NB: My dear readers, this chapter has gone through more revision/reworking than I care to disclose, but I hope that you find the result fulfilling. Yes, the NB is on top because this chapter contains SMUT. Now, younger readers/those who are not fans of smut, you can safely stop reading at the second section of italics, and not miss any plot at all. That being said, I think I can get by with leaving this story rated T(teen), just not the second set of italics in this chapter. Alright, happy reading! Love me some feedback! ~The Scarlett Starlet
Chapter 12: Memories
"What happened to you?" Mason asked Rhett from the doorway as the older man returned to their shared room in the boardinghouse. "I was only able to dance with Miss Melly twice before her father snatched her off and when I got back to the table you were gone." He paused as Rhett let out a loud sigh as he heaved himself onto the bed.
"Well, you might have said something. I looked like a proper fool sitting there waiting on you to come back. Even though all you've done this night is chew my ear off. And I'm still not sure as to my offense…you did see Scarlett, didn't you?"
"Sorry about the ear-chewing."
Mason shrugged. "Since I was supposed to be keeping you out of there, I guess I deserved it. I thought that by dancing with Miss Melly, I'd give you a little time in case you did manage to get a few words in with Scarlett alone."
"If you thought that was a possibility, you were dead wrong."
Mason stretched out on his own bed and yawned. "So, I take it we're leaving first thing tomorrow?"
"You can do what you like, but I am. The proprietress tells me that there is a steamship leaving tomorrow that can be to New York from here in a mere seventy-four hours, dock to dock."
"New York? Why the sudden urge to go there?"
Rhett shrugged his broad shoulders but did not meet Mason's eyes. The panic inside of him was very similar to that which he had felt fourteen years ago while waiting for the train to convey him from Jonesboro, horrified by what had transpired between Scarlett and himself and incensed that he had been taken in by her again. The woman was toxic, and the sole demon residing within his own personal hell.
His fear had been very real that night because he'd lost all of the ground that he had gained since leaving her in Atlanta, a mere two years before. He had a little more leeway now, over a decade after the fact, but clearly he was still not to be trusted where she was concerned. And he had clearly been on her territory. But as long as he vacated the premises as soon as possible, he still controlled the situation.
"Let me guess," Mason said next. "Scarlett confessed that her husband holds no charms for her and she wants to run off with you instead."
"Exactly."
"I was kidding. She hadn't seen you in such a long time, I doubt if she'd still find you attractive enough to elope with…her on the other hand, were she available, I would…"
"Will you shut up? And for your information, time is irrelevant if a woman has been connected with you for over half of her lifetime."
"I think that time is actually more relevant then," Mason stood up and marched over to the end of Rhett's bed and peered down at him. "For instance, let's just say that she still held a torch for you. Well, she's been married to Mr. Wilkes for, what? Help me out, Rhett. How soon after your divorce went through did she marry him?"
"Six weeks, give or take." Rhett's reply came out as more of a growl.
"Six weeks," Mason said triumphantly, "so that leads me to believe that she was able to forget about you rather quickly, if she met someone anew and married them within such a short time."
"If you must know, you impudent wretch," Rhett spat as he rose from the bed and began pacing around the room. "Scarlett was in love with Ashley long before I ever came into the picture. I thought that I could-well, it doesn't matter what I thought-suffice it to say that I didn't escape from that horrid situation all those years ago to become embroiled within it again. It was bad enough that you brought me here at all, and I'm still steaming over that. But seeing her…It would have been nice to know that she's tormenting him for all eternity."
Mason smirked. "But she's not?"
"So it would seem."
"Well, why did you divorce her then? You obviously care tremendously for her, even after all these years."
Rhett gave him a wry smile. "I suppose that I feel obligated to care, on some level. After all, the woman was married to me for a time."
"You didn't answer my question. Why divorce her and ruin her socially if you felt obligated to her?"
Rhett's face darkened. "Obligated because we made a verbal contract? She certainly didn't hold up her end of the bargain on that agreement. Not until the end, anyway. I didn't give a damn what she did then and I don't about what she does now. She can live out her merry days with Ashley Wilkes, I could care less-"
"But still-"
"No, by God, do not try to make me feel guilty for cutting ties with someone who had done every conceivable wrong to her husband and children and lived to lie about it. Besides, and there is no polite way of saying this, I hate Ashley Wilkes and the thought of her in bed with him every night makes me want to hurl my guts out. But recall this, Pierce Mason, before you judge me, I presented her with divorce papers. I did not force her to affix them with her signature. If she had not, maybe, just maybe, there might have been hope of an eventual reconciliation between us. Then, and only then, would I have been obligated to her. As it happened, she signed them the next day. And married goddamned Ashley six weeks later!"
"I'm beginning to understand."
