Chapter Fourteen

The hotel stood tall, six stories looming in the setting sun as Rhett escorted Scarlett into the restaurant. The multitude of windows reflected the sunset colors of the sky, making it look almost as though the building were ablaze.

"You know, I tried to rent rooms at the National, down the street," she said, smiling. "You remember, the place we stayed at while they were building our house, when we were newly married? But Ella heard about the elevator here – it's the first building in Atlanta to have one, you know – and nothing would do but that we should rent a floor here. I've never much cared for this place, though. There's just something about it..."

"Are you becoming fanciful in your old age, darling?" he asked, and she laughed.

"I don't think so. Maybe it's just that it's so ugly. Who paints a brick building yellow?"

"Hannibal Kimball does, evidently," he murmured. "Next time we want to have dinner out, I'll find a different venue, I promise," he said, pushing open the door of the building to lead her inside.

The dining room was spacious, and, with Scarlett's elegant guests filling the hotel, crowded as well. Rhett had little doubt that his table had been held, however; not only did money talk, but it had taken very little time for Rhett to realize that the snobbery of the high-born English guests had done nothing to endear them to the local citizens. The generous sum Scarlett paid in gratuities to the staff might have been enough to make them grit their teeth and bear it, but no one who worked for this hotel would be at all upset if something bad happened to any or all the foreigners here. They would be perfectly happy to see a good table, generously paid for by Cap'n Butler, with his perfect manners, go empty while the English guests milled around aimlessly, waiting for an available spot.

Proven correct in his assumptions, Rhett led Scarlett to where the Maitre d' indicated, although he already knew the location of the table. Hadn't he picked it out himself, after bribing the headwaiter to bring him in when the dining room was officially closed after lunch, so he could see the layout of the room? This table, half hidden behind a tall pillar and sheltered from its neighbors by thick foliage, was as secluded and private as one could get in a public dining room.

"Would you like some champagne, my dear?" he asked, as soon as they were seated. "There's a bottle that has chilled all afternoon."

"Why, Cap'n Butler, one might almost think you were celebrating," she said, smiling. He felt the old urge to retreat, slipping into his shell with a snap, like a turtle, but he refrained. He had no doubt that the time when he could make a humorously cynical comment about their relationship would come – Scarlett was no more prone to sentimental outbursts than he was – but not yet. First he had to show her his sincerity.

So he smiled back at her. "Celebrating implies a victory of some sort," he said, as the waiter poured the sparkling liquid into elegantly fluted glasses. "Let us say, rather that I find myself very pleased with my company this evening."

Scarlett lifted her glass and sipped at the liquid appreciatively. "Mmm, this is good," she murmured. "I haven't had champagne in years; Tony always -" She stopped, looking up at Rhett with a little guilty smile.

"It's all right. You can talk about him," Rhett said, sipping the bubbly liquid, watching her over the top of the glass.

"Tony always liked champagne. He called it one of life's finer pleasures, and ordered it on every possible occasion. I rather think that was in reaction to the years right after he left Georgia. He never went into details, but I gather that he saw some very lean times, although by the time I saw him again, he had become able to support himself, at least."

"What was he doing?" Rhett asked idly.

"He was a gambler," she said. Rhett smiled, remembering what Ashley had said about Tony Fontaine being a gentleman. Rhett had been to the frontier, had earned his living gambling in the gold fields of California, and if Tony had been successful in that type of place, Rhett was willing to bet that Mr Wilkes would be more than a little surprised at what his old friend had turned into.

He voiced this thought to Scarlett, and she agreed.

"Oh, yes, Tony had become something that would not have been in the least familiar to Ashley. He was never dangerous to me, but the violent possibilities I saw in his eyes before he recognized me were very real. And there came a time when I, and even the children, became involved in that, as well."

"Oh? That sounds like an interesting story. Would you care to share?"

"Well... it's basically the story of how we came to settle in England," she said.

"That makes it even more interesting," he said. "Pray continue, Mrs Fontaine."

Before she could, the water came to take the order for their food. "I arranged for some Cajun food - gumbo and jambalaya, if you'd like – but feel free to order something else, if you'd like," Rhett told her, smiling.

"That sounds perfect," she answered. "I haven't had any spicy food for a long time. The English just look at you if you ask them to put any flavorings beyond salt and pepper in their food, and the French want to cover everything in sauces. Not that they're not good, but -" she shrugged, "- what can I say? Cajun cooking was the first really spicy food I ever had, and I still have a fondness for it!"

