Chapter 25
Scarlett waited patiently as the boy continued to write, hesitating on words. He barely knew how to do it, and she had to help him through it, refraining from snapping with irritation at the child, especially when she had seen he was leaving marks on the sumptuous rosewood desk she had put in that room. Though at least, she felt glad at herself not to have made the same mistake for the arrangements of the future orphanage.
It had taken time even to persuade him, and an old part of her was protesting that he was meanly taking pleasure at making her suffer personally. Or that God was doing so, for she was adding her own part to the truth to be sure the accused stayed where it should be: under lock and key, far from her family.
When it was all done, she gathered the pieces of paper and reread it another time. Pansy had told her not to make too much of it, for it was susceptible to be invalidated if the picture seemed too caricatural, too much. This had made it even harder, for she had been terribly tempted to add other accusations through the boy's pen.
She sighed, then turned toward the child, who was still gripping the sheets, eyes downcast in deep reflection.
"Thank you, Billy."
"This will protect her ?"
"Yes, it will."
She examined him. All cleaned up, he seemed almost decent if there wasn't this darkness in his brown eyes that was disturbing. He had jet-black hair that shined almost blue and a thin mouth that seemed used to be shut. His skin was sun-tanned, and she wondered how much time he must have taken wandered in the streets when he should have been in the orphanage.
But then she could not blame him. He should have been safe here. He hadn't.
She paused.
"You like Ella, don't you?"
"She's the only one that'd been truly nice with me…" He answered softly. "With you, Ma'am."
"You don't truly believe the last part, do you?" She chuckled when he blushed. "It's alright. The important part is that you like her. I need you to do something for me. Well, for her."
"Anything!"
My, he really likes her, she thought with dismay when she saw the fierceness in his eyes.
She touched his hand, her eyes piercing on him.
"She has a heart of gold, and she trusts easily. Watch over her. Be with her always. Protect her, when others can't."
"Oh," He nodded in understanding. "I'll do it! I swear I'll do it!"
"Thank you."
Then, she'd be sure he would stay close, in case she had need of him.
She took back her hand and raised. Unaware to her, the light entered in the otherwise dark room after a moment of grey rain, and it gave her a halo that gave the boy goosebumps. She seemed at the moment like an angel he was about to lose, and uncertainty rose in his heart. He called her back as she was at the door.
"Ma'am…"
She turned, putting a sweet smile on her lips.
"Yes, Billy?"
His expression was stubborn, with a mix of fear and awe.
"You're nice too… For a big person. But like others, you will leave, won't you? I'll go back. I always go back there."
"Is that why you don't feel at ease here, do you?" She stopped. "You'll not go back there. That, I promise you."
"How can you be so sure?" Billy shook his head. "They'll kill you. I know they will. They always do. And then they'll send me back, me and Caroline."
"I'll be protected. I'll come back. And you'll not be sent back there."
He did not quite believe her. She sighed. So much for the vote of confidence. Even with children, it did not seem easy to get.
"Come downstairs when you feel like it," She said, seeing she could not reassure him. "There'd be some croissants, I believe."
The boy cocked his head, confused.
She chuckled at his ignorance. "It's a fluffy pastry. You'll like it, you'll see."
She closed the door and sighed. This was done at least. She only had to send it when the time came. Quietly, she went to the study and put it in her chest. It was useful, after all. She did not quite know what to do with the money, but she would see it later.
When she raised, she felt disappointed by the lack of life in the study, when other nights, it had been so full of it, with the children's laughs and questions, Rhett's little comments, their presence at her side like the sign that happiness could be possible. They had made it a refuge, almost a home. Last time she had told the story, it was in her room, maybe. But this place had something important in it she could not quite grasp now.
She smiled softly. The night had been wonderful. Oh, the joy to have him by her side, his strong body so close, and his arms around her! She had thought she would cry with all the emotions in her, the excitement screaming through so many pores of her skin.
She had woken up once and observed his beloved face until he opened his eyes and asked her if she had had any nightmare. She said no. And indeed, how could she have one, now? She knew what she wanted. She wasn't hiding it now. He was the one that had made the nightmare go away.
When finally the morning came, he wasn't by her side, being an earlier riser than she was, and she had nestled in their warmth, wanting to stay comfortably nestled in the mix of their scents combined, so promising.
And tonight, he would not resist her, she thought. He wouldn't, with the dress she bought.
With that thought, she wanted to see him now, to be in his arms while he would whisper tenderly in her ear.
She wandered through the house, wondering where they could all have been, before finally inspecting the garden.
