Once again thank you for the support! (And thank you to the lovely guest who gave me the reference of Clarice when talking about Fenton).
I hope you will enjoy it!
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Chapter 22
There was a whole uproar that day in the Butler's house. Employees were running swiftly, hoping not to get in the way of the mistress, who was briskly shouting orders, berating them when her sharp eyes noticed something she did not like.
"Here! Come on, come on! We don't have much time for that! Charlie, put down that chandelier here, it will be most fitting. Ryan, what are you waiting for? Hurry, hurry! Oh, no Prissy, not in there! And what are you doing here, by the way? Why aren't you with the children?"
"Patrick is wit dem, Miz Scarlett."
"Then go join them!" She replied, exasperated, before turning back to the sound of silver falling on the floor. "No, Ryan, no!"
"Now, darling, stop ordering around these poor fellows," Rhett's amused voice raised in the room, making Scarlett froze. "I think they know what they're doing."
She turned towards her husband, pouting.
"But, Rhett…"
"Now, don't you look at me like that, my dear. I know you're quite in a fuzzy, but I think there's a more important matter I want to discuss with you."
She winced. It had been the second time this day he had said that kind of things, and the first time, she had thought he was about to tell her of his undying love and said he was going to stay with her.
But no. It wasn't even an important matter actually, more like some trivial thing about what he should bring for some carnival of Venice or anything. No matter which Venice. As if she had grown overnight an expert at such things!
He had talked a lot about traveling these days, and this morning, France and Italy had been on his mind notably, and she couldn't count the numbers of magazines on it that he had left all around the place.
Certainly, he did not think of leaving her? Them?
She wanted to believe he didn't, but the fear was still there, and she did not dare to say anything about it. And somehow, it seemed to disappoint him. He didn't really think she'd be happy that he thought of leaving, did he?
Did he want her to beg for him to stay? Not even in his life! She had already begged too many times.
But then what? There was a thing he wanted her to say, she knew that. She could feel it. But what? This was the mystery, and she felt frustrated by it. And these talks about the wonders of the French capital, the fashion and delicacies were not ones to put her at ease, especially when she could see how tempting it was.
Why, she had never left America, and, if there weren't these miserable visits in Charleston and one time she went to Saratoga as a young girl, she could say she had never really left her native Georgia. How unfair to be a woman and not to be allowed to travel as a man would!
She was jealous of it. Jealous but also very much afraid. She knew her husband. If he wanted to leave, he would most certainly.
Or maybe if she was the one to bring divorce up? Maybe it would force him to admit his feelings and stay?
The idea was in her mind, and though tempting, she dismissed it. For now. She would only use it in the last resort, she decided.
She heard Ryan's clumsy steps and scowled.
"No, Ryan, don't put the box there! I told you you had to put it on the oak table, besides the little porcelain angels!"
Rhett turned toward the poor lad and seemed to notice what he was holding. He froze, his gaze questioning on his wife.
"Your jewelry box, my p… my dear?" He asked, surprised. "By God, you are committed! Even your jewels?"
She rolled her eyes, impatient.
"Fiddle-dee-dee! My jewels! Of course, not. Just the box. And a little surprise inside, if they found a way to open it."
She had emptied it cautiously, and put in there the contracts Aren had procured her this morning, with the seal of the English Lord falsified in it with thoroughness, so much that it all seemed true. She had added in her vanity one about the ownership of the orphanage, hoping whoever found it when it was time linked the two actions more easily. Oh, it was sure to work, she thought with satisfaction as she had locked it and kept the key.
Rhett laughed.
"Now, my dear, seeing that glint in your eyes, I fear for the poor lady or fellow. No doubt, you might have put a real snake in it."
She batted her lashes. "How you do run on, Rhett! Of course not a snake."
"Not a snake, then. What, then?"
She smiled teasingly. "That's a surprise, dear husband."
And one you might actually like when it is revealed, she thought with satisfaction. For sure, when he'd learn about what she was ready to do when her family was threatened, he'd be impressed.
"Miz…"
She rolled her eyes, turning toward the servant that was calling her.
"What now, Prissy?"
"Miz Ella want see you, Miz Scarlett."
She sighed, but secretly grateful at this intervention, if only it meant she wouldn't have to hear Rhett talk about the wonders of the world when she wanted him to see he'd gain more at staying.
She joined Ella in the nursery, the little girl pouting in front of her mirror while Patrick, that big Scottish giant, didn't seem to know what to do. She dismissed him with a smile, asking him to join Wade.
"What's going on, sweetheart?" She said as she knelt before her. "You know Mama is busy… Why aren't you outside, preparing the games with Wade and Caroline? You know there'll be other children coming, and it'd be a shame if everything wasn't."
Her boy had taken his role quite seriously, and had taken the girl with him (though it seemed she would have followed him anywhere, and Scarlett wondered if something might have happened during the night for her to seek even more closely Wade's presence), but Ella did not seem to take interest in it. Instead, she had turned into Prissy and Patrick's nightmare by her indecision on what to wear for the day. Billy for a moment had seemed to want to leave his room, hearing her cries, but then as he saw her mother, he had turned back to it.
Well, it was better like that. She preferred him out of that damned peacock's way.
The girl stared at her with determination, though her lower lip trembled a little.
"Mama… I want you to wear that necklace. It's too big for me."
"Ella?"
With a swift move, Scarlett's daughter put it on her palm and mouthed a teary "please." Her mother paused, staring at the heavy object.
"Have you talked about Uncle Rhett of that necklace?"
She lowered her eyes, ashamed. "No… Oh, I'm a bad girl, am I not?"
"Oh no, Ella, no…" Scarlett tried to soothe her.
"It's just… I wanted it to be my secret, my own. And it looked like something secret. But then… I don't want my lord Fenton to think I'm ungrateful and don't like it. So could you wear it for me?"
She pondered the question, conflicted. What if Rhett recognized it and wondered?
"Please, mama?"
She looked at her child, so innocent and sweet, despite her not being a great beauty. Poor girl, she had the features of her father, despite the eyes that came from her. And there was a little roughness on her face that was hers alone, or maybe Scarlett's fault, she didn't know. Yet, she loved her, her little girl, and she didn't want to disappoint her, for she knew she had already disappointed her so many times before.
"… Alright, sweetheart, I will. But only this once."
Let him wonder, she thought. Maybe it would make him react, and he wouldn't think of leaving.
"Thank you!"
To her surprise, Ella jumped into her arms, and Scarlett almost fell on her back, before embracing her back. Yes, she would do so, she thought as she kissed that sweet head with these curly ginger hairs.