Rhett rolled over onto his stomach and let out a heavy sigh before glancing up at Mason. He nodded, then said, "Thought you might. You see, Mason, a gentleman would have honored his wife above all else, through thick and thin and any indiscretion. If she displeased him beyond redemption, he might seek comfort in the arms of a mistress, but that's it. Which isn't to say that I wouldn't honor my wife with love, if I had possessed one worth loving. Ashley had one. Your Miss Melly's namesake. And yet, he couldn't be content with the gentle goodness of his own wife. No, he had to hover over mine."
"I thought that I understood you to say that she was doing the hovering, not him."
"His attempts to resist her were piss poor. But it doesn't matter now. I've seen them both one last time, and I've broken all of my old ties for good." Mason smirked. "Oh really? How is that? You know, you said that you'd done that the last time you saw Scarlett. Remember? We had been to the Jonesboro fair with Celeste and you were so drunk you couldn't stand up?"
"I actually told you that I'd seen her? Why didn't you mention it to me when I was sober?"
"Figured it was something that you didn't particularly want to talk about. Besides, you didn't speak to her that time. You just watched her playing with that little girl. Hey, you don't think that the little baby was Miss Melly do you? Ha! Damn, that makes me feel old."
"How astute you are," Rhett said sarcastically. "You know, you have an amazing lack of curiosity, my friend."
"l prefer to call it patience. The ladies all advise me that it is an admirable trait. But eventually, I always find out all that I desire to know. Even-" he said devilishly, "their most appalling secrets!"
Rhett's mouth formed a thin line. "You aren't seriously considering pursuing Melanie Wilkes, are you?"
"Do you care so much? I would think you'd be thrilled to death. Besides, I think we're about the same level, don't you think? My Ma was a whore and hers is a divorcee."
"There is a difference," Rhett muttered. "And you are a grown man and she is very much a child, even if she does belong to Scarlett and Ashley."
"I know that she likes me," Mason smiled. "And I'd be lying if I said that I didn't find her a fetching little piece. But Rhett, I think you're kidding yourself if you think that you can just walk away. You're involved now, whether you like it or not."
"Involved? Hell! I happened into a party at which she happened to be in attendance."
"And then you proceeded to dance with her in full view of her husband and daughter. You know, she's got to be thinking that you sought her out."
Rhett did know that, and the thought made his blood boil. The last thing that he wanted her to know was how pathetic his life was. Time had done enough of its work on his appearance, but apparently not as much as he'd thought it had. Although his body had definitely aged, his face hadn't altered drastically in fourteen years. Scarlett had to have recognized him even underneath the mask, or at least thought him familiar enough to unmask him herself. And then, she had just walked away, calmly and with her head held high. Good God, but he hadn't seen that one coming. She bore absolutely no resemblance to the pleading, broken woman he had left in Atlanta or the half-crazed wanton siren he had left at Tara. Who would have thought? Ashley Wilkes had managed to do what Rhett, with all his grace and charm, could not: turn Scarlett O'Hara into a proper lady.
"I can't go anywhere near her, Mason. She's a disease which has no cure."
"So, you obviously don't still feel any sort of obligation?"
"No, not a single one. She has Ashley, remember. Her knight in shining armor. Well, and her older children. She managed to barter them to improve her own social situation."
"That's ridiculous, Rhett, and you know it. The girl debuted my senior year of college. She was the belle of Atlanta, for all that she wasn't there a whole season. Joe Fontaine could have had any girl in the state, but he went after her before I could even say hello-not that any of those girls wanted to exchange pleasantries with a fellow named Watling-and then there's Wade. He's decent, despite his current tide of disapproval over my friendship with his little sister. But he makes his own choices, Rhett. Rhett, what are you thinking, you look like you're in a trance. Rhett?"
Ashley grabbed the child in his arms and hugged and kissed her with all of his might.
"Set me down, Papa! Down!" she squealed with feigned horror and sheer delight.
"Yes ma'am, your wish is my command," he sat her down with a kiss on each cheek.
The child was even more beautiful up close than Rhett had first thought. Laughing up into Ashley's face, her eyes were sparkling with pleasure and adoration. Rhett knew that look. He had committed it to memory and then locked it away safely within the folds of his mind, for he would never experience it again for himself.
A sudden wave of electricity fell over Rhett as Scarlett appeared from behind Ashley. With a flash of bright lips and flushed cheeks that contrasted starkly with her creamy white skin and black velvet gown, she too rushed over to pet the child. Talking rapidly, she took the little girl's hand in her own, and reached for Ashley's arm with her free hand.
"Hasn't she seen everything, Ashley? We have only a few hours before Wade's train leaves and I want to walk around Tara before we leave."
"Of course, my dear," Ashley replied resonantly.
And Rhett watched as Ashley Wilkes lead his wife and child away…the wife and child that could have been his own…
Scarlett had gone directly home and locked herself in her room. She had thought about waking Mammy up, but she was in such a state that she feared that she might unintentionally lash out at the old woman. Besides, she didn't want either Ashley or Melly to see her like this. She was beyond enraged, trembling with so much emotion that she couldn't even sit down. Her worst nightmare was back, now when Melly was so close to adulthood and Ashley so close to…oh she couldn't bear to think of that.
