A/N (if you're not a guest who reviewed, you can skip this):
In response to the guest reviewer- I don't want to give too much away re: Scarlett's knowledge of/consent to the divorce, but I will say this with regards to Rhett's reaction to the rape in the novel: I believe he was ashamed of it, but didn't exactly regret it. He regretted that he thought he hadn't worked in making Scarlett forget about Ashley and be attracted to him instead, but that's different than feeling guilty or remorseful. He was too cowardly to face her after the fact and so ran away to Belle's for several days, so he didn't actually witness Scarlett's recovery from it. I think it's like what he said to her when he went to propose right after Frank's death: "You're like the thief that isn't the least bit sorry he stole, but is very, very sorry that he's going to jail." That's what Rhett admires in Scarlett because he sees it in himself. And by his own admission, he's never going to change.
As for Belle saying that her testimony may not help Will's case, that is merely Belle being frank and honest as she is known for. Belle's perspective towards Rhett is obviously biased, since she is in love with him. But at the same time, for years she's seen him drink, smoke, gamble, deal with corrupt politicians, and buy cheap sex, all without an ounce of shame. More than anyone else, she knows the real him. That's what could end up being wonderful or terrifying- making or breaking Scarlett's case. Oh, and also, Melanie persuaded her to meet with Will. I forgot to mention that.
And to the guest who reviewed Ch. 1, if you're still reading: Ashley was in prison all throughout Melanie's pregnancy. There's nothing he could have done to be there for her. Also, he was quite poor after the war and couldn't have paid the taxes on Tara. He didn't want to live off Scarlett's charity. He was proud, and wanted to go up North and make his own living. The only reason he stayed was that Melanie basically guilted him into taking Scarlett's job offer at the lumber mill in Atlanta. In the book, he is way too hard on himself, but is actually a super cool dude, and I can't stand to see him bashed.
Anyway, sorry for the really long A/N. On to the story! Oh, and by the way, the offer's still open for the 50th reviewer! Which really means be the first to review this chapter!
One Week After the Incident
Will had agreed to reconvene with Ashley the following morning. They met in Ashley's house, because Pittypat couldn't be allowed to hear the name of the person with whom Will had spoken. Ashley sat upright at the table, waiting for him.
"What did she say?" asked Ashley, without a greeting.
"'ts worse'n I'd hoped, 'n better'n I'd feared," said Will bluntly, as if this explained everything. He sat down beside Ashley, struggling to get comfortable.
"So I take it she talked to you," said Ashley. "Well, it does help to have friends in the right places, Mr. Benteen. I must say, my wife is truly a social butterfly. She's more charming than she knows, though in quite a different way than Mrs. Butler."
"Yessir, you oughta thank 'er fer me fer givin' Watling the heads-up," said Will in his usual lazy voice. "She din't say nothin' 'bout it, but if'n Mrs. Wilkes hadn't reasoned wit her, I reckon she wouldn't even've agreed to see me."
"Yes, it was quite a maneuver for Watling and Mrs. Wilkes to meet in secret," Ashley agreed. "This is excellent news. I suppose we'll have to tell Uncle Henry right away. He'll be thrilled."
Before she returned to Atlanta, Scarlett made a stop at Tara. Alex drove her down the dirt road towards her beloved former home, then wrapped her in a fraternal embrace before he dropped her off on the front steps. None of the Fontaines were going inside to meet Suellen and Mammy. Truthfully, they were quite glad to have her not be their problem anymore- almost as glad as Scarlett just needed to drink in the sights, sounds and smells of her childhood in order to revitalize her strength and spirit before she could go back to Atlanta and face her husband. To refresh her will to live, to remind her of why she went on.
Mammy was not coming with her to Atlanta. She had wanted to, saying that the children needed someone to look after them; but the others had insisted that she was far too ill to travel, that it was a miracle she had even survived the journey to Tara. They reminded her that she had come to Tara to die. And now, it looked like she really was dying. She was bedridden and waited on by Dilcey. Scarlett couldn't stand to think that this might be the last time she ever saw her Mammy. So she didn't think it.