She took the necklace and looked at it. For sure, she had been right when she thought it was no little girl's necklace, and he had seemed to confirm her morbid suspicion. Yes, it was very much a choker, with a silver-plated lace and what looked like little rubies and pearls. She put it on her neck, and it gave her a nagging feeling of oppression, like she wasn't supposed to be the one wearing it.
Agitated, she changed into a lilac dress to lighten up her mood. She didn't want to wear black today. After all, there was hope, and she had been in the dark for too long. Lilac was a good color, and would be accepted.
And lilac had always been Melly's favorite color.
Squaring her shoulders, she checked the details of the final preparations, then she joined Rhett's side. His eyes widened at seeing her change of clothes, but it seemed to please him. Though, one sight made him pause.
"Funny. I think I have seen that necklace once. But where have I seen it?"
She batted her lashes, hoping he would not see the unease of her stance.
"Darling, you've offered me so many jewels, of course you at least saw them once."
He raised an eyebrow at that, then shrugged.
"It must have been one of the many times I couldn't say no to you, darling. It is not to my taste."
And not to mine either. Yet, she could not tell him it was the gift of another man for her daughter, and she felt bound to wear it because of her. She doubted he would believe it and she certainly did not want to spoil the day for them when they were still on a bumpy road in their relationship.
Mrs. Meade was the first one to arrive, and when they greeted her, there was a coldness in her, in particular toward Rhett who she barely looked at. Scarlett felt guilty over it, knowing her part in that attitude, despite her dismissal of that rumor. Yet, how could she have known? Only to Todd and his accomplices, she had implied some mistreatment, hoping it would make them more lenient toward her, in a time when she thought they might attack her. To Mrs. Meade, nothing. She didn't know where she could have had that impression, though here again, she had been able to use it for that irritating affair of sleeping draughts.
It came to her once that maybe it had to do with her miscarriage years earlier, and that doctor Meade may have implied she had been pushed down the stairs, but she dismissed it. Great balls of fire, how could they think he had been the one to push her?
He had always hurt her with his words, not with his physical strength.
To Scarlett, the old crow offered a pitying glance, with a warm shake of the hand. Confused, Rhett froze, before a nonchalant expression came to his face. Yet, now she could see it had troubled him, him who was so sure of their acceptance after everything he had done for Bonnie.
She saw him shove his fists in his pocket in frustration and felt for him. Without thinking, she put her hand softly on his wrist, before slipping under the fabric to join his hand. He jumped, surprised, before staring at her.
"My hand is cold," She said softly, a weak explanation to a gesture she had not thought of.
"Cold?" He raised an eyebrow at her, though his fist left the pocket, opened and held her fingers in a tight grip. "Why, yes, yes. It is."
It was a lie. But at least a lie that contented them both. At least him, she thought. She felt she was the kind of woman who, when she loved, wanted others to see it, to claim the man before all. Yet, she could see the use of maintaining the situation as it was, if only it would preserve him.
To the others, it might appear as a simple gesture of amiability to keep the appearance. But to her, it was a sign they were united against them all, even if they did not speak about it.
She felt strong with him by her side. They were united, it was them against the world, with their smiles and their charms as their weapons. Together, they could be unstoppable, and they were barely having a taste of it.
They welcomed most of their visitors together, and it was also together they put them at ease, both of them satisfyingly complementary in their roles, more harmonious than they had been since the beginning of their marriage, as they praised the furniture and presented the organization of the auction. Suspicious glances were thrown at them, but somehow, Scarlett thought they were able to find strength in each other to deal with it.
Yet, that did not mean she liked the charming way he talked to the other younger women, even if some of his gestures were correct like being very considerate to Maybelle Picard when that one apologized profusely for bringing her baby of a few months with her, the nurse being sick and could not intend him.
Well, if I had stopped to that, she thought, it would have been alright. But then there were little jokes, little allusions to literary she did not like one bit, knowing she couldn't join it.
She turned away from the scene, then froze.
Suellen was there, smug as a cat having eaten the mouse. Her greedy eyes were scrutinizing every furniture with envy, and Scarlett could see she was counting how much she could spend, and how it could spite her sister, from the mean little smile on her face.
"Suellen?" Scarlett asked, dumbfounded, then walked toward her younger sister. "What are you doing here?"
Why wasn't she back in Tara? Certainly, she hadn't just sent them something to call them to Atlanta, informing them of the sale of the house like that? She scowled. But Suellen didn't seem to care.
"Why, it seems I have a comfortable amount of money I can spend, and I told myself, why not see my dearest sister, who seemed in the need to get rid of some of her luxurious furniture? So tell me, sister, you certainly don't think people believe you when you say it's for a good cause?"
"And I suppose you're here to be the better person," Scarlett retorted, more than a little piqued by it. "Which is quite surprising, for it would mean you are actually good for something."
"Well, better than you, that's an easy thing to do. Better sister, better wife, better mother… My, it's not surprising your children are scared of you. Thank God Bonnie at least…"
She saw red.
"Get out," she hissed. "Get out, you spiteful, ungrateful wench. I am ashamed of you, just like Pa and Ma are too. Yes, shame on you, Suellen. I had almost felt guilty at thinking the worse of you, but you always proved me right by each turn. Tattletale, traitor, murderess…"
In her fury, she did not realize the terrific expression she had in her face, making Suellen grow pale and shaking. Yet, she tried not to show it, wanting to make it seem like she had the upper hand.
"It doesn't matter. There's nothing of taste here. I should have known. You just have to see your engagement ring to see it!"
"Nothing of taste, maybe. But you seemed to like it very much, from the way you eyed it. So I wonder at your taste."
Her sister huffed, then turned to leave.
Well, it did not matter. It was done, and she was gone, and the auction would continue just like it was supposed to be.
Yet, when she saw her back, she felt some regrets over these words. But it was too late. And she had other things to do. She tried to continue entertaining, but then her heart wasn't in it anymore. Meeting Rhett's concerned gaze, she nodded towards him in reassurance, but sat in a corner for a moment. She looked at her rings, and in particular at the engagement ring, the big emeralds and diamond glaring at her as she let it go from her finger and touched it, remembering the day Rhett had proposed. She had always known it was too big, indecent. And yet, completely distasteful? In the feelings she had during that fateful proposal, she could not stop herself from liking it nonetheless.
"My lady…"
She jumped, letting the ring fall from her hand in surprise. Todd. What was he doing here?
He knelt before her to take the ring and looked at it, before handing it to her. Taking it back, she suddenly realized how it looked like.
There were whispers, and eyes on them both, but that wasn't the worse.
Rhett was glaring at them.
"Get up. Now." She hissed.
Todd blinked.
"Oh. Well, yes. Yes."
