The Past Rises Up
Rhett waited out on the porch for Scarlett. Anthony had been tucked away in the nursery with the boys, who had never even awakened, and Ella's two girls were in with the girl twins, who had. All of the children were or would be overjoyed to see their cousins, so Rhett anticipated no problems there. He had offered Jeb a bed and a place to stable his horse overnight, but Jeb had turned him down, saying that Daisy did best in her own barn. Rhett thought that was just a polite way of getting out of something he didn't really want to do, but Jeb wasn't any concern of his, so he let it go. Now he sipped a glass of cold tea and wondered what problems had made Ella throw herself in her mother's arms earlier.
"Is she all right?" he asked Scarlett, when at last she joined him. He poured her a glass of tea from the pitcher beside him; it had become their evening ritual, to sit out on the porch and discuss the events of their days.
Scarlett shrugged. "In the physical sense. She'll be all right tomorrow, with a little sleep in a bed that doesn't move, and a good meal inside of her. But she's very upset about...other things." Scarlett paused, taking a long drink of tea. Rhett waited with a patience that had been hard-won; he knew that pushing her would only result in an angry quarrel, but waiting might mean that she would talk to him.
After a moment, she sighed. "Is it too difficult to talk about?" he asked at last, his voice very gentle. He knew that Scarlett often felt very protective of her two eldest children, perhaps because she felt that she hadn't protected them enough early in their lives.
"Justin has a mistress," Scarlett said, abruptly, forcing the words out. "Ella says that he's been keeping a woman – or I suppose I should say, a series of women – in a little house he owns in a different area of London. She says he's been doing this since she was expecting Anthony."
"Ah," Rhett said, taking another drink of his tea.
"She wanted advice from me. Ha! As if I'd be the person to ask about what to do if your husband is unfaithful. I couldn't keep you from consorting with Belle Watling, who was a common prostitute, and probably others like her, as well."
Rhett felt as if he were picking his way across a field of booby traps, and he had the idea that there was no possible good end to this conversation. "Scarlett," he said, as gently as he could, "that was after you kicked me out of your bed after Bonnie was born -"
"I'm not talking about then!" she said. "You always went to her, Rhett. We hadn't been back from our honeymoon for a week when one of the ladies who called on me told me that you'd been seen in that Watling creature's place. Everyone knew it! They all laughed at me behind my back – not even three months married, and my husband is already back dealing with bad women. All I could do was hold my head up and pretend it didn't matter." Scarlett's voice held anger, but underneath the anger, he could hear the hurt.
Rhett reached out and took her hand gently. At first her fingers remained curled tightly, but he worked slowly, caressing and loosening, until he could clasp her open hand in his. "Scarlett, of all the things that I regret the most about our first marriage, that I did not end my relationship with Belle when you and I married is high on the list. I should have. Not doing so was foolish – and what's more, I knew it. But there was part of me that was so angry with you for continuing to care for Ashley, and that part of me didn't care that my behavior gave you reason to think badly of me. I told myself that it was none of your business -"
"None of my business if my husband was visiting a – a house of ill-repute? Rhett, you couldn't have been so foolish as to believe that. Why, just the possibility that you would get a disease and pass it on to me, or our children -"
"I never slept with them -" he interrupted.
She stared at him.
He grimaced, and his hand automatically came up to stroke his mustache.
"Not until you had kicked me out of your bedroom," he amended. "After that, all bets were off, but before, I was faithful."
"But you went there regularly," she protested. "Once a week, sometimes more often."
"To visit an old friend. I played cards, or occasionally dice, and had a few drinks. Then I came home to you." He sighed deeply. "I told myself that it was the same thing as your friendship with Ashley Wilkes – that if you could visit his mills, I could visit the business I shared with Belle, but the truth is, I knew better. I knew you would hear, and that it would sting your pride, and I wanted it to hurt you. Because you hurt me, every time you went to see him."
Scarlett looked at him, and even in the dim light of the setting moon, she could see that he was telling the truth. She turned her hand so that she could return his grip. "Oh, Rhett. What fools we were," she mourned softly.
"I agree. We were idiots, and so we lost each other, and had to go through a great deal of pain to get each other back."
"Let's do better this time," she suggested.
