A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who has read and reviewed so far… Please keep the comments coming, as they help me become a better writer and tell a better story! (Also, I wanted to take this opportunity for a shameless plug to my other GWTW story in progress, "Falling In". If you have a moment, check it out!
Chapter 12
"Is that a little pig I hear in there?"
"No suh, Mastah Rhett. He's jes' hungry, thas all, suh."
"He's alright though?"
"Yes suh. Squallin' up a storm 'til Ah's fed him good."
"Good," Rhett sighed drolly as he attempted to return to his newspaper. Wouldn't Rosemary and Scarlett love it when they saw that they'd made national headlines?
The wetnurse he had found, Rebecca, a servant of Mrs. Davis, dismissed herself to tend to her own babe, who was waiting in the other compartment. Rhett took Wade up in his arms and stroked his fuzz of hair.
After placing an indulgent kiss upon the tiny head, Rhett attempted a lullaby to coax the child to sleep. He was a remarkably good baby, not easily given to crying, and only then when he was hungry or wet. His facial expressions changed periodically, which was vastly entertaining to Rhett, who recovered him with a soft blanket.
"Alright little man, go to sleep now."
Wade blinked twice as he stared up at the now familiar face.
"I mean it. I have a lot of work to do and I can't do it with you staring at me." His matter-of-fact address of the child drew a chuckle from Rebecca, who had peeked out from her own compartment to ascertain that her services were no longer required. "That chile don' understand you, suh."
"Of course he understands," Rhett said, continuing in his discussion with Wade as the lady took her leave from them.
"Now I mean it, Wade Hampton Hamilton. To sleep with you, little man. We'll be at camp in a little over an hour and you'll need to be fresh for your Uncle Ashley. I will too, come to think of it..."
Rhett shut his eyes, the picture of Scarlett's golden-haired cavalier fresh in his mind. Did she still love him as much as she had professed that day at Twelve Oaks? Or more importantly, did the honorable Ashley hold a torch for Scarlett? He'd have to hope that he did; procuring help for them might be difficult, else…not that Rhett had any cause to doubt Ashley's affection for his own sweet wife. It was merely that Scarlett, in Rhett's mind, was a better bargaining chip. Looking down at Wade Hampton's chubby-cheeked countenance, Rhett felt himself overcome by a sense of warmth. He had a responsibility to see to the baby's safety, and as much as he wanted to take off in the direction of Washington, Wade's wellbeing had to be his first priority. After all, the Yankees were notoriously easy on women, even those accused of espionage, as Rosemary had been, according to the papers. But Rhett could get that wiped away…what were friends in Congress for, after all? But procuring three persons' freedom was infinitely more difficult than just one, and Rhett had a sneaking suspicion that none of the three would leave without the others…even Scarlett…
Smirking, he retrieved his hat and jacket and wrapped Wade in his own overcoat as the train pulled to a stop.
"Cap'n Butler," the porter said nervously, "We's here, suh. I tole you I ain't supposed to take no passengahs."
Rhett shoved a handful of bills into the stuttering man's hand. "I appreciate your trouble. I hope that this eases your burden considerably. Now, if you would do me another favor and watch out for the girl I hired to suckle this babe…she'll need respite and food, if you'd see to that while I'm conducting my business at camp…" he pulled out another wad of bills from his coat pocket, a greater amount of money the man had not beheld in all of his days, "…I'd be happy to compensate you after we are safely in Maryland."
"Then, suh?" the wide-eyed porter said, "What'd you be doin' then, suh?"
Rhett raised an elegant dark eyebrow. "Going visiting."
. . . .
Ashley Wilkes knew his name was Rhett Butler, that he was a friend of both Melly and Scarlett, and he was aware of something else as well, that the tall raven-haired man was staring at him again. But he was Ashley Wilkes of Twelve Oaks, Major, C.S.A., adjutant to General Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson who had gained high esteem from his commanding officers for his deeds upon the battlefield, to be honored here tonight, and he would give the insidious blockade runner's attention the lack of regard it deserved. And still, he was bothered by it…Tall and powerfully built, it wasn't Butler's height nor display of musculature which caused him to stand out amongst the other guests. No, there was a display of confidence, clearly worn, which distinguished Rhett Butler from the tired, shabbily dressed Confederates.
He turned away quickly, returning to the whispered conversation at hand between General Lee and his direct subordinates, a conversation that affected Major Wilkes himself directly, for it regarded his own wife and sister-in-law, and their apparent capture by Federal raiders. Butler was listening too, Ashley could see that, for all that the other man stood at the opposite end of the room, the throng of other guests in between them. It troubled Ashley's own keen sense of honor that he was barely able to pay attention to General Lee's words of reassurance due to his increased awareness of Butler's long shadow in the room. How rude the man was - eavesdropping so flagrantly! But one should not expect any better from a blockade-runner, a man not received by any decent Southern family.
Again he tried to be pleasant as Colonel Pickett commented in his loud voice upon the grandeur of the Virginia mansion in which they were dining, sentiments Ashley echoed with his own soft-spoken praise. A massive fireplace boasted high, cheerful flames, but Ashley felt no warmth from the hearth. Melly and Scarlett and Rosemary Butler were in grave danger, and all he, Ashley, could do was comment about the fine accommodations he was enjoying. If only he possessed enough fortitude to approach General Lee about plans for a prisoner exchange. Charlie would, for certain, were he present. But his cousin was far away, all the way in Shiloh, Tennessee, according to his last letter, serving under General Albert S. Johnston, and blissfully unaware of his wife and sister's predicament. So Ashley had bided his time, waiting for the opportune moment to discuss the situation further with General Lee, who privately suffered from the effects of old age and days spent riding in the saddle. He was so like Ashley's own father, he opined, musing to himself, he's meant for better things than this…
But Ashley had been invited by Lee himself, and he would at least attempt to be sociable. After all, he had been promoted, and it was nothing if not his duty to appear as stoic as possible throughout the hard winter. Ashley could not allow his worry to overcome him - but why, why was Rhett Butler staring him down so intently?