He bowed one last time with an apologizing glance her way, but she dismissed him. In the end, she might never know what he was going to say. All she knew was that his presence alone had been a disturbance in her day, more than Suellen's intervention had been.
On the other way, Richard, who had just arrived, was looking at her with a new appreciation, as if something in his possession had gained even more value.
She huffed and as Hugh declared the auction open, she joined Rhett's side, hoping that little scene between her and Todd had not made him doubt her.
For shame, it would be one thing for him to get jealous of Richard, especially when it seemed he made a game out of it, and it would be only the snake biting his tail, but of Todd? That beat it all!
Yet he said nothing when she stood by his side, barely seeming to notice when she put a hand on the crook of his arm. They stared at the people taking their seats, and the first sales being held, half enthusiastically. Scarlett frowned.
"They're not bidding very much."
"I think, my dear, that some of them have a good taste," She scowled at that obvious barb. "but most of them came because they don't like us, and they wanted to buy something we might care about, just to spite us. Unfortunately, they see how it doesn't have any effect on us. And what a deception, despite a promising beginning with that little scene with your dear Todd…"
"He's not my dear Todd!" She protested. "He's neither mine nor dear!"
He grinned mischievously. "Well, the thing is, there's not another scandal to be seen."
He paused, then his eyes widened. "Another scandal… Yes…"
He turned towards her suddenly, putting his hands on her shoulders, his eyes hard and waiting on her.
"I have an idea," He said. "Give me your betrothal ring."
An idea, maybe. But she wasn't sure she was going to like it, from the expression on his face.
"Rhett…"
"Trust me."
At these words, she let her ring slip from her fingers and handed it to him. He released her and took it. He looked at the ring thoughtfully, then let out a sharp, short laugh as he threw and caught back the precious little object. She gasped, almost jumping to get it, her heart letting a painful pang.
"Rhett, you're certainly not going to…"
There was a glint of malice in his black orbs as he stared back at her.
"Not me, my dear. You."
He took her hand in his softly, his eyes expectant.
"It just makes me think of a memory of us, don't you remember? When you valiantly gave out your wedding ring for the Cause," He put the ring back in her hand, his eyes twinkling darkly. "Play along, Scarlett! Didn't you say your engagement was true?"
Their eyes met for a duel, his daring her to shoot first. She huffed and took the bait.
She froze before joining her manager, squaring her shoulders as she did so. She handed the betrothal ring to Hugh, her eyes blazing in a posture of high dignity as she explained it to him.
When she returned to Rhett's side, she was glaring. He chuckled, leaning in to whisper to her
"Make sure you look your most outraged, darling. It will make them pay even more."
Hugh cleared his throat, ill-at-ease.
"Here, as a surprise, another object. An engagement ring, possession of the lady of the house in sign of her engagement…"
There were whispers at the announcement. Then it began with an uproar.
There it was.
"One hundred and fifty dollars!"
"One hundred and sixty!"
"And eighty!"
"Two hundred!"
"Two hundred and fifty-six!"
"That's oddly specific," Rhett commented while she fumed. "Oh, don't pout, Scarlett. You still have your wedding ring."
"And now that makes me want to put it in the auction as well."
"You won't do that," He said quietly after some time.
"Don't tempt me." She snapped. "That's a very unfair trick you played, Rhett!"
"Five hundred and twenty!"
"Five hundred and twenty-five!"
"One thousand dollars."
She froze, her heart stopping for a time.
Richard. Of course. He had already bought her jewelry box. Now he wanted to buy the symbol of her union to Rhett.
At her side, Rhett was frowning.
"That's a little more than three times the price bought it."
She turned towards him, baffled, but he only offered her a smirk she immediately wanted to erase, to the point that she did not pay attention to the alertness in his eyes.
"What?"
"See, darling, when I bought it, I was very much ruffled by your reasons for marrying me, and I wanted to know if you would distinguish what is true to what is not. I had bought another that thought might suit you better, but then I wanted to give it only to you if you guessed it right. You wanted a ring with a big stone, you see…"
"So you mean to tell me you bought me a ring with a fake stone just to prove a point?"
"Scarlett…"
She jumped out of his reach, offended.
"No. Don't talk to me. I can't even look at you right now. I'm sure you have your own, dubious reasons, but I don't want to hear them. I have enough. Enough."
She settled on the couch and looked at the rest of the auction in silence. Without surprise, Richard bought the jewelry box, though she saw it hadn't been without some bids from members of the Old Guard or even India, who certainly did so to spite her and because of envy.
When it was over, Richard came swiftly to her and handed her the ring back discreetly, his eyes gleaming with malice.
"I return to you what has certainly been one precious gift," He bowed mockingly before her with a smirk. "And now the symbol of another bond… As is another at your neck," He added quietly, as if troubled.
She felt strangely touched by the gesture, despite knowing who the man was.
"I thank you, my lord. You are most thoughtful."
He took a step back as Rhett joined them and sat by her side.
"How… gentlemanly of you, Richard."
"I aim to please."
"That's obvious."
The smile was pleasant, the eyes blank, and yet, there was a possessiveness in the way he gripped her hand, so much that she feared there would be a bloody mark on her palm. Angrily, she stepped on his foot in warning, but he did not even seem to notice it.
When Richard left, he released her. She huffed and turned away. But then at that moment, she heard a baby's cry, and Maybelle holding it, visibly searching who she may ask to care it, her husband being nowhere in sight. Then, her eyes met Scarlett's, and there came a strange determination in her eyes as she walked in her direction.
Little did Scarlett know Maybelle had argued some times with her own mother about her subject, and, taken with the fancy of taking her under her wing, had thought it her duty to prove her wrong. Thus why now she had decided to do her next actions.
"Would you mind, Scarlett dear, to hold him a moment? I need to go…"
With the unease in her face, it was obvious what kind of need she was talking about.
Scarlett nodded absent-mindedly and took the baby in her arms, a strange emotion coming over her.
The last baby she had hold was Bonnie. Little, precious Bonnie. But even then, Rhett had always been the one who took her from her arms, and she had let him, thinking it wasn't so bad. But now she regretted it. If only she had known how little time she would have…
"Scarlett…" She heard the soft, pained whisper of her husband at her side.
She shook her head.
"No, Rhett… Don't say anything. Please."
She cooed a little at the baby, looking into its black eyes, and wondering how it would feel, if it was her and Rhett's child now in her arms. Oh, before she had not been able to appreciate it, unable even to see how lucky she was. But now…
Oh, a child with him. How wonderful it would be.