He laughed. "Scarlett, we are doing better," he told her. Bending his head, he kissed her, long and sweet, until they were both breathless.
"Mama?"
It was Ella's voice. Ah, the joys of family life, Rhett thought, quirking an eyebrow and smiling ironically as he settled back in the swing.
"Yes, Ella?"
To his secret delight, Scarlett didn't sound any happier about the interruption than he was.
"I just remembered something," Ella said, padding out on the porch, barefooted, clad only in a plain cotton wrapper over a nightgown that her mother had loaned her. "It might not be important, but it might, too, so I wanted to tell you before I forgot again. Do you remember Justin's cousin, Rodney? The one who was here for the wedding?"
"Yes, I remember him quite well, as a matter of fact. He was – an unpleasant fellow."
"He still is," Ella said. "One of the good things about not going to any more balls with Diantha is that I won't have to dance with him for courtesy anymore. Anyway, I know that you had unpleasant dealings with him when he came for the wedding, so I just thought I should tell you that he's back."
"Back in America? Are you sure?" Rhett sounded concerned.
"Yes, I'm certain. I saw him disembark from the ship at the same time I did, and what's more, he saw me. He hid from me, Uncle Rhett, when he saw me there on the docks. What's more, in the last several weeks, I've seen him talking to Diantha several times, and she has always despised him. It occurred to me that they might be planning some kind of trouble, so I thought I might should tell you about it."
Scarlett sighed. "I do hope not," she said. "We've definitely already had all the trouble we want with him." She rose lightly to her feet. "I believe I am ready for bed. I know it's earlier than usual, but I'm plumb tuckered out."
Rhett laughed at his wife's exaggerated version of country talk. "I am, too," he agreed. "Ella, tomorrow we'll warn the boys about him – Beau and Wade I mean -"
"Will they even remember who he is?" Ella asked.
"They won't have forgotten. They were part of the unpleasant dealings I had with him," Rhett assured her.
"Oh, were they?" Ella asked, rising to her feet. "I don't think you ever did tell me all the story; I'd like to hear it sometime."
Scarlett glanced at Rhett. "Yes, I suppose I should tell you some of it, just so that you understand why we think he might be more dangerous than the word 'unpleasant' implies," Scarlett said. "Good night, dear. Sleep well."
"And remember, you're welcome to say here as long as you like," Rhett said. "You and the children."
"Thank you, Uncle Rhett," Ella said. She kissed her mother and stepfather, then went back to the bedroom allotted to her.
In the morning, things looked a little better for Ella. It was Saturday, so the children were home from school, and Scarlett had planned to spend the day with the girls, picking apples from the orchard not far from the house. "We always take a picnic," she told Ella. "There's a creek that runs nearby; after we eat, the girls swim and play near the water. Your girls are welcome to come along; I'd love to have them, and Lanie and Katie will enjoy having younger girls to tend."
"I suppose it's all right," Ella said uncertain if the girls would want to go. They were such city girls; even when they went to the English countryside, they were never allowed to romp or get their clothes dirty. To her surprise, the girls reacted to the idea with wild enthusiasm. Lorena (who was already being called Lorry by her 'Aunt' Lanie, confided to her mother that it sounded like 'ever so much fun.'
"If they're going to stay for more than a few days, they'll need some play outfits," Scarlett said, surveying the two younger girls. Their dresses, of plain muslin trimmed with ribbon to match their eyes(green for Lorena Scarlett, blue for Sophie Ellen), were the simplest they had, and still far too fancy for an ordinary day at Pine Bloom. "Anthony, as well. We'll go to town in the next several days and buy some material. Dilcey and her daughters can sew them up in a few days; they make extra money doing that. A few simple dresses for the girls, some overalls for Anthony."
"I think that would be an excellent idea," Ella answered.
"Dilcey says she fed Anthony a bit of thin oatmeal this morning, and he kept it down fine. She'll be glad to keep him with her, if you'd like to go visit Sally Jo. I know you and she have always been so close... Did you know that she's expecting?"
"How wonderful!" Ella said with enthusiasm. "I'd really love to go and talk to her, if Anthony is all right. Sometimes he doesn't take well to strangers."