There they were, Caroline behind Wade and Ella clasping eagerly her hands, her feet balancing her little frame with enthusiasm. And in front of them, Rhett was crouching toward a bush, his hands clasped over something she could not yet see.
She went closer.
"That's a girl, sweet Ella," She heard him say. "A little she-devil that could fit in your pocket."
A cat. He had found a cat. On the day when the children were leaving. Well, more surprising things had happened, Scarlett thought.
Though she had the suspicion he had bought it, and was now putting on a show not only to surprise the children, but also to prevent her from refusing it.
"Oh, mama, she's got our eyes!" Ella cried in delight, turning towards her mother when she noticed her. "Oh, mama! May we keep her? May I? I'm sure she'd like Tara!"
Scarlett pursed her lips.
"I'm not sure… It may have some fleas."
Rhett laughed. "Well, no, my dear. She seems quite the proper lady."
She pouted, wanting so much to stick her tongue at him, though not wanting to be a bad model in front of the children.
"Please…" Ella relented, her mouth pouting. "It's a lady, Uncle Rhett said! She'd be nice!"
Scarlett wasn't about to let herself waver like that, especially when she could see Rhett petting it with an obnoxious smile, daring her to do so. Yet, when Wade joined, she felt she was being outnumbered and she had to cede. Irritated with her decisions, she urged the children to go back to the house and help with the packing. Rhett stayed, irritating as always.
"What, my dear, are you afraid of a little kitten?" He lightly taunted her.
She huffed and sashayed towards the two beasts, glaring at them, little and big. It was a tiny thing, really, almost a little ball of black furs with green eyes glinting at her, and when she was close enough, it hissed. She took a step back, narrowed her eyes, her mouth pursing a little more.
"I'm not sure she likes me."
"And you're not sure you like her either, I believe. Cats tend to be very territorial and feel it when there's a rivalry."
She rolled her eyes.
"Why, rivalry? Fiddle-dee-dee, rivalry with a cat."
His eyes twinkled.
"Oh, so you feel attacked?"
Her mouth twitched.
"Beware, husband, or I might scratch you."
He chuckled. She went closer, eyeing suspiciously the little intruder.
"She likes you very much." She commented, her mouth twisting in dismay. "She's purring quite loudly!"
"She seems to," He examined it closely. "She has beautiful eyes."
She crossed her arms, pouting. Oh, how he was ridiculous, with this thing!
"Fiddle-dee-dee, they're like mine!"
He looked at her and shook his head in amusement.
"Oh, Scarlett. You're incredible!"
"That, I am!" She exclaimed with pride, before cocking her head on one side, suddenly suspicious. "But why the sudden compliment, husband?"
It only made him laugh harder. He kissed the head of the bewildered kitten, his eyes fixed on her.
"Oh, you!" She stomped her foot. "You're mocking me and I don't like it."
"I'm not mocking you, my dear," He replied, his brow twitching in amusement. "At least… just a little. But it's still… fondly."
She pursed her lips and turned away with a huff, but he caught her by the waist and pressed her against his body. He kissed her, the surprise and the tenderness of it leaving her breathless. He took advantage of her opened mouth, teasing with his tongue the tip of hers until she melted and gripped his collar. It ended too soon for her. She wanted to hold on to the moment a bit longer. He caressed her chin with his thumb and she shivered at the softness in his eyes.
"Very fondly," He said with a hoarse voice.
Complaining, the cat jumped from him, its claws leaving an angry mark that made Rhett hiss. Scarlett grinned innocently.
"See. Now you've been scratched."
She kissed his cheek fondly then walked away. In front of her, the cat had entered the house, and Ella was joyfully trying to catch it.
"Cruel woman, leaving her poor husband bleeding to death."
"How you do run on," She smiled with dimples, waving at him. "I was just asking myself why you weren't following so I might clean it properly… Though I've heard I wasn't very soothing. Are you afraid I might scratch you harder?"
"Can't be worse than now."
She laughed, and it rang like clear, melodic clicks of crystal. She took his hand and led him to the kitchen, asking some servants to give her some clean cloth and water, and then proceeded to clean the little scratch. She could feel his eyes on her and it made her shiver with the implications. When it was done, she kissed it, a smile on her lips.
"So tender," He whispered, caressing her cheek. "You surprise me, my dear."
Her lashes unwittingly fluttered. "Well, is it? Surprising, I mean."
He did not answer. Instead, she felt his lips on her forehead, and she closed her eyes, savoring the feeling.