Would he be ready to risk his heart again? It already seemed difficult for him to risk his heart for her… and yet, she so wished…
Oh ridiculous, she thought. She had never wanted children. The only child she had wanted to bear the pregnancy with enthusiasm had been the one who did not survive.
How foolish of her to wish for a child at a time when nothing was sure.
And yet, maybe because of that, she wanted it even more.
Soon enough, Maybelle came back, and seemed satisfied with what she saw.
The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly, or maybe it seemed to pass swiftly because she was able to drink more than she had in the last months. She wanted to erase that pain, that doubt in her heart. But it seemed even the numbness of her body couldn't make it go away.
Once they were all gone, she looked at the half-emptied rooms and sighed. This had been done, at least.
The Mausoleum. The dollhouse, as he had called it. It was like a blank space she had to fill once again, to make it this time a home, and yet with the events of the day, she now didn't know if she truly wanted to.
Dinner was calm, but at least she was satisfied to see that even Billy had accepted to join them, though wary he still seemed to be. He gulped it down quickly, his alert eyes looking at the others warily, as if they might take it from him. But he seemed to soften when Ella laughed beside him, commenting on his ways. He even said a few words, encouraged by the easiness of her manners. Scarlett did not quite catch it, but it warmed her heart to see how gentle her children could be.
Then came the time for the story, and she let Ella and Wade recall the other events, weary of the day, of the emotions that had filled it. When they were finished, they raised expectant eyes on her and she nodded. They might have noticed her melancholy, for then they seemed calmer, and softer.
She shook her head. Great balls of fire, she thought. They were children! Certainly, they might had no idea of what was going on!
The idea was comforting, but it did not stay long in her mind. She sighed, her hands joined as if for a prayer. Her eyes met Rhett's, and she felt a hard grip on her heart, making her remember all the misunderstandings they had.
"Yes, Solene very much wanted Mary to have flaws, for it would have meant she was human like her, and it would have prevented her from feeling so ashamed by her own selfishness and fears."
"Oh, but she wasn't selfish!" Ella protested. "She cares for Mary! And she cares for Robert too!"
"She does. But caring for the people that are close to her can also be a little selfish."
"How so?" The girl asked, cocking her head in confusion.
"Sometimes, Ella," Rhett intervened, seeing her unease. "When you care too much about people, you think more of yourself than of their own wishes. You think of what you might feel in their place, forgetting they might feel it differently."
"And that can lead you to do things in their place, isn't it?" Wade asked.
"Very much so," Scarlett nodded. "But there was another thing. Mary had talked about her wish for a family, and her wish for love. And all these talks made her miss a certain pirate more than she should have. She knew the peacock had talked about love, and she herself had wanted to deny it. But now…"
"I knew it!" Ella cried. "She is really in love with him!"
Scarlett paused, hesitating, and feeling her husband tension without even looking at him.
"Yes, she was," She replied quietly. "And there, she saw it, and Mary noticed that, and tried to encourage her. Yet, Solene knew she had only half a heart to give, half that she had almost given to another before for the dream he seemed to offer her. And the pirate was gone now, and she wasn't sure if she would ever see him again."
"I'm sure he'll find her again," Wade said confidently. "Don't you think, Uncle Rhett?"
She barely raised her eyes on him, though she knew he had observed her all the way.
"I do believe so, Wade," He said softly.
She nodded, thinking about it, then continued. "Still, she didn't know it. Yet, with Mary's encouragement… They decided they might try to find him. And then at night came the peacock and he saw her trouble and became very insistent. Taking advantage of Mary's absence, for she had decided to search for wood, he said:
"'Here, Solene, let me tell you the story of the bitter couple, for I feel you will need it. There were once a man and a woman who had married each other. They loved each other very much, but terrible events had happened to them, and it led them to be wary of the world, but mostly of each other. Because of that, they had never told the other they loved them, persuaded as they were that it wasn't reciprocated."
"Then why had they married each other if it was so?" Wade asked, surprised.
Rhett seemed about to reply, but she was faster. "Because they hoped it would change. Yet they were not open enough to make it change. And the days passed, and many things happened. And as nothing changed, suspicions came, and they did not dare to talk about it."
"But certainly, if they loved each other, they should have trusted each other?" Ella blinked, confused.
She smiled sadly. "No, my sweet. One can love someone, but that doesn't mean they trust them. And for them, the more time passed, the more impossible it seemed to resolve it. And yet, they still loved and loved. But that love, instead of making them happy, made them bitter and wary."
"Yet, it's not an unsolvable story, my dear," Rhett said softly.
She raised her eyes on him, hope mixing with doubt in her mind.
"No, it is not, I suppose," She admitted finally. "But when the peacock told their story, it seemed so. Each of them thought 'At least, my heart is safe, because they don't know I care'. And yet… They were not safe. Solene protested and, alerted by her cries, Mary came at her side. Yet it did not appease her, and somehow, she felt as if her heart was about to explode in her chest. Something… had been lit in her, and she didn't know what. Surprised by that new feeling, and the realization that indeed she loved Robert, she took the emerald from her bag and threw it on the floor…"
"Oh, but she will disappear if she does so!" Ella reacted, upset.
Scarlett shook her head. "No, my sweet, she will not. But instead, a deep smoke enveloped her and she ran and ran, until she felt nothing but her aching feet."
"But she will return, won't she?" Ella relented.
"She will," Her mother replied. "But she needs time…"
"But… She let Mary!" Wade protested, taken aback. "How could she have done it?"
"She was afraid," Another voice answer timidly, and they all froze, surprised. "It was all too much and…"
Billy raised his head, suddenly realizing they were watching him, then he left his place and ran out of the room, his eyes shining like those of a hunted animal. Without thinking, Ella called after him and followed him. Besides Wade, Caroline was shaking.
This brought Scarlett out of her melancholy, and she thought it was her alone that had brought all this mess and felt ashamed by it.
"Wade," She said with a weak voice. "It's time to go to bed. I fear it had been too much… Tomorrow… Yes, tomorrow it'll be happier. I promise."
He nodded towards her and led Caroline to the nursery.
"Scarlett…"
She stiffened, then shook her head. "I need something to eat. And…" She looked at Rhett and shrugged wearily "whatever. I need some time…"
That being said, she left the room and took refuge in her chambers for a time. The tears came to her as she looked at herself in the mirror. She let the tears flowed until her eyes could not give them others. Yet, these were not sad tears. These were angry, frustrated tears, and once it was done, she felt filled with an energy that pushed her out of her room, wanting to face someone on that battlefield they had created.
She took the way back to the study and paused as she saw he was still there, waiting, his eyes alert on her as if she were a cat he wanted to tame.
"Oh," She said. "You're still here."
