Disclaimer:
I do not own Gone With the Wind, nor do I own anything associated with it. The only thing I own is this plot and my own interpretation. So please, don't sue me!
Author's Notes:
Well, I know that you are all probably impatient with the never ending waits between chapters, so I'll apologize for that. However, I must insist upon the necessity of these waits. If not, I fear that the much beloved characters would end up slaughtered and butchered by my writing. So please, bear with me. It's really for the good of the story!
Thanks to everyone who reviewed and have stuck with me throughout this story!
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After their walk about the gardens, Scarlett and Rhett entered the house, immediately separating. Rhett traveled to his study, his sanctuary, and Scarlett to the nursery. Their words in the garden had opened up wounds not yet healed, and both needed to nurse their pain in private. Their tentative reconciliation was not yet strong enough to weather the excruciating hurt both still held.
While Scarlett found her solace in her children, Rhett found it in his solitude.
He had sat in silence, his head in his hands, his heart trembling with emotions. Scarlett had wanted his child after all. When she had turned him from her room, shutting the door in his face, it had been more then the loss of a warm body. He had been in love with her then, as surely as he was today. The refusal to bear his children had not hurt him as much as the loss of their friendship had. He could understand not wanting another child. Scarlett, though she had had relatively easy pregnancies, had never adapted as graciously as other women had to a new child. She was not Melanie Wilkes. Rhett knew that, he was content with Bonnie. He had been content with Ella and Wade. But when she had begun locking her door to him, it was as if she had shut herself away from him forever. At one time, he had been her closest and dearest friend. She had shared secrets with him that none, save God perhaps, had heard. That loss, he had felt that loss deep within himself. The hurt she had produced in him then, the coldness with which she had spurned him, had haunted him for a long time. He made it his own, lashing out at her with the same treatment. Now that loneliness which she had forced upon him became his comfort. Perhaps he was so used to it, that it had become welcoming. Rhett was unable to figure out where to go from their garden conversation. She had told him that she loved him a thousand times, but he was still unable to offer his heart fully. He knew how it hurt her. Their intimacy was still unusual. She gave herself completely, but he held back the slightest bit.
Sighing, he opened his pocket watch, noting the inscription. It had been a gift from Scarlett on their second Christmas as husband and wife. However tumultuous their marriage was, she had still adored him as her confidante.
To Rhett, the most rotten scoundrel I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, your affectionate wife, Scarlett.
He had laughed uproariously at the time, kissing her passionately. He had not taken her words to heart then. Looking back, he regretted it. Perhaps it had been her tentative way to show how she felt about him. The night Melanie Wilkes had passed; she had told him that she had loved him all along, though she had never known it. Rhett damned himself for not picking up on her care for him until it was too late. His damned pride had kept him at arm's length. Every time he had showered her in his affections, he pulled away, saving himself from probable hurt. He looked across the wall at her picture. He had brought it with him, his guilty pleasure. He had wrapped it carefully the night he fled Atlanta, fled Scarlett and her children. She had been smiling secretively, like she knew something that he did not. Her eyes sparkled merrily. Though the daguerreotype was not in color, he could see the vivid hue of her eyes clearly. She was so beautiful. He could not bear to leave without some remnant of her. Many nights he had been tempted to destroy her likeness, but some twinge inside him, perhaps produced by copious amounts alcohol, had stopped him.
It was no use looking back, Rhett thought regretfully, using Scarlett's logic. He could only change their future.
Perhaps it was time to fully open his heart again, risking her scorn. Her love would be well worth the risk.
---
Scarlett kissed her daughter's hair spontaneously, looking deep within the girl's eyes. Guilt still flooded her when the girl's eyes showed surprise. Ella was still not used to her affection. Wade was even more uncomfortable with her embraces. Beau, used to such things, was oblivious to his new siblings' discomfort.
"Mother," Ella questioned hesitantly, "are you sad?"
Scarlett looked at her daughter in shock.
"Why do you ask, sweetheart?"
"Because Mother, your eyes look like they're wet. Have you been crying?"
Scarlett sat up straighter, wiping at her eyes briskly.
"Oh Ella," she smiled sadly, "you're so grown up sometimes. Why, you're practically a young lady! Where have all the years gone?"