They were sadly interrupted by Prissy's call for dinner, and Scarlett eagerly talked to the children, remembering they would be leaving in a few hours. She felt she wanted to know everything, every thought, just to hold on the moment.
Yet, the moment came, and when they went to the station and settled the children in the wagon, she whispered urgently to Rhett, her grip on his hand a little stronger than it should be.
"Where are your men, Rhett?"
He smirked, then whispered to her ear.
"Don't stare. The man with the newspaper. The other with the rounded hat. And the one with the stick."
She looked, then lifted an eyebrow at him.
"I see you've followed my wish quite efficiently."
"I do my best."
She nodded, then came to see the children.
"Come see us soon for the story, mama!" Ella cried with the cat on her new, mewling in protest. "I want to know what happens to Solene!"
"Don't ask her just for the story, dummy," Wade chided, before turning to Scarlett with bright eyes. "I hope to see you soon, Mother."
He was trying so hard to be brave that it broke her heart.
She gathered them in her arms.
"Take care of one another, my darlings. I love you so much. We'll see you soon, indeed. Very soon."
She closed her eyes through the embrace, preventing herself to cry. Soon, soon, her heart chanted.
Then, after another goodbye, she turned toward the Scottish giant that was sitting at their side, next to Prissy, while they began to chatter about what they were about to do in Tara, before being distracted by Rhett making his own goodbye.
"Patrick… Take great care of them."
There was a strange glint in his eyes.
"Lassie…"
"If there's any problem that my husband's men don't see, I trust you'll do the right choice to protect them."
He paused, looking at her.
"And who is going to protect you?"
"My husband, of course. And my friends."
He chuckled.
"And me, what am I?"
"Why, you are my friend too, Patrick," She exclaimed. "Though it seems still quite strange to me."
The man smirked, though his eyes were bright.
"To me too. You're quite a strange woman. Take great care, lassie."
She nodded and smiled, and somehow, she felt what she had said had been true, actually. An unlikely friend and ally, but somehow she felt sure of his loyalty. He would come for her if she needed help. He had a debt to pay, after all.
Not that she truly needed him. She had Rhett. And she had herself. She knew that whatever would come to her, she would survive it.
Yet, there was something he seemed to try to tell her, and she could not quite understand it.
With one last sigh, she left the wagon and joined Rhett who was waiting for her on the quay.
"What did you say to him?" He asked when she pressed herself against him, linking his arm with hers.
She hummed, pressing herself harder.
"To take care of the children. That's what I hired him for, remember?"
She looked at the train, faltering.
"This is not the first time they take the train, darling," She heard Rhett say softly.
"Yet, it's the first…" since I've finally realized how much I loved them.
She did not say the rest, but he understood. He put an arm around her shoulders.
"It's alright, Scarlett. They'll be alright."
Yet, she felt like a deep warning in her heart that made her want to cry. She put her arms around Rhett and nestled her head on his chest. There, she could feel the rhythm of his heart, soothing like the pressure of his hands on her back.
She did not see the train leaving, too focused. She heard it. Then she let herself be led home by Rhett, who kissed her hair in support.
Yet, he also couldn't stay. Many things to settle, he said, and she felt all alone in that house now empty of his and her children's voice, and still very much lacking the furniture that previously filled it.
That's when she realized some things.
Some of her things were missing. But more important, most of his things were missing.
Scarlett felt doubt in her heart, a deep fear she could not shake off.
Her fists clenched. No. He loved her. She had to believe he did.
Yet, loving her had never prevented him from leaving her.
She closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts.
No matter what, she'd stay strong. For herself, for the children. She had survived many things. She'd know how to handle that storm. He had left before, yes. But he'd come back. He always had. He had promised her.
And even if he did not, she'd live still, a traitorous part of her mind sneakily added.
She shook her head. She did not want to think about it. And then, he had said they would join the children at Tara.
There wasn't a lie on his face, was there? At the moment she had felt so sure, but now…
Oh, great balls of fire, she thought, irritated with herself.
She went to his room, unquietness settling in her belly. The door opened with a hiss and she entered with unsure steps. The bed had been undone, the sheets taken away, leaving only the mattress. Otherwise, it was spotless. Too spotless. There were no books on the shelves, no sign of handkerchief, no paper lingering on the desk or on the nightstand. Nothing to make it the room of Rhett Butler, her formidable husband.