"Where else could I be?" He took her in and blinked, as if unsure how to begin. "I think you're a bit tipsy, my dear. And maybe a little depressed."
"Go to hell, Rhett," She mumbled as she took a glass from the water jug on the table and drank from it.
"Are you angry?"
"Am I?" She looked at him strangely, wondering if he might have gone mad. Or simply stupid. Trying to gather her wits, she put down her glass and stared at him coldly. "Do you expect me to be happy?"
His smile stretched, but his eyes were wary.
"Oh, darling, surely, you're not offended about…"
Now, that was too much.
"Of course I am offended! I am humiliated! It's just another one of your jokes or little revenge that are funny only to you, and then I'm sure even to you it has a bitter taste! … like when you advised me to call the store 'Caveat Emporium'! There was… There was… oh, all the people looking at me with pity!"
"Scarlett…" He called, trying to reach out to her.
"No, don't you dare to touch me!" She snapped. "Don't you dare say my name and make it seem like it was nothing at all! Give me one reason I should forgive you!"
"Because the wedding ring is the real deal," He said softly, and in his eyes she saw the apology he could not utter and it made her falter when she wanted to scream. "It's the one thing we share with the same high and true value that has for only difference the size of the finger."
"Oh."
She paused, not knowing what to do with that information that had somehow hit hard on her anger, so much that she felt it slipping away. Her eyes lowered to the deep red carpet on the floor, so thick it felt like her feet were slowly sinking into it. She joined her hands, trying to keep them from fidgeting.
"Would you show me one day what was the ring you really wanted to give me for our engagement?"
"I will, Scarlett. I will. One day," He faced her, his hands touching hers lightly, and as she shook her head, trying not to cry, he let go and took shelter on the chair, a dark expression on his face.
She looked at him, feeling completely tired and wanting nothing more than to take refuge in the security of his arms without worrying about what he may think or what she had to do to reassure him. How could she do that when she herself needed it? She thought, distraught.
"You've hurt me, you know," She said, hesitating.
"I know." And she could see now he felt miserable.
She took a step forward, paused behind him, before letting herself fall on her knees with a sigh and the soft shivers of fabrics. Tentatively, she put her arms around him, the palms joined on his chest, and rested her chin on his shoulder. He jumped a little at her gesture, then relaxed.
"And yet…" She said. "Why do I feel like I've already forgiven you?"
She felt he was trying to see her expression but did not dare to actually turn his face.
"I don't know, Scarlett."
"I know," She said bitterly. "I think it's been obvious that when I love, I'm blind to anything. It's just that sometimes… It takes more time."
"And usually a little shouting."
"And usually a little shouting," She could not help but smile. "I am my father's daughter, after all. Gerald O'Hara was known for his fits of temper."
He nodded with what looked like a hopeful smile, looking at her longingly as his hand reached her cheek, lightly, as if not to frighten her. Or maybe because he could not believe she was with him, by his side.
"I have to correct you, my dear. You're not blind. You just have this incredible capacity of forgiving those who have been wrong by you…" There was wonder in these eyes – at least she wanted to believe there was – and she relished in it. She leaned on his caress, closing her eyes in content, so she did not see it turning into a mocking flame. ".. but not those who have been petty to you."
She chuckled. "And here I thought you were going to tell me a compliment. And in which category do you think you are, husband?"
"I think I have an idea, but I need a little confirmation," He observed her quietly. "Have you truly forgiven me?"
"What do you think?"
She smiled softly, trying to convey all her love to that man who still very much doubted it.
He looked at her in what looked like wonder, and she relished in the thought of it. Just for it, it lessened the pain of knowing he would throw out even the symbol of their bond.
Well, not the wedding ring, at least. That he had said it.
He looked away thoughtfully and she sighed.
"Rhett… What would you be ready to forgive?" She said. "To the woman you love, I mean?"
He tensed under her.
"What would there be to forgive?"
She froze, then sighed, sobered. She couldn't tell him. Not when she knew how it always ended between them, whether there was truth or not. Loving her had never prevented him from leaving when something displeased him. She still remembered the time when he took Wade to New-Orleans… Or when he took Bonnie…
And yet, he was still here…
… And he was not.
Oh, Rhett, she wanted to cry. Won't you ever trust me? Isn't it enough that I love you and you love me?
Yet, even with that thought, she knew that her actions weren't ones to make him trust her, just like his didn't make her feel at ease with that idea. She could tell herself it was to protect him, and surprise him, for then he would see she was his equal. It seemed they had reached an understanding, but it wasn't one they could talk about. Yet would it be enough?
She was withdrawing her arms from him when he took her wrist, forcing her to stay. He turned his head, looking at her in the eyes.
"The only thing that is truly unforgivable, my dear, is the one that can't be changed nor negotiated, for it is the most definite of the definite."
She cocked her head on one side, confused.
"Which is?"
He smirked.
"I'll leave you with that riddle, my pet."
She scowled.
"I'm not your pet!"
"No," He looked at her a long time before nodding. "No, indeed, you're not. You're…"
There it was. He was going to say it. She leaned it, not aware of that triumphant smile that was about to stretch on her lips.
"The most conceited woman I've ever known."
"Oh, you rascal!"
Yet, there was another smile on her face, and one on his, with a mocking flame that said it all.
Here again, she couldn't help it. She forgave him, like she always did, for imagined and real wrongs, because he was charming, he knew how to take her and make her feel safe, and she loved him. Oh, how she loved him!
What an infuriating man. What a lovable man. Her man.
She hummed, while he began to caress the inside of her wrist, his fingers following the trail of the lines.
"We'll need to find a house," He said. "We can't house the orphans all in there, that wouldn't be appropriate, don't you think?"
"A house? Oh, the lovely idea!" She exclaimed. "The orphanage is in such a sorry state!"
"My point totally. And housing the children elsewhere will make it easier for us to control who would work in there…"
"And what happens in there. Oh, Rhett, you're so clever! Yet…"
She faltered.
"What, my dear?" He looked up at her questioningly.
"There would be a need for a garden! And a big one."
He cocked an eyebrow up.
"A garden?"
"How else to keep them occupied and for them not to go hungry if the time comes when there's no food to have and none of us is there? And then, imagine if there's a problem in winter and we can't help them?"
"Of course, I should have known you'd think about it. How about a part for a school?"
"Oh, yes," She nodded. "Did you know, no one of them went to school? They had some of the nuns teaching, yet…"
"It's not enough. Very right, my dear. We'll see what Santa can do."
Finally, the anxious expression dropped entirely from her face and she snorted, refraining from the laugh that still threatened to come.
"Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett! Santa, really? Should I order you a new green gown bordered with white fur?"