"You can check on him before we head to the barn," Scarlett said. She didn't sound in the least worried, and for good reason; when the two women stopped by the kitchen, Anthony was sitting in a high chair as no fewer than three of Dilcey's younger granddaughters played simple games with him, singing silly songs and putting their hands over his eyes for peek-a-boo.
"Don't you worry 'bout him, Miz Ella. Dose girls loves to have dem a little doll-baby to play wit'."
"If you're sure," Ella said. Dilcey just waved her away.
Sally Jo half-expected Ella to visit. She had heard of her unheralded arrival from Wade, who had heard it very early that morning from Jeb. Wade wanted to wait around to speak to his sister on the subject of being more careful, but Sally Jo waved him away. "There will be plenty of time to read her the riot act," she told him, laughing. Wade went as she ordered; he would do almost anything to please his lovely wife, especially when she glowed with good health and happiness the way she did now.
Wade was glad that she was expecting their first child, but part of him was happy that they had gotten five good years together, just the three of them, before a new baby came to divide his wife's attention. Will spent half his time at Pine Bloom, romping with his aunts and uncles, so Wade and Sally Jo had enjoyed long periods of privacy. They had reciprocated by inviting all the children to stay with them at least once a month. Uncle Rhett had solemnly told him that looking forward to that was the only thing that saved his sanity, more than once, but Wade didn't believe it. Uncle Rhett looked younger and healthier than he had all those years ago when he had been married to Mama the first time.
So Wade went, when Sally Jo shooed him out. He had plenty of work to do; Jeb's work ethic was excellent, but some of the other men slacked off if the boss wasn't right there, watching everything that happened.
Wade had only just left when the knock came at the door. Sally Jo answered it, smiling, certain that it would be Ella.
Rodney stood there, instead.
"Hello, Mrs Hamilton," he said mockingly. "Haven't you become – Americanized." He surveyed the plain gingham dress she wore, and her hair piled carelessly on top of her head, and his tone made it clear that, in his view, she might as well have become one of the savages that still lived out west.
Sally Jo had known and disliked Rodney since she was a girl. Wade had confided in her what had happened when the hotel in Atlanta had burned down, and Sally Jo had laughed at the fitting revenge taken on him.
"And you're a lot cleaner than you were when Wade saw you last, but it doesn't mean you stink less," Sally Jo said, contempt dripping from her words like venom from a snake's fangs. "Get out of here, Rodney; no one wants to see you ever again."
He put his hand on the door, holding it open when she would have slammed it in his face. His eyes had narrowed with anger at the insult, but his face didn't change in any other way. He wore the expression of a man who was certain he had the upper hand.
"And I see you're expecting again," he said, his voice low and deadly. "Well, at least this time, you'll know who the father is."
Sally Jo froze, incredulous. Of all the people she might have wanted to know her secret, Rodney was at the absolute bottom of the list.
"That's right," he told her softly. "I know everything...including the identity of Will's father." He handed her an envelope. Sally Jo took it with numb fingers. "Give this to your husband when he gets home. It gives him my terms for not telling everyone in the county what I know."
"Th-they won't believe you," she said, knowing that she sounded weak and afraid. She was weak and afraid.
"Most of them probably won't," he said, shrugging nonchalantly. "But it only takes one who does to tell your son...and I gather that your new family has some enemies. Perhaps I should begin spreading the tale at the local feed store, hmm? Or the sheriff's office?" He stepped back and gave her a mocking bow. "I'm sorry I won't be able to stay for lunch, Mrs Hamilton, but I have pressing business elsewhere. Give my compliments to your husband; the arrangements for our next meeting are in the envelope I gave you."
Sally Jo slammed the door as hard as she could, but it didn't erase the memory of his mocking smile, or the knowledge that her past had come back to haunt her, just as she had always known it would.
One of the problems with writing in the mystery/suspense genre is you have to write about a variety of people. Yesterday, it was Jeb, who everyone agrees was a nice man... but today, it's Rodney, and after writing one small scene with him, I feel like I need a shower. It's for a good cause...what would a story be without a villain... but yuck!
So, what do you think? Are some of the loose threads beginning to come together? I hope I know where this is going, unless Muse falls in love with another new and shiny idea. If she does, all bets are off, and I just hang onto my hat. Reviews are always welcome!