She waited till he came back, lingering a bit in the library to wander through the books he had suggested her, blushing terribly at the improper one though still turning the pages with a wicked curiosity. Her mind stayed with such images, and somehow transformed them to make it all about Rhett, and she felt herself shivering all over. It made her remember the way he had touched her, just yesterday afternoon, and how good it had felt...
Then, as she couldn't bear the hotness without the presence that was inspiring it, she looked at the different partitions, determined to make herself the queen of the party. She had to find something new, she decided. Something that would make her stand up among the others, to make Rhett see how much she loved him. She hummed quietly, then stopped at one.
There was her name on the paper, written with Rhett's neat handwriting.
'Greensleeves'. Oh, yes, she knew that song. An old one, certainly, and different from those new ones which mostly talked about the war and other dreadful subjects. But then why did her husband…
Oh, she thought, reading the lyrics, and the few modifications he had made, as if to fit their story. It had certainly been written during the first year of their marriage, she thought, because it listed every little gift he had bought to her.
She frowned, her lip stinging from her upset bite.
She'd prove him wrong, she thought. He'd see it would not be like that. Not anymore. She'd give him the original song, and he would see how different it was.
She made herself practice, then finally waited for his return in the supper-room.
Dinner was eaten quietly, for she did not feel like talking, and he felt her unquietness, his gaze barely leaving her. When it was done, he went to her side and surprised her with a gift.
Astonished, she looked at the dark blue box and opened it eagerly, before faltering a little.
It was the necklace from Godey's Magazine.
It was beautiful. It was expansive.
And in her eyes it looked like a farewell gift. She could see the big rhinestone-encrusted pendant with the emerald cabochon glaring up at her in the middle of three strands of creamy-colored pearls. She touched it quietly, the stones hard and cold under her fingers. She raised bright questioning eyes at him.
"Why are you offering it to me, Rhett?"
His eyes gleamed.
"Didn't you say you wanted it?"
"As a prize for our bet."
"Well, let's that be my advance for when you win it."
You've never paid in advance for a bet. You only did that when there was something you wanted from me. What do you want, this time?
She bit her lip.
"Aren't you pleased with it?"
"Oh. Yes, I am," She said, thinking quickly, then nodded. "Could you put it on me, please?"
He nodded, still surprised by her reaction.
She raised, waiting with anticipation. First came the sound of his steps behind her. Then the feeling of his nearness, of his warmth. Her skin trembled a little as she felt his fingers, surprisingly gracious and sensual as he lay the jewel on her throat, clasping it before resting her hands around her neck. She felt his lips on her hair, soft and brief like the clipping wings of a butterfly. The images that she had seen moments ago came to her, making her blush all over, and her mouth smile in a secretive way that made him ask her about it.
"Oh, just silly things," She replied, but the smile widened.
With his thumb under her chin, he made her look at him, and it felt like she could see what she was thinking about for his eyes darkened and he leaned toward her, until their foreheads touched. She closed her eyes, expectant, but the kiss did not come. At least not on the lips. Upset, she opened her eyes and glared at him, who was looking at her with teasing eyes.
He was daring her to kiss him. Yet, knowing that was what he wanted, she only kissed the end of his mustache, then escaped his embrace. She heard his laugh as she went downstairs.
She went to change, added some earbobs and put on her dress with excitement. For her hair, she put it simply, in a manner that was alike as to what she used to do when she was a young girl.
She couldn't wait to see Rhett's face.
It was the same pattern as that fateful day, at Twelve Oaks. Almost the same shape, yet fixed to fit the tastes of the day. The green of it flattered her eyes, and she knew she was beautiful in it, the memory of the girl she had been lingering for a moment before revealing the woman she had become. It was bold, at the limits of what could be considered properly decent. But it was her, and she felt good in it, unlike any other dress she could have chosen. She looked at herself once more in the mirror, then smiled. She could do it. She was Scarlett O'Hara Butler, and nothing, no one could resist her if she did not allow them to.
At the top of the stairs, she saw him before he noticed her. Handsome, strong, unchanging in his well-cut suit, the white, slightly ruffled shirt hinting at the hard muscles underneath. It made her feel it was a restrained panther she had married, and the idea of him getting loose took her breath away, almost making her feel like a little girl.
Yet, she was no little girl anymore, and she intended in making that man hers entirely.
And finally he turned towards her, his black eyes wandering on her figure in shock.
"Scarlett…?"
On his face was a surprised, then bland look, and a tension in his jaw she could see all too clear. He had put his hands clasped behind him, and she imagined now it was tight, the knuckles almost white.
Well, this was not quite the kind of reaction she had wanted to raise.