He smirked.
"Only if you make a costume accordingly for you too. Green had always been your color."
"We'd look funny."
"Rhett and Scarlett Butler, tenants of an orphanage and still rich as Cresus. With these clothes on, they'd think us conceited enough to think ourselves Father and Mother Christmas."
"Well, at least we'd have done something!" Her heart thumped a little at their names joined with his voice, but she put a cheeky smile on her face, shrugging as if it was an answer she had expected. "And we'd look good doing it."
"That we would, my darling," He chuckled, kissing their intertwined fingers, before pausing. "At least…"
"At least?"
"If I ever decide to cross Atlanta from time to time to visit the orphanage."
She froze, then nodded.
"… Yes. If you ever decide."
She felt a pang of pain in her heart at this allusion but did not dare to confront him about it. It was playing with her fears, when she had already faced some of them and was tired to do so. It was like these talks about travels and the marvels of the world, and how he wanted to see it again. She could feel he wanted to leave, and she couldn't bear the thought. Couldn't bear the thought of waiting for him in that house, wondering if he might ever come back, terribly so it did not cross her mind that maybe he had other intentions in saying the things that he did.
She'd rather do it at Tara, but she still wasn't sure if he would join her in there.
She had to change subjects, or else she knew she would falter.
But what? Leaning in, she felt the sting of the necklace on her skin and it made her grimace in slight pain. She put a hand on it, wanting to take it off, but stopped. He caught her gesture and gave her a questioning glance. Looking into his eyes, very much aware of the restrained energy that his whole body exhaled, she took time to wonder once again who her husband was, and what it may lead her to in the end.
You, mister, are your worst enemy, She remembered the words. There are shadows in your past and your heart, and a cold grip that prevents you from living as freely as you would wish. You wear a mask so often you don't even know when it's on. You think secrecy is the best way to play, but it's a wild card, the one you want. I see many who'd like to catch her. Some for charms, some for harm. Some for spite. Some for comfort. She might easily be caught in a bigger wind than expected if you don't pay attention. Keep her close, be true to her and she'll be true to you. But if you don't, if you play with her blindly, you might lose it all. Life is no gamble, sir.
She let her hand fall at her side and shivered. Some parts were strangely close to their situation, and he himself at the time had admitted it. These shadows in his past and his, she was barely beginning to see them, if indeed it meant what she believed it did. There were his young years with that terrific father of his, and the cruel treatment that slave had suffered in front of his eyes. There were the days in the war, that she at the time, had been tempted to dismiss, too caught up with her own feelings. And there were all the years of his marriage to her, and little Bonnie…
No matter why he did not trust me, she thought, distraught. I wouldn't even trust myself!
She felt his hand reaching hers, startling her, before relaxing.
And then, about these men who'd like to catch her…
Some for charms? Difficult to answer that question, for Scarlett was very sure of her own charms on other men than Rhett, who took pleasure in telling her she was still thinking herself the Belle of five Counties. But if she had to guess right now, she would bet money on Todd Smith. My, that man wasn't even discreet in his admiration, and it made her want to shout when she saw that, for she knew it wasn't truly her that he admired. He did not know her.
Some for harm? For spite? That, she was determined to think it was that damned Fenton, who always talked to her of revenge at the same level as the alleged feelings he said he had. And what happened with Ella… Oh, no, she could not let him go near her ever again. Nor Wade.
Comfort… She paused and bit her lips, the memory of yesterday coming back to her. Ashley. Ashley was the one who wanted her for comfort. He was like a leech, trying to suck the life out of her, and even if she wanted to get rid of it, she knew she couldn't, with what she had promised Melly.
"You seem far away," Rhett said, and his tone was almost accusing.
She snapped back to reality, back into his eyes. Of course, he was suspicious. He had always seemed to know what she was thinking, and her thinking of Ashley in particular.
Though even when she was not thinking of him, he tended to bring him up.
"Rhett… Do you believe in prophecies?" She blurted.
He cocked an eyebrow up, mildly surprised at her question.
"Acts being settled in stone before they even had been done? No, Scarlett. I believe that people make their own bed and say it was fate when it does not go the way they want it to go," His eyes softened. "And I believe also sometimes they are so afraid of something happening that they make it so without even being aware of it."
"That doesn't make any sense."
He let out an amused smile.
"Of course, to you, my practical little wife, this doesn't make a sense. You've never been afraid of anything."
"That's not true. You just like to think so," She scoffed. "If I wasn't afraid, I wouldn't have nightmares."
"Oh, so you're afraid of fire? Well, that's a common enough fear, I guess. But I very doubt you'll find yourself trapped in the house when it's on fire. And what about the mist, my dear? Did it really happen?"
"There was a mist the day Melanie died, and you left," She said softly.
His caress on his wrist stopped.
"Oh. But that might be a coincidence, my dear."
"That might be," She shrugged. "But I think it might apply as well to you, then."
"How so?"
"I think you were so afraid of me hurting you, that you ended up hurting me instead, making me want to hurt you. That since the beginning."
There was a white, uneasy silence between them, barely broken by the cracks of the fire licking off the wood in the study.
"I guess we weren't good to each other back then, were we?"
"I guess we weren't. But enough talk of the past!" She complained loudly, and maybe a bit more dramatically than she could have. "It's dreary and it won't get us anywhere!"
"I disagree with you, for it is with the past that one can learn its lesson. Didn't you tell me yesterday that thanks to our marriage, you now knew what you wanted in a man? It's what makes us grow… But I understand your point that dwelling too much on it can make one unable to move on on their life. It is all in the balance, you see. Not too much, and not too little."
"Like a cooking recipe."
It drew a smile on his lips. "Just so. You know, I think you understand more than you let on. So why hide it?"
"Who says I'm hiding it? I'm just not thinking about it, that's it. Mostly."
He chuckled. "Oh, but then it doesn't disappear, does it? It becomes an invisible presence, nagging you and in the end, you don't know why, or what it is, and you might not even act on it before you're lost in it. That's a thing I've understood, living with you. Invisible things, those that are abstract and you can't completely grasp at the time, things that are just talks, looks, thoughts and feelings, not direct confrontation scare you, and you can only deal with it once it becomes entirely palpable to you, an immediate threat to your well-being and peace of mind."
"I'm sure I don't see what you mean," She batted her lashes, not liking this turn of conversation, but finding it better than to face his own suspicion that she barely managed to shrug off. "Or else it would mean I am afraid of what you're saying to me now."
"I'm sure you don't want to see. And I think you are. Afraid, that is. But that's alright, Scarlett. One day, you'll be able to face it, and I'm sure I'll take great pleasure in seeing you succeed and making the right choice."