But his appearance had not been a dream. He had danced with her, spoken to her, held her in his arms, and probably laughed at her from behind that damned mask. Fourteen years since she'd last seen him, and for all that he had aged, he hadn't even changed at all. The proof was in the way he had spoken so contemptibly about Ashley. If he only knew! If he only could have seen Ashley holding her hair for her as she vomited into a basin, or seen him stand vigil at her bedside as she almost died giving birth to another man's child. If he only knew that Ashley had begged her to reach out to her estranged husband when she discovered that she was carrying Rhett's child, unwillingly given; but Ashley had understood her pride, her refusal to share with Rhett what he had spurned. He had married her to give the baby a name and a father, but had expected nothing from Scarlett in return. If he only knew how sick Ashley was…
But Scarlett had changed. She no longer allowed her temper to reign supreme. She hadn't tried to scratch Rhett's eyes out, no, she'd run away from him instead. But yet, her anger would not abate. Was he here in Fernandina with that horrid boy to try to lure Melly away from her? Surely not, she reassured herself, no one knows except Ashley and me and Mammy and maybe Ella. Wade hasn't a clue and Beau even less. But Melly knows him now! He'd already met her at least twice before; surely he had to see the resemblance!
Why should she be the least bit surprised? Worse, how could she ever have been attracted to him? She was disgusted with herself for the mistake. She should have been able to see him instantly for who he was, and yet, she had been a pathetic, desperate housewife, overeager for a dance with a strapping man. He'd always looked down on those sorts of ladies and had let her know it in the past. God's nightgown, but the memories were flying at her. She had thought that she'd put all of that behind her, never again to think about those horrible days. And she hadn't, not in fourteen years…then again, Rhett Butler had never been around to remind her…
Scarlett was already edging around him toward the door, ready to bolt for it if he moved an inch. He was drunk and angry already; there was no telling what he would do next. Then, she noticed a smirk on his lips. The bastard had frightened her deliberately, as well as made a mockery of her in front of Will and Suellen! The fury that consumed her was greater than any she had felt as she had lunged for him on the staircase. Unable to control herself, she bolted for the door, stupidly putting herself within his reach. She ended up on the bed, facedown, with his heavy weight atop her.
"Let me up this instant!"
"Not so fast, Mrs. Butler. I quite prefer you this way. Tamed."
She struggled for several minutes in earnest, but he was holding her wrists tightly, binding her between him and the bed.
He leaned close to her ear and whispered provocatively, "Well, Mrs. Butler? Shall we take our quarrel to a new level?"
"You're despicable! You have no decency, none! No gentleman would be holding me down like this-let me go, you filth! Let me loose!"
But her statement lacked heat, possibly because his suggestion had ignited her own powerful conflicting emotions. One, she still wanted him, albeit on her own terms. Scarlett O'Hara had never failed to get the man she wanted, but she had waved a white flag of surrender in his case. And here he came, two years too late, slinking in like a cat in the dark…She hated him!
"If you're facing this way, you won't have to even look at me. You can pretend that it's Ashley making love to you rather than your brute of a husband. Of course, Scarlett, we both know that deep down, he could never satisfy your more-primal-needs."
At that she bucked, and caught him off guard. Sliding halfway off of her, he was forced to release one of her arms. She rolled onto her side and rammed her elbow in the direction of his bare chest, but he gripped her other arm firmly and pulled her back. She fell backwards and landed on top of him, and immediately he wrapped his arms tightly around her, crossing her own arm over her belly. Shamefully, she took some pleasure at this display of his strength…but she wasn't helpless in the new position. She struck his shin hard with the heel of her shoe, and the back of her head hit him hard in the jaw. With a low growl of pleasure, he moved her so that she lay underneath him again, but she was able to grab a fistful of his hair. She had ambitions of yanking out every single strand, and would have gladly tried to do so if she had not inadvertently pulled his head toward hers.
She felt the anger melt away as their lips met. It transferred instead into something-what had he called it-primitive? It was out of Scarlett's control. The passion rose, rose, and rose…
His grip tightened on her, and his hands found her breasts and freed them from the constraining bodice of her gown, laying claim to her lips then moving downward. She could feel a hard pressure within her core, built up over two long years of wanting him but being denied. He dragged her skirt up to her thighs and pressed hard there as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel his hands traveling beneath her underclothes as the delicious sensation of skin on skin nearly made her scream in pure, unadulterated ecstasy. He rose and pulled her onto his lap, allowing her to position herself atop him, lowering herself until he was deep inside. Up and down he guided her back and forth in the age-old rhythm, her nails digging deep into his shoulders.
"Jesus, Scarlett!" he moaned, "How is it that you drive a man so wild?"
She felt herself shudder, again and again, in pleasure and in pain and he let out a satisfied cry as he came within her. Then, as fast as it began, it ended, and he suddenly shot off the bed and exited the room in all his naked glory, leaving her as dazed and confused as she had been the night of Ashley's birthday party…