Ella smiled at her mother enthusiastically
"Well, Mother, I can't stay little forever! Soon I'll be as big as Beau!" She did not understand what about growing up made her mother sad.
Scarlett reflected on this. It seemed as if had been ages since Wade had been a small boy. She remembered him, frightened and hiding behind her skirts. She had not the time for scared children. But she had loved him in her own way. Perhaps he had longed for affection and coddling, but Scarlett had been more interested in a full belly and safety. With Ella it had been the same way. She had been scarred from the war's hardships. All she could focus on was never wanting for anything again. Ella and Wade had never wanted for anything a day in their lives. With Scarlett providing for them, they had been healthy and safe. She had sacrificed many a meal and much sleep to see them living comfortably. But that wasn't the case anymore, Scarlett had started to realize. Since she had married Rhett, she hadn't wanted for anything either. Her children would always be provided for. Why had she kept them at arm's lengths? She could have embraced her natural job as their mother years ago. Sadly, she realized that she had been uninterested at the time. Scarlett had grown up much in the past year of her life. Losing almost everything had changed her, much more than she had realized. She drew her daughter into a hug, smiling at her sons over her shoulder. Sons, she thought warmly, I hope that you don't mind Melly. If you look after mine, it's only fair I look after yours.
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If the Bryant's had noted anything strained between their dinner companions, they had not said anything. They were pleasant companions and conversationalists. Hannah was a charming young woman, a little insecure and naïve, but a nice girl nonetheless. Scarlett suspected her to be twenty-three or twenty-four years old, feeling quite old in comparison. Now, she did not look it, she knew. She prided herself on her appearance. But inside, she felt ancient. She had seen and done things that this young girl would never dream of. Scarlett's hands were stained with far more impurity than Hannah Bryant would ever know. Little did she know that this was the reason Hannah was so drawn to her. She knew that she was inexperienced in the world's ways; she thought that a friendship with Scarlett Butler would help her challenge that more gracefully.
John Bryant was a stoic man, a little cold from a first impression. However, as the night went on and the wine was poured, he loosened up a bit. He made conversation with Rhett about profit and business, complimenting him often. Rhett too felt old, though the man could not be but seven or eight years younger than him.
"So," Scarlett asked politely, her southern charm and manners falling over her personality like shroud, "how old are your children? They are just darling little things!"
"Thank you," Hannah flushed, "Edith is just five years old and John is only a month short of a year old. Your children are just lovely, Mrs. Butler. How old are they?"
Scarlett smiled proudly. "Wade Hampton is just ten this year, Beau is eight, and Ella Lorena is approaching seven."
Hannah smiled softly, "What beautiful names, your children have, Mrs. Butler, Mr. Butler!"
Rhett smiled, his white teeth flashing. Scarlett caught his eyes, pleading for his silence. None of her three children were fathered by him, God's nightgown, one of them was not even her own! But he kept silent on that matter.
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Bryant." He said it in a genuinely proud tone of voice.
Scarlett smiled up at him through lowered lashes and he returned the smile right after. Perhaps a night of appearances won't be so bad, she thought pensively, as her husband took her hand under the table, wrapping his fingers around her own and giving her hand a tender squeeze.
Across the table, Hannah Bryant sighed dreamily, wishing that she could be a recipient of the loving gaze Mr. Butler sent his wife and that she had the courage of Mrs. Butler to return it.
---
"Are the children in bed?" Scarlett whispered to her husband as he peered to the door of the nursery.
"Yes," he answered quietly, his voice low. "They're sound asleep." He shut the door quietly, turning the lamp off completely. He
"Good," she sighed in relief, "I'm so tired I could fall asleep right here! I haven't danced in so long, you near wore me out tonight, Mr. Butler." She smiled up at him as she teased him.
Rhett smiled down at his wife, taking in her drooping eyes and her tired smile.
"We'll have to go dancing more often, my pet, with a partner as light on her feet as you are, I like being the envy of every man in the building. Not all can boast that they have the first and last dance of Scarlett O'Hara!"
She leaned her head onto his upper arm tiredly, yawning widely.
"If I weren't so exhausted, Rhett Butler, I would hit you for your vanity."
"Oh, Scarlett," he laughed, "you know you love my vanity."
