from across the room.
He unknotted his cravat, and tossed it on the chair. What was he to do; surely she did not think he had been celibate prior to their union.
"Scarlett," he called out, as he sat on the edge of the chair and began pulling off his boots. "If there is something you'd like to say, then I suggest you say it." He would not spend the night like this, avoiding some invented slight.
It was silent for a moment, and he thought that perhaps her modesty in such manners, had bought him a reprieve. That is until he found her standing in the doorway of the dressing room, her green eyes fixed on his.
"I believe that you have …." She closed her eyes, and paused, letting her anger and the alcohol, give her the courage she needed to take forth this most vile accusation. "I believe that you have bedded that woman. There…are you pleased with yourself now?"
His brow rose momentarily, as he let his boot drop to the floor. "Scarlett," he started, "surely you do not think that I was celibate for twenty some odd years prior to having made your acquaintance."
She gasped and her hand went to her throat. It felt constricted, suddenly tight. For the first time in her life she understood all those silly girls who suffered fainting spells. This news, which she had suspected, but suddenly seemed so raw coming from his lips combined with all the alcohol she had consumed suddenly went to her head. She closed her yes. "So you have been with her?" she whispered.
Good Lord was she going to faint, he thought…or worse yet, become violently ill. Oh, what a fool he'd been, Scarlett was as cunning as a fox, of course she would have watched his every dance with every woman keenly. If he ever saw Didi again he would be sorely tempted to wrap his hands about her throat.
He stood and brought a glass of water to her at the dressing table. "Scarlett, it was a very long time ago."
"Not long enough apparently," she seethed, tears coming to her eye, "as neither of you could manage to keep your hands off one another. Oh you….vile, vile man."
"You know that isn't so," he started, "It was just a dance, I did nothing out of the ordinary Scarlett. Now, I know you are upset, but surely, considering that I am almost twenty years your senior, can you really not allow that perhaps at some point in my life I actually may have had... relations… with a woman that was not bought ?"
"I cannot allow that you would bring one of those women on your honeymoon!" she sobbed, slamming her hair brush down with such force she snapped the handle off.
"I did not bring her!" he shouted back, "surely you don't believe that."
"I don't know what to believe!" she shook her head violently; "you had her in your arms!"
"We were dancing!" he answered vehemently, "It's not as if I had her in a lustful embrace!"
She opened her tear stained eyes and glared at him across the mirror, "And when she stroked your chest, was that merely part of the dance?"
Ah, so she had seen. "She was mistaken in doing so, and I informed her of her misdoing. Scarlett, what more could I have done?"
He was exasperated. Caught in between two sentiments, by all means Scarlett was correct in feeling as she did. If she had dared to have a man, a former lover no less, stroking her arm during the course of a dance, why he would have snapped his neck. And, though he had never struck a woman, brazen behavior such as that, might have indeed made him consider it.
On the other hand, He was the man dammit, and he would not be tied to her apron strings. He had done nothing. Granted perhaps he should not have accepted the dance, but damn her he had behaved appropriately; He had thwarted the advance and made it quite clear that it had not been appreciated.
"You could have stopped dancing with her!" she shouted as she began roughly plucking the pins from her hair.
He stood behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders "I did not want to embarrass her by simply leaving her in the middle of the dance floor. Perhaps I should have reconsidered."
"Perhaps you should have!" she cried, "Because your actions embarrassed me instead!"
"Good Lord," he groaned, "is that what this is all about? Your being embarrassed?"
She snatched the last of the remaining pins from her hair and threw them onto the floor, "It is about you hurting me!" she shouted, "Are you too dense to see that?"
There, she had said it. She didn't care! It was the truth, to hell with hiding it from him, this boorish, brutish man. It had hurt her, of course, to see him waltzing another, across the dance floor as she stroked his lapel. He had humiliated her in a crowded ballroom, the fancy Captain Butler, who can have his pretty young bride and a mistress both in the same room.
All those murmurings and vows that he had made to her while she lay in his arms at night. All so swiftly forgotten, not more than two weeks in, of course it had hurt her! Now, for all she cared he could keep his fancy dresses and stupid baubles, and go straight to hell, for as far as she was concerned, she could not be bought! Oh she had been such a fool to believe his sincerity!
He took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows. "Perhaps I am dense," he murmured, "Scarlett, I had no intention of hurting you…"
"How do you think, I felt, watching you from across the room, with this woman in your arms."
"I can see now," he said gently, "that you felt quite angry. I should have never accepted her invitation for a dance."
"No you shouldn't have! I felt so humiliated, as if I could not keep my own husband from …er…straying…not even on our honeymoon!" she cried out.
Ah, so down to the core of Eve's apple we go. Already, so soon, she had suspected his straying. Could he blame her really, he had a reputation that quite readily, preceded him.
"You know I would never do that." He said softly, as he reached and took the head of the brush in his hand. "You know I took our vows quite seriously my pet."
"I do not know." She said, closing her eyes and allowing him, to start with long careful strokes to untangle her locks.
"I have told you a hundred times Scarlett, must it be a hundred and one." He asked.
"Yes. It must be a million times if I so want it." She answered crisply. "Especially if you intend on behaving this way."
He paused for a moment. Who would have thought that he could so easily hurt this fiery young beauty? And who would have thought that in causing her pain, he would feel such sharp pangs himself. Ah how easily anger did shift to pain. He had hurt her, made her doubt him, so early in the game. He had never intended to do so. With one stupid dance, he stood to compromise her trust.
"Scarlett," he continued thoughtfully, "I do not intend on behaving this way ever again. I had a severe lapse in judgment when I allowed that…acquaintance…to lead me into a dance. I should have thought better on how my actions would affect you. I have hurt you my pet," he said softly, turning her to face him and cupping her chin, "and for that I am truly sorry."
She pressed her lips together, and a small thin, almost imperceptible hint of a smile began to form. "Rhett," she started, "You can cancel, the porter and my trip to Atlanta, tomorrow if you please."
He laughed softly and turned her face up towards his. "Did you really think I would allow you to go tomorrow?" He asked.
"Did you really think I would seek your consent?" she replied boldly.
"You are my wife," he answered, "I would certainly hope that you would not think to desert me during the course of our honeymoon."
"And I would certainly hope, that as a newly wedded husband you would think better on how to treat your wife , if you intend on keeping her, that is." she said with her chin set squarely and her eyes glowing.
He bowed slightly and leaned forward pressing his lips to hers. "I believe I have learned my first lesson as a married man my pet."
Scarlett O'Hara smiled, as she reached up and let her arms wrap around her husband. Shyly, hesitantly she let her fingers play with the soft, short hairs at the base of his neck. On this evening she had understood two things clearly; first, the violent, stabbing pains of jealousy that could make someone go mad with rage, and second, the intense, giddy, almost headless pleasure of "making up."