"Then I'm glad I arranged for it to be available," he told her. He gave the order to the waiter, then turned back to her expectantly. "And now, the story of your emigration," he prompted.

"Well... I don't know if I told you, but Tony ran the gambling casino at The Beach Hotel. I gather that the plans to make it a fancy resort hotel have been achieved now, but back then, it was just the casino and a hotel in the process of being built. Tony managed half-a-dozen blackjack tables, three craps tables, a roulette wheel... and supervised the weekly high-stakes poker tournament. The poker was put on by the hotel, but the thing Tony liked about it, was that though he was there in his official capacity, he wasn't playing for the hotel. He used his own money, and kept his winnings. And there were almost always winnings. That game was where the trouble began."

"And what trouble would that be, my dear?" Rhett asked suavely. He poured himself a bit more champagne, but she shook her head when he wordlessly offered her some.

"Trouble with cheating. There were three men – Calvin Raye, Martin Schwann, and David Nelson. All of them claimed to be former Confederate officers, although Tony doubted it..."

"They say they were in the army, but I don't buy it , Scarlett," he told her. They were lying in bed together, their bodies warmly spooned; Tony was relaxed enough to talk to her in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

"Why not?" she asked, watching as the smoke from his cigar curled lazily towards the ceiling. Scarlett was pretty relaxed. "Because they don't know any of the right people," he said. "They've told me of the regiments they were supposedly in; one of them was my cousin Quintin's regiment, so I knew the name of some of the men and the officers. Another was right next to us, in the trenches outside of Petersburg, the last year, we played cards with them, got shot at with them, exchanged tall tales with them. And yet, for all the place they supposedly were, we can't muster up even one mutual acquaintance? No, it's not likely. If it were just one of them, maybe, but all three? No, I just don't believe it. If they were in the war at all, it would have been as one of the raiders, or the riff-raff that always follow the armies around, looking to find easy pickings in the tail. Not as regular soldiers."

"So what does it matter?" she asked, stretching sleepily beneath the light blanket that covered her.

"It matters because of their reason for lying about it," he said, stroking his hand down her side, making her squirm a little as he tickled her. "They want me to see them as friends and allies; they want me to trust them. And the one thing I've learned is that a man who deliberately sets out to earn your trust doesn't deserve it. He's out to cheat you, somehow, someway. I just need to keep an eye on them until I find out what their game is."

Scarlett rolled over and kissed him, taking her time about it. "I definitely think you should give them all the attention they deserve, my love," she told him. "But you're going to have to get up and go home soon, so the servants don't know you've stayed, and I feel like I need some more of your attention before you go. Do you mind?"

"Oh, not at all," he assured her, his hands already beginning to touch her in the ways she loved so well. "I will be glad when next month comes, though. We will be married, and I won't have to leave you any more."

"They were cheating at cards. At first, Tony only suspected it; they were careful, only winning just a little more than could be explained by sheer good luck. And even after he was certain it was happening, it was hard to figure out how they were doing it, because they were a lot more subtle than he would have guessed. They used different methods in different games; for instance, one week, they would use signals to tell each other when a card one of them needed was in someone else's hand. You'd be surprised at how much difference a small advantage like that makes, over time."

"I wouldn't," Rhett said, watching her. Scarlett had not, of course, related to him the details of where they were when Tony confided in her, but he understood from her tone and expression that by that time the relationship was very close.

Scarlett smiled. "No, of course you wouldn't. You probably invented some of the games they were playing!"

"True," he answered without heat. "But you might stop and consider where your husband was likely to have learned to recognize such ploys before you throw stones. There's a saying about how it takes one to know one."

Scarlett looked as if she might protest, then shrugged and laughed. "Touche'. Yes, it's probably true that Tony wasn't always as honest as he might have been in his card dealing, particularly if being honest meant going hungry..."

"Speaking of which, I believe that our food is here," Rhett said smoothly. "Shall we continue the tale after supper?"

"That was delicious," Scarlett said, setting her fork down. Rhett smiled at her. "It's good to see that you still have a healthy appetite," he said.

"So you haven't changed your mind about girls that eat like birds?" she asked, with a smile.

"No," he answered. "At the very least, it indicates someone who cares too much about the opinions of other people. At worst, it's someone who has taken the doctrine so much to heart that they couldn't eat a healthy meal if they tried."

"I don't care much for public opinion nowadays, except for not wanting to make a scandal that would hurt the girls, if they ever want to live here," Scarlett said lazily. "So I can't see myself bothering to worry about what some gossipy fools think about my appetite."