Carefully, she walked towards him with her heart on her sleeve.
"Let's rewrite history…" She said, meeting his gaze. "… even if just for tonight. You and me, at the beginning of the beginning. Together. Nothing to set us apart. No war. No word overheard. No false belief. No one. Take me back to the day we met."
His eyes glinted in understanding. The tension eased. He nodded, his mouth twitching.
"Are you going to throw something at me this time?"
She smiled cheekily.
"Only if you don't play nice."
"Oh, then I'll make sure to be on my worst behavior and that no object is at your disposal."
Confused, she cocked her head to one side.
"Oh, but then, what could I throw at you?"
He waggled his brows. "Yourself, of course."
She snorted.
"You're terrible."
"You like it."
She only hummed in answer.
He took her hands in his all properly, yet the sparks ran through her body all the same. He pressed it against his lips, and she felt herself shivering with pleasure.
"Scarlett…"
"Yes, Rhett?"
"You're beautiful," He said softly.
She felt the satisfaction fill her chest like a well-fed cat.
"Well, we do make a handsome couple, don't we?"
He chuckled, then led to the party, his eyes barely leaving her. She felt herself flushing with satisfaction at his undivided attention. They made their way to the National Hotel and were greeted by the hosts who did not seem to know how they should talk to them. Scarlett and Rhett grinned at them innocently, yet, when their eyes met, they shared an amused laugh.
Other guests were not that much better. Some did not hide their discontent. Others were extremely polite. Only René and Maybelle seemed actually a bit genuinely happy to see them. She offered them the same smile, then went on.
She froze, feeling other eyes on her. In front of her, Ashley was pale, in his eyes a feverish gleam like an accusation.
Damn it, she cursed to herself. The dress wasn't that much of a good idea after all.
She pursed her lips and frowned.
At her side, Rhett sent her a questioning glance and she smiled at him reassuringly. Yet, when he looked into the direction she had stared, his grip hardened on her.
They turned away, but the tension was still there, like a thick cloud that was following them.
She squeezed his hand, kissed it swiftly, and it relaxed. They went on.
The ball began with a little contest among the present ladies on the piano. Repeatedly, the tunes of "Dixie" and "When this cruel war is over" were played, and when it was her turn, Scarlett felt very satisfied with herself at having chosen something else entirely. She settled on the bench, breathing in and out deeply, then began.
Alas my love you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously;
And I have loved you oh so long
Delighting in your company.
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves my heart of gold
Greensleeves was my heart of joy
And who but my lady Greensleeves.
I have been ready at your hand
To grant whatever thou would'st crave;
I have waged both life and land
Your love and goodwill for to have.
Sing with me, her eyes were daring him, but he wouldn't rise to the bait. There was a fire in these black orbs and she got herself lost in it.
Thy girdle of gold so red,
With pearls bedecked sumptuously,
The like no other lasses had,
And yet thou wouldest not love me.
Her fingers danced on the piano, and finally her eyes followed them when it was too much to bear.
Greensleeves, now farewell, adieu !
God I pray to prosper thee,
For I am stil thy lover true
Come once againe, and love me !
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves my heart of gold
Greensleeves was my heart of joy
And who but my lady Greensleeves.
She hesitated on the tune, then, determinedly, looked right into the eyes of her husband. She had lied. She would modify the lyrics. She would not be let herself be presented like this.
Eyes widened as she continued, her soprano voice cracking a little at the first words, before getting stronger.
Alas, my love, you do me wrong,
My heart is not something to pay
Mine is a love so deep and strong
It waits for things you yet won't say
Greensleeves is all a joy
Greensleeves is my hope for change
Greensleeves is a dream of gold
It's my heart telling you to stay…
Then the last note rang in the room, and she was applauded. She looked around, surprised, then accepted Mrs. Meade's arm when the old woman offered it to her. Rhett was nowhere in sight. Scarlett tried to find him in the crowd, but Mrs. Meade diverted her attention.
"I'm not sure it was the lyrics, Scarlett dear…"
She smiled sheepishly, acting like the foolish girl she was not.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I must have forgotten."
"It's alright, dear." Mrs. Meade whispered compassionately. "You'll not be the only one who fails to fix a song that's already broken."
Scarlett scowled.
That old peahen knew nothing about her and Rhett. How could she dare…
But then she stopped, unwilling to ruin her efforts. And then, she had finally spotted Rhett. She joined him with eager strides, refraining from calling him loudly. Instead, when she was close enough, she put her hand on his, waiting until he would meet her eyes.