Ashley excused himself from his companions before he weaved his way through the crowded room, pausing briefly to admire the painting which hung over the mantle. The subject was a crimson clad woman who vaguely reminded him of Scarlett in demeanor and about the eyes. The artist had chosen a background of deepest blue, as if she stood out as a specter in midst of a mighty cloud. One knew not if she was entering or being carried up and away from sight, but Ashley suspected that it mattered not - the woman was always watching, waiting. But enough of that, Ashley chastised himself internally as he tore his gaze away from the painting. But it was comforting to him; after all, he had been a guest in few houses so fine on his tour of Virginia. The war had made works of fine art such as the one before him superfluous, a necessary object to sell off at auction in order to eat. He'd be damned if he didn't enjoy this one, this night. After all, when was the next time he'd be invited to enjoy such a fine party?
"A fine painting, is it not, Mr. Wilkes?" Rhett Butler had appeared behind Ashley and spoke conversationally.
"Fine indeed," Ashley nodded. "Mr. Butler, how are you, sir?"
Rhett smiled, showing off a set of even white teeth, as if he wanted to savor this occasion. "You're holding up remarkably well for a man whose wife and dear sister-in-law have been abducted by the enemy and are being held as prisoners of war."
"They will not harm them," Ashley stated, a little more firmly than he had intended to be. He didn't want to offend Butler. No, that was the last thing he needed to do at the moment.
"I truly hope that is the case," Rhett replied, his smile fading somewhat. "After all, my own sister is in their ranks. Rosemary has always loved making a splash in any and all of her endeavors."
"Not unlike you, I presume," Ashley said rather smugly. "I take it from your fine clothing that the war has not depleted the Butler coffers overmuch?"
"As much as I'd love to be my family's representative voice, Mr. Wilkes, I cannot claim that I maintain such an office."
"I take it then, that you have yet to make peace with them?"
"You take it correctly, Mr. Wilkes. Or should I say Major, I must say, I read your write-up to pass the time from Richmond to here…two field commendations? Your own family must be very pleased indeed. Perhaps you'll become a career soldier, when this conflict is said and done?"
Ashley sensed an insult in Butler's statement, and flashed him a proud glare. "Certainly not. I hope never to pick up a weapon again after this war is over. I look forward to that day, in fact, I pray for its speedy coming daily."
"Again," Rhett said, looking amused, "you are being remarkably cavalier about this entire incident…I admire your fortitude, Major Wilkes. Your stoicism is something to which I myself may aspire."
Ashley let out a hollow laugh, "I fear that you will be disappointed then, Mr. Butler, for I find myself holding onto sanity by the barest of threads. And when I think of what might have befallen Melly and Scarlett and your sister I just…"
"Don't worry yourself, Ashley, we'll manage to get them out of this scrape. It may take time of course, and I'd like your help, if you're willing to pass the baton of fetching General Lee's skivvies to the next available underling…"
Ashley's face went red. "I can assure you that I do not -"
"It was a joke, Wilkes. Not a very funny one, and at your expense. I apologize for straying from the task at hand. Mrs. Wilkes, Scarlett and my sister."
"Mrs. Hamilton," Ashley corrected automatically.
"Say what?"
"Mrs. Hamilton. You are not Scarlett's family member nor her husband, so you must address her as Mrs. Charles Hamilton."
Again the sardonic smirk. "Indeed." He smiled slightly before saying again, "So, Ashley, might I depend upon your assistance when I travel to Washington? I'll need an aide-de-camp of sorts, you see, to help me uncover bits and pieces of unsavory information pertaining to our brave boys in blue…"
"You don't mean-"
"Spare me your Confederate pride, Ashley, you know well as I do the goings on of Federal juries. It'll take them weeks or months to decide what charges to bring and they don't have that. Three women unprotected in a jail is like throwing tender steaks in front of a starving man."
Ashley shuddered. "I don't particularly care for your analogy."
Rhett smiled wolfishly. "I take it you see my point, analogy or not?"
Ashley nodded. "We must help them. But my post -"
"Leave it."
"I cannot desert - Melly would never forgive -"
"Mrs. Wilkes may not be around to forgive you if you do not act, sir. And what about Wade Hampton? You realize, I hope, that your nephew is in my charge currently. Does his growing up without a mother mean anything to you? Particularly if his mother happens to be the woman for whom you've always held a torch?"
"I beg your -"
"Save your breath, Ashley. Just tell me you'll help me. For Scarlett and Mrs. Wilkes's sake."
Ashley took in a deep breath. "For their sakes, Butler. Not yours. Never yours."
Rhett nodded in agreement before letting out a small chuckle. "Never." He then leaned closer to Ashley's ear and whispered, "Meet me in the side garden at midnight. I'll have civilian clothes for you and we'll leave for Washington at dawn."
Ashley nodded in silent understanding, then watched as Rhett Butler slinked into the crowd, finally disappearing, like a fox into the night. Ashley cast one more desirous look at the painting, saying a silent prayer for his own protection, and fervently wishing that he was back home at Twelve Oaks.