"You think I could?"
"I think you will. No, that's not true. I'm sure you will," He squeezed her hand lightly, and she felt warm at the sight of the faith he seemed to have in her in that aspect. "You've grown up, Scarlett. I'm sure in time you'll be able to see things truly as they are and know how to use them or reply accordingly when it happens."
"Like you do?" She quipped. "Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett, everyone has their own opinions about things, I'm not sure anymore if there is only one way to consider them that would be entirely even close to the truth of it."
"Then you'll have to trust yourself, and those you care most about."
"And search for the information elsewhere, I suppose."
"To be sure, yes. It's always better to keep an open mind. It allows one to make more than one plan of action at the time."
She rolled her eyes.
"A thing I'm sure you became a master at. You always have a few cards on your sleeves."
He eyed her with amusement.
"Are you calling me a cheat, darling?"
"Well, I'm sure you'd do anything if only it would lead to the thing you want," She retorted sternly. "And you're not offended, so I guess it's the truth."
His grin widened.
"See. You've just proved I'm right."
"How so?"
"We've talked long and hard about things you can't grasp entirely. And you managed it pretty well."
"Oh, really?" She raised bright eyes at him, before recoiling with an offended expression on her face. "Oh, you are certainly very condescending about it."
He laughed. "You pout when no one compliments you, and you complain when one does it. Constancy, thy name is woman."
She huffed.
"When you'll use your own words, I'll listen to you."
"Oh, Scarlett, I didn't mean to ruffle your feathers, though I'm sure by now you know I always like to see your temper rise, and I know the surest way to assure it is often to use authors' words."
"It always seems like you're mocking my ignorance."
"My darling, ignorance is better than utter stupidity. One can be remedied, the other cannot. If it bothers you so much, why don't you do anything about it?"
"Is it a dare?" Her eyes shone with challenge and teasing. "I thought you didn't really care of a woman reading books?"
"If you want to think it as such," He shrugged, though the corner of his mouth lifted a little. "My dear, it's not about getting lost in them or rambling nonsense on them for the sake of a good word, but without having a true understanding of it. It's about getting information. And once you have the information, you can do whatever you want with it. If you don't, you allow people that have it, or some of it to feel superior, even if they don't have your wits."
"Then what do I win?"
He roared in laughter. "Of course, you would think of what you would get from it! How about the knowledge it procures and the feeling of knowing more than others?"
"Not enough, though I'm sure I'd very much love, like you, to tease the others and act superior about it," She said, her eyes dancing. "But then I'm sure that necklace I saw this morning in Godey's magazine would be a fine prize."
"I'm sure you would. Consider the deal done, then."
"And if I lose?"
"I'm sure we'll find out what you can give me. In time," He looked at her over, before saying. "By the way, my dear, have you finished that tome of the Arabian Nights?"
She blinked idly, remembering the night when in anger she had disregarded it, forgetting it until then. Where could it be? She wondered. She supposed one of the servants must have taken it and put it back in the library. Or maybe he had done this in one of his nightly visits, and he wanted to see if she would tell the truth.
"Oh. I've thrown it. I don't know where it's gone."
"I should have known. Well, then, I'll have to think of a prize when I win, then."
Chuckling, he raised from his seat and reached out to her with a grin.
"Come, Scarlett. Let's see how many books you can lift before I have to carry you."
Without hesitating, she took it and followed him, as he led her out of the room.
In the heat of the moment, they snickered like children as they went to the library, each of them trying to hush the other while barely concealing their own mirth.
He climbed the scale and handed her books, and she took them with an intoxicating giggle as he presented them with bravado and theatrical gestures.
"Moby Dick, Herman Melville!"
"I got it!"
"Les Misérables, Victor Hugo."
"I got it!"
"No, that's 'je l'ai', my darling!" He corrected with an amused smile, before handing her another. "La Morte d'Arthur, Sir Thomas Mallory !"
"I got it, sir Snob!"
He chuckled. "Uncle Tom's Cabin, Harriett Beecher Stowe! That's for your little thinking on slavery."
"The book that started the war? Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett, how scandalous of you! For sure the Old Guard would never forgive you if they knew!"
"For sure, they won't, though they might not agree with your rewriting of history," He replied. "Macbeth, Shakespeare!"
She stumbled under the weight.
"Rhett…"
"Anthony and Cleopatra, another Shakespeare!"
"Rhett!"
"Wuthering Heights, for I'm sure you'd like to read the rest."
"Rhett!" She cried, giggling. "That's too much, I… huff!"
She fell on her backside.
He jumped from the scale, making another book fall with him, and helped her raise.
"Are you alright, my dear?"
Her hands in his, she stared at him as he examined her closely, flushed and sobered under his scrutiny and the hint of a smile under his neatly clipped mustache. Her backside hurt a little, but it was more her pride that was wounded. She looked elsewhere, at all the fallen books around them and began to pick them up, handing them silently to him until he gathered them in a neat pile, a spark of amusement at seeing her so demure. She looked around, feeling like a little girl that had done wrong, before her eyes caught something.
"Oh. There's another one that fell."
She crouched to take it but froze when she saw where it was opened. And the image it showed.
In front of her, there was the image of a woman, naked, sitting on…
Oh, dear God! She thought, her cheeks blushing as she saw the man under her, his hands on her chest, teasing…
She knew she should look away. No lady could bear it, she thought. It was vulgar. It was crude, it was base, it was…
Yet, she couldn't. Why she couldn't, she didn't know. All she knew was that she felt hot and cold, and antsy, was suddenly very much aware of her surroundings and that she wondered…
No, she didn't wonder at all. Not at all. Not one bit.
She could feel Rhett's presence behind her, before even his body collided with her as he crouched behind her, settling her between his thighs. It was hot and hard, like a rock on a hot summer day, and as his scent enveloped her like a tight blanket, she felt accurately the turmoil it brought to her slender body. Her nostril flared on a sharp breath. Gone was the scent of old books and ink. Now was his, masculine and overwhelming, so exciting and true. It was a scent of action, of adventure and for a time she thrived on it alone, her lids dropping as she held on a breath.
"It's… disgusting."
"Yet, you're still looking," He leaned in and she bit her lip, her chest rising and falling with the same rhythm of her heart.
"Look at the woman, Scarlett," He said, and his voice was hoarse, yet barely higher than a whisper. "Does she look like she is disgusted?"
"No, she looks…"
Proud. She touched the page softly.
He hummed, his nose grazing the back of her neck.