Suellen did not greet Scarlett with word or gesture. She merely opened the door for her and sourly called the children. They lined up side by side, as Mammy had taught them to do when receiving company. At the sight of their mother, they looked relieved, terrified and confused all at once. Ella looked as if she might finally have her questions answered.
"Children, say goodbye to your mother," said Suellen blandly.
"Oh no, Suellen, they're coming with me," Scarlett said coldly. "I've just come to pick them up."
"Scarlett, I don't think that's a good idea," Suellen said.
"They'll be safer in Atlanta with me, where I can watch over them," Scarlett said stubbornly.
"Scarlett," said Suellen, softly and tensely, "may I speak with you in private for a moment?"
Scarlett stared at her. Since when did Suellen care about privacy? She never hesitated to make a scene when things didn't go her way, if it would humiliate someone else. But perhaps she had genuinely matured since the last time Scarlett visited Tara. Perhaps marriage and motherhood had mellowed her out like Ellen had said would happen to every lady, but not Scarlett. Perhaps she was simply afraid of what Will's reaction would be, as she was now used to his cool discipline. For once Scarlett was glad that men ran the household. Just so long as it wasn't her household.
"Why don't you have the spine to say it to my face in front of all of us, Suellen?" Scarlett challenged, just to be contrary.
"Children," said Suellen, "go upstairs. Now." The children, fearful yet curious, obeyed with varying degrees of reluctance; but not without stealing downward glances before they disappeared from sight.
"I knew you were a bad mother, Scarlett," said Suellen, approaching her sister with arms akimbo. "But it seems I didn't know just quite how bad you actually were. You actually plan to take your children into a city where everyone hates you, and parade them around to garner pity for yourself in a pathetic divorce case? You don't have the gall to divorce Captain Butler. You're too in love with his money. If what you say about him is true, then you fear he'll murder you and the children; and if it isn't, you're just being weak. And you're too blind to see that Ashley and Will are just using you."
"No one is using me," Scarlett countered. "You just hope I don't get a divorce because you love Captain Butler's money as much as I do!"
"You don't care about your children at all," Suellen accused, shouting in Scarlett's face. "You never did. You're just afraid of going to hell if you abandon them!"
"I don't believe in hell anymore, Suellen!" Scarlett shouted back. "I'm not scared of hell or high water or any of that childish nonsense! I only want what's best for myself and my children, and if you don't believe me, I don't give a damn! It's my family and I have the right to do what I want with it!"
"Go then," Suellen hissed. "You're no sister of mine. I don't want you or your husband's filthy money. Take your brats and get out of here. But if you do decide to get a divorce, you're on your own. You have no home here."
"I think your husband would beg to differ."
"In his absence, I am in charge," said Suellen. "And I don't think he'll be back for a while."
Scarlett looked at her pocket watch. "I don't have time for this," she said brusquely, heading up the stairs. "Children, come. We're going to have a nice walk to the train station."
She forgot to say goodbye to Mammy. Or maybe it was just too painful.
"How'd'ya s'pose our Prissy is gettin' on?" asked Pork suddenly, seeing his wife come out of Mammy's bedroom holding some dirty linens. Scarlett had just left, and the house felt empty again.
"Ah dunno," said Dilcey. "She's bin up in 'Lanta fo' 'most seven years now an' hardly ever comes back tuh visit her ma an' pa. Ah s'pose dey be keepin' her real busy wid dem chilluns."
"She all grown up," Pork said wistfully. "She doan need us no mo'."
"Ah wonders if she done found husself a man up dere," said Dilcey. "She could be married wid chillun by now an' we wouldn't even know it."
Pork's eyes lit up suddenly. "She ain't a slave no more, Dilcey," he said. "She could habe husself a real weddin', one wid de law an' all."
Dilcey nodded. "She luckier den us."
"She doan habe tuh be."
Dilcey looked up abruptly. "Whut do you mean by dat?"
"Miz Dilcey," said Pork kindly, taking her by the arm, "it just 'curred tuh me dat you and Ah ain't nebber had no weddin'."
"'Course we done had a weddin', you silly goose," said Dilcey. "Doan you 'member? Jumpin' de broom? It wuz jus' befo' you done been sold over heah. Right afore our Prissy wuz born."