She mumbled something incoherent, her feet dragging as she tried to keep up with the strides of her much-taller husband. She was very surprised when he turned around abruptly and she found herself being scooping into his arms. It was a purely natural reaction, she found, to slip her arms around his neck and bury her face in the crook of his shoulder.
Rhett made his way to their room silently, trying not to think about how many times he carried their Bonnie like this, especially when she was tired. Perhaps that is why I loved Bonnie so much, he mused, she was just like her mother in so many ways.
Scarlett removed herself from his arms, prying herself downward in order to get undressed. Covering her mouth as it split in another yawn, she began to unfasten her dress. Her fingers slipped and stumbled through her buttons, but the dress fell away from her shoulders and she stepped out of it. Splashing her face with water, she turned back to her husband.
"Rhett," she began, before stopping abruptly. Her husband had been in the process of raking his eyes over her body, stopping hungrily on her face. His eyes were hooded and he stepped closer. "Would you mind?" She turned around, gesturing to her stays.
She nearly gasped aloud as his fingers seemed to caress the ties open, lingering tantalizingly close to her back. His hands traveled downward and she closed her eyes, her head tipping backwards, relaxed. The corset also dropped from her body, leaving her in her shimmy. She reached for her nightgown and her wrapper before stepping out of his sight. She returned a moment later, her wrapper hanging loosely from her shoulders. He had already stripped into his nightclothes and robe.
She walked to him steadily, his arms already opened for an embrace. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, his circled her waist. She stayed there for a moment, content to simply be held in his warm arms, close to him. She put her ear to his chest, the steady lull of his heartbeat making her drowsy. He gently guided her to the bed, the covers already pulled away. She climbed into bed, and once he was beside her, snuggled up to his chest.
"Goodnight Rhett," she whispered, half-asleep, "I love you."
"Goodnight Scarlett," he whispered in return, "I love you too."
If she hadn't been so tired, Scarlett would have jumped for joy. He said it! He had said it in return! An exhausted smile stretched on her face and stayed on her face until morning came.
---
Rhett awoke the next morning with a smile on his face, Scarlett was nestled close to him and the sun shone brightly. Birds chirped gaily, he could hear the sounds of the children laughing in the nursery and smell the breakfast. He turned over, on his side, watching as his wife slept. My wife, he thought happily, my wife who loves me. He had never imagined waking up to her would feel so amazing, that hearing those words would be so incredible. He quietly slipped out of the covers, intent of spending the entire day spoiling her, catering to her every whim. He had married her with this intention in his mind, to make sure that she was the happiest woman alive. Now, he could finally fulfill this task.
He laid out a dress for her, a beautiful white dress with green print, much like the one she had worn on their first meeting, that day so long ago at Twelve Oaks. Searching eagerly for a hat to wear, he rifled through her many hatboxes, eagerly, yet quietly, emptying her valise. He grinned when he found the box he was looking for, lifting it out triumphantly. When a thick wad of paper was revealed, his curiosity got the better of him. He picked it up, unraveling the pink hair ribbon that held the bundle of what were now revealed to be letters together. He turned them over, reading the address once. In the silence of the room, the slap of the envelopes hitting the floor sounded like a thunderclap, ominous to his ears.
How could I have been so fooled, he lamented, what a pretty little liar, she is!
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Scarlett drifted into wakefulness, yearning at once to both wake up and go back to sleep. I'd do well to get up and attend to the children, she reminded herself, so I can spend the rest of the day attending to my husband. She grinned happily, stretching her arms with a yawn. Humming a little tune, she leaned against the headboard.
"Oh, she wept with delight when he gave her a smile, and trembled with fear at his frown!" Singing off-key, she threw the covers off of her, noting the dress and slippers at the vanity.
"Oh, how sweet of him!"
She called Pansy in to help her with her stays and was soon dressed and ready to meet her husband downstairs, where she knew he would be. As Pansy folded up her mistress's nightgown, she looked at the ground.
"Miss Scarlett, would yah like Pansy ta get rid o' these ole' papers?"
"What papers, Pansy? What are you blabbering on about?"
She looked down at felt her heart jump into her throat. Yellowed letters were scattered about the hardwood floors, the pink ribbon cast adrift among them, like wreckage of a ship from the hands of disastrous storm.
"God's nightgown," she breathed, swaying perilously on her feet, "the letters."
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So here we have a chapter full of angst…and suspense! Reviews are lovely!