"See, Scarlett, what always saddened me was that how our women are kept sheltered like a flower, learning to think that making love is a duty, and desire men's business, and something to fear. I think that we, the men, raise you on a pedestal that makes you an ethereal being, pure and untainted in our mind, and most of you conform to that idea, because it became a norm, something to do if you want to be accepted."
One corner of her lips lifted.
"Like waiting for years before coming out when your spouse dies?"
"Oh, so you wouldn't wait if I died?"
"I won't ever marry again," She retorted firmly, turning her head to look at him in the eyes. "Seriously, Rhett, you ruined me for the other men, and I think you are very much aware of it, you rascal," She tried to soften it with a teasing smile, but then the idea of death and Rhett was too much for her to bear. "Please don't talk of death. I don't want to think about it."
How could she think of remarrying when she loved him? And when she knew he loved her?
His eyes glinted.
"Yes, it was just so," He said. "And just like it, I'm sure your mother told you it was your burden to bear your husband's bestiality, but the product of that coupling, a child, made it bearable. But certainly knowing you as I do, you did not think so when it came to you."
"No. I did not."
She felt him smile against her.
"See, that's one of the things that separate you from other women born in your condition. You're aware of it. You have an inherent understanding that you can be so much more, that you don't have to abide by rules that might imprison you. Yet, you're still very much in that cage, my darling, and I'm sure you're not even aware that you can bring pleasure to yourself."
"To myself?" Her eyes widened. "Now, you're being obscure."
He sighed, the sound thick with a deep frustration that, although it seemed painful, did not seem entirely unpleasant. He leaned on her shoulder, his embrace lightly tightening.
"No, I'm not. You're just proving my point once again."
He took her hand in his and kissed the knuckles. Her eyes followed his movement as he led it first to her lips, grazing the bottom, then down on her chest. She shivered from it, shivered from the feeling of his nose buried on the junction between her neck and her shoulders, and the heat from his body that came to her in waves. Slowly, he made her continue that way, until they reached the end of her corset.
She gasped. He intertwined her fingers with his and held it there. A desire came to her, forbidden, that he went lower then. That he touched her there and erase that tension that was building under their palms.
"Can you feel it?" He whispered in her ear, his drawling voice husky with an intensity that made her shiver, though she had to refrain from a joyful giggle from the tickling of his mustache on her skin. "Desire, my dear, is like a foreign language. Sometimes you know instantly the meaning of it, and you reply in your own way. Sometimes, you don't know what it means, and you try to find what it could be. It takes practice before reaching it completely and mastering it. Unmastered, and it can lead you to get lost in perilous situations and even more imprisoned. But when it is… When you finally let it talk to you… it's freeing."
She leaned back on his embrace, melting into his body, her mouth agape as if she was trying to maintain in her some of his powerful aura that was surrounding her now. He gasped.
"God, Scarlett, are you even aware of what your body is saying? What there is in the sway of your hips and the curve of your lips? And these eyes…"
"Saying?" She blinked leisurely at him. "I don't know, Rhett. Maybe I need someone that could help me translate it."
He smiled then, and she looked at his white teeth that were shining right above her, frustratingly at a distance she could only reach if she made an effort for it.
She looked at him, intoxicated, his black eyes all she could see, the charcoal burning lightly with promise.
"Oh, I could teach you… If I'm inclined to."
"Oh, but then maybe we could begin now," She talked without thinking. "After all, I do have a kiss to take."
Then she froze, blushing as the words came finally to her mind, and he chuckled.
"Then do so."
She pushed on her feet to reach his lips. His other hand, that caressed her arm slowly reached her neck to maintain her here, leaving on its path a tingling sensation like the poking of a fire. The other tightened around her, and she moaned as it was pressed so on that intimate place. He kissed her slowly, intently taking his time as if he wanted to carve each corner into memory. There was a fervor in that kiss, like a promise for more, and she replied in kind, following his gestures. A promise that it would not just be the game of one short-timed moment of passion, but more of a deep, constant love, with many, many of these moments. It was tender, yet filled with a progressing heat that shook her to the core, and she felt she might soon explode with such feelings in her.
This was a kiss of a man who intended to stay with her, she concluded. No matter what his talks said. A kiss that was one of the most delicate ones she ever had, and that for once seemed to demand permission, for her to take the lead if she wanted to. It was one of two adults, growing to respect each other, love each other, and yet it had a teasing edge, like a dare, no, a promise, for more. It was the promise that even if everything was not alright between them, he would do anything to make it change. And that was better than all the words he could have said.
She could see he was containing himself greatly, for the desire was in his eyes, overwhelming, and she appreciated that he did, for even if she delighted in being in his power, this showed her he was willing to treat her as an equal. They stopped a little, looking in each other's eyes, like a silent oath, then kissed again.
But then, after a long time, it became obvious that this new kiss had another meaning that had more to do with teasing, because when she tried to intensify it, he would continue his own little exploration without a care in the world she was hanging by his every touch.
She turned fully to him when the heat was too much to bear and put her arms around his neck. She kissed his forehead, his chin, then both of his cheeks with a teasing smile. She paused, hesitant, her lids dropping one time to his lips, then kissed his nose. He chuckled.
"There's religion in your kisses, my dear."
She grinned deviously.
"Well, my conscience made me ashamed of that much paganly, husband. If I continue, I will have a lot to confess when Mass comes."
"Oh, I'll give you something to confess…"
Finally! Her heart chanted as he pressed her against his body, his lips joining hers in a frenzy that blew her mind away, like a storm she could not escape. She tightened her embrace on him, feeling she wasn't close enough, and yet failing at satisfying that need completely. His hands reached her bottom roughly and she let out a little cry, feeling his own desire against hers. Unconsciously, she arched against him, making him grunt possessively as he tried to lift her skirt.
Intoxicated, she chuckled with glee and slipped from his embrace swiftly, feeling the burn of his eyes on her as she raised, and the frustration that laid in there. She giggled once more, and as he was about to catch her and stand, she took him by the collar and stole another kiss, before resting her forehead on his.
"Another time, my love," She husked. "Another lesson. Goodnight…"
He looked at her closely, before sighing with an amused smile, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
"Sweet dreams, my love."
And it sounded more like Dream of me.
She smiled. "I will."
He let her go and she stumbled a little, as if unused to stand on her own. She did not know how she reached her chambers, her mind hazy, almost feverish, nor how she found the strength to take off the dress without sighing, yet soon she found herself under her blanket, alone, yet very much hopeful the other side of the bed would soon be filled with that swarthy pirate king she had chosen for husband.
She touched her lips lightly, before letting her hand fall from bosom to belly. Then lower. She blushed with a shiver at her own action, then swiftly lit off the candle. Yet, the hand stayed there, and the words and feelings that had provoked it too.