"Dat wuz a slabe weddin'," said Pork. "Dat doan count, dat's not de real ting. Dey could separate us from each udder for so long, separate a man from his chile. Dat doan carry no weight wid the w'ite fokes. If it hadn't bin for de kindness of Mr. O'Hara, we wouldn't nebber ha' seen each udder agin. Ah'd jes' lak our Prissy tuh habe a real fambly, afore de Yankees leabe an' take all our protections fo' us wid dem. Dis is de bes' chance we ebber gon' git. Tink on it. We had all dis time tuh git ousselves mah'ied, an' we ain't nebber done it." To Dilcey's great surprise, Pork kneeled down before her. "Miz Dilcey, how would you lak to marry dis man fo' real?"
Dilcey gasped and put her hand over her mouth. "Mist' Pork... you mean, in a chuhch an' all?"
"Dat's jes' whut Ah mean," said Pork triumphantly. "Down at de Negro church in Jonesboro. We'd have flowers an' cake an- "
"Doan be silly, Pork," said Dilcey. "Who'd come?"
"Everyone," said Pork cheerfully. "All de former slabes. An' we'd bring Prissy down from 'Lanta- "
"Mist' Pork, we ain't got no money," said Dilcey.
"Ah'd borrow some from de fambly," Pork told her.
"De fambly ain't got no money needer. Dey kin barely 'ford tuh keep us on. Eben if dey did, you tink dey'd spend it on us? Dey still tink on us as dere slabes. Ain't no Yankee law gwine change dat. An' eben if dey did loan you de money, how you 'spect tuh pay it back? Ah doan wanna start our mah'ied life in debt. You hear de tings dey do tuh negroes whut cain't pay back dere loans- "
As if in response, Suellen walked by the hall. "Miz Benteen," said Pork, bowing deferentially.
"What's going on here? Did I miss something?" demanded Suellen. She was never one to miss a piece of gossip, even if it was about the darkies.
"Ain't nuthin', Miz Benteen," said Pork, but then Dilcey pinched his arm.
"Axe her," Dilcey whispered.
"Ask me what?" said Suellen, folding her arms.
"It's jes', yer fambly's always bin so kind tuh us, Miz Benteen, an' we are all so grateful- "
"Miz Benteen," said Dilcey calmly, "Pork an' Ah would lak tuh git married. In de chuhch. But Ah wuz jes' tellin' him dat we doan habe no money tuh pay de preacher. Ain't dat right, Pork?"
"Yes'm," Pork agreed. "But we would greatly 'preciate some generosity- "
"Pork, I scrub the kitchen three times a week," said Suellen drily. "I used to be a belle. I don't know where you expect to get that kind of money, but it sure won't be from us."
"Dat's whut Ah've bin tryin' tuh tell him," said Dilcey. "Ah'm sorry tuh habe wasted yo' time, ma'am."
"Doan give up so eas'ly, Miz Dilcey," said Pork when Suellen was out of earshot. "Whut 'bout de extended fambly? Miz Scahlett an' her husband got more cash den de entire state a Georgia put tuhgedder."
Dilcey laughed drily, but her face looked sad. "You ain't heard?"
Pork laughed. "Naw, Ah ain't heard. Heard whut?"
"Miz Scahlett an' Cap'n Butler're gettin' divorced. Dey ain't on speakin' terms no more. Honestly, Pork, ain'tchoo wonder whut Miz Scahlett come down heah all of a sudden fo'?"
"Dat's jes' a rumor," said Pork. "Ah doan tink Miz Scahlett has it in her tuh git a divorce. Jes' tink whut Miz Ellen would say- "
"Miz Ellen dead, Pork," said Dilcey drily. "She bin dead all dese eight years. Miz Scahlett ain't her daughter no more."
Pork's face brightened. "Den it's eben better dat she git divorced," he said, clapping his hands. "She'll git half of Cap'n Butler's money an' she woan habe tuh listen tuh him no more 'bout whut tuh do wid it. She fambly, Miz Dilcey. She help us out."
Dilcey shrugged and looked away. "Ah ain't so sho', Pork," she said.
"Well," reasoned Pork, "it cain't huht."