He smiled. "You always were a girl who was going to be much happier once you finally decided what you wanted, and how much you were willing to give up to get it," he said approvingly.

"True," she answered.

"So – how did your husband break up the gambling ring that was trying to cheat him?" Rhett asked.

"Well, like I said, it took him a long time to figure out what they were doing," Scarlett said. "Partly because they were cheating in so many subtle ways, and partly because they were using the waiters who served drinks at the games to pass information. Not just one or two of them, but all of them."

"Oh. Interesting," Rhett said, stroking his moustache.

"What would you think, if you found that out?" she asked, curiously.

He recognized that as a challenge, but he had played games in those kinds of waters for too long for it to be any great problem. "I'd look at their bosses, starting with the lowest, working up to the highest. Because if all the waiters are in on it, it's more than just a couple of gamblers bribing them, it's someone above them telling them: do this or else. So which boss was it?"

It turned out to be, oddly enough the rude cigar-smoking man on the beach who was helping the cheaters. Tony suspected that he was recruited early on; looking back it was obvious that he – his name was Andrew – had been angling to get into the job he was in, which made him the one who assigned the waiters to particular shifts and particular duties."

"So he was in a place to help the cheating." Rhett commented.

"Yes, and the more Tony found out, the more convinced he became that there was more to it. A leader, who was attempting to draw in a wealthy business men so that he could be fleeced. They were setting it up very carefully, but that was the basic goal. I'm not sure exactly how it would work, but the cheaters in the lower levels would make sure that the sheep – the one they wanted to fleece – advanced to the final round, and then the leader would use all of the tricks to make sure that he lost heavily. Tony thought it was personal hatred as well as greed that motivated them."

"Probably," Rhett agreed. "To a certain type of man, there's nothing so satisfying as leaving your enemy broken and helpless."

She nodded. "Well, Tony found out when it was going to be," she went on. "And he went all out to prevent it. He changed the room where the game was to be held, because they had used the mirrors to send coded information. He made sure the room they did use had no outside windows or gas lights, because they had been passing information that way. He supervised the decks of cards that they would use, and changed the table and chairs, because secret compartments had been added to the regular set. He arranged a counter-measure to every ploy, including, at the last minute, substituting his own choice for wait staff."

"So what happened?"

"When the leader, a man named Larry Fletcher, discovered what he had done, the dislike he had for his old enemy paled before his new hatred for Tony. He played anyway, played as if he still believed that he would win, but Tony was good, very good. He ended up winning everything that Larry Fletcher owned, including a ship that was currently docked in the harbor at Galveston."

Rhett shook his head. "I've never been able to understand people who gamble what they aren't willing to lose," he said. "I mean, I know it happens; I've seen it countless times, but I've never understood it at all."

Scarlett shook her head. "I never saw the pleasure of gambling at all, really. I mean, it's interesting, in a sense, but only as a – a contest. Earning a living at it involves, as my husband told me, spending a great deal of time inalcohol-fueled conversations with people you wouldn't have found interesting even if they were sober, waiting for them to make mistakes and then release you from the game so you can go home and try for a few hours of sleep. But that card game won Tony enough money that he'd never have to work again. We might not have gone to England, however, but for the fact that Larry Fletcher found out that he was wanted for murder. and reported him to the authorities."

"Unsporting, but predictable."

Scarlett nodded. "True. If Tony hadn't had friends who warned him so that we could slip aboard the ship and be gone before they could stop us, he might have ended up in prison. They might have even hung him!"

"And he took you with him?" Rhett's tone was mildly surprised.

"Well, at first he didn't want to. But I was uncertain when, or even if he would be able to return, and I was having none of that. It meant the wedding would have to be postponed indefinitely, and I didn't think that was at all a good idea. So I persuaded him to take me and the children with him."

"It would be interesting to know what method you used to persuade him," Rhett said.

Scarlett laughed. "Well, it was simple. I told him that I would be having his baby in six months, so I couldn't see waiting on the off-chance that he could get back in time to marry her before they were born."

So, what do you think? I know some of you (especially the ones who are already having trouble with the idea of Tony) would find it difficult to believe Scarlett would be intimate with a man outside of marriage. But given how alone they both were, and how hurt she was by her former life, I think it's at least plausible. Review and let me know if you agree or disagree, and either way, thanks for reading.

Special thanks to CocoB, who sent me a message about Scarlett's relationship with Ashley that has cleared up the problem I was having seeing how to end this. I've got it figured out now, and I think it will be great! So reviews and messages really do help! Should be a new chapter tonight or in the am!