When he finally did, she held on her breath. It felt like he wanted to devour her.
And she did not mind, actually. She wanted it.
Silently, he handed her a glass and she took it gratefully. She was about to talk when suddenly Richard's voice interrupted her.
"Would you mind very much if I take the first dance with your delightful wife, old friend?"
Rhett blinked. "No, I don't."
She was led away, an unwilling actress on the one play she did not want to take part of.
"It was so good to hear a tune from Europe, finally," Richard said as it began. "Did you play it for me?"
Her smile froze.
"Well, of course."
"Say it," He urged her. "Tell me that you love me. I want to hear it."
"I… love you," Her eyes stayed demurely down, so she could not see the burning gaze he laid on her. So he couldn't see the lie in her eyes. She raised her head suddenly.
"I am loyal to the man I love," She said fiercely. "I'd die for him."
And it was true. He delighted in that, unaware she was talking of another man.
"Let's escape, then," He whispered in her ears.
Her eyes widened, bewildered.
"How? When?"
"Tonight. Meet me at my chambers. 125," As he twirled her, she felt something hard and long being slipped in her hand. A key. "We'll satisfy the needs of our bodies, then the needs of our hearts."
In your dreams, she thought. But then she remembered the testimonies and the paper-knife and she wanted to scream.
In another move, she put the key in her reticule and, seeing his insistence, she nodded, though she knew the only reason she would go to his room would be to finally find that damn paper-knife, that she had tried to find through the dance.
When finally it ended, she refrained the urge from taking her hand back.
Rhett took her hand immediately when she joined him, with a noticeable pressure as if to assure himself she was back to his side. Or maybe to remind her she was his, and his alone.
She smiled at him, content. "I love you."
His grip tightened on her. Her smile widened.
Oh, my jealous husband trapped in his own game, she thought fondly. Let me show you how I love you. Let this be our moment, just you and I, like it should be.
"Dance with me," She said instead.
His dark orbs lightened like a well-polished onyx. And dance, they did, through this song and the next, eyes on each other as if nothing else mattered. It was soft. It was passionate. It was like a dream she did not want to end.
Nonetheless, it was stopped when some men called Rhett to join them through a game of poker, Lord Fenton being quite insistent about it, and overdoing the cheerfulness as he put his arms around her husband's shoulders.
Shrugging, Rhett turned towards her and kissed her knuckles, his eyes full of promises. She held on her breath, but let him go. He'll come back, she thought amusedly. He always did.
She tried to talk with the other women, some still eyeing her suspiciously. But, without her awareness of it, she was held as an ignorant victim by Mrs. Meade, and they tolerated her despite her earlier mistakes.
When she could not bear it anymore, she found a way to escape and go to the poker room.
She was not the only woman, thankfully, in the room, though some of them seemed to be easy ones, making the respectable ones look plain and awkward, almost lost in the tapestries. Scarlett quickly found her husband, a cigar on his lips, around one of the tables and put her hands on his shoulders. He genuinely smiled at her, though raised an eyebrow at her presence.
Richard frowned. She bit her lip. She needed to do something to appease his suspicions.
She kissed Rhett's cheek, looked at his cards, and formed a three with her fingers. Richard's eyes glinted. The frown eased.
She whispered to Rhett's ear that she was going to refresh herself a little more before the next dance. He nodded, then turned back to his game, focused.
And refresh herself, she did. It provided her with an excuse to slip away from it all, drap her shawl more closely around her shoulders, borrow a long cape with a hood from the pile of clothes left by the guests, and finally slip into Lord Fenton's chambers, taking care not to be noticed in the way.
So many things to do.
There was an open bottle of Champagne in his chambers, and she gleefully put drops of draught in it. Maybe a little more than she should have, but at the moment she did not really care to count. Satisfied with herself, she hummed and let her eyes wander on the great mahogany bed.
Yet, as she was about to turn to look through his things, the door opened, with Lord Richard Fenton leaning on the threshold, eyeing her with an appreciation that had an unrestrained strength in it. He closed behind him, his steps self-assured as he went closer to Scarlett.
"Are you lost, sweet sultana?" Richard whispered not so suggestively. "Or are you exactly where you are supposed to be?"
She had to refrain the urge from rolling her eyes. She examined him and decided.
"You're drunk, my lord," She said quietly, turning away and filling a glass with Champagne. Suddenly, she felt his arms around her and she turned with the drink. "Here. Take it."
He took it and gulped it all down.
"You know, thanks to you, I got quite an amount of money from your husband."
"Huh?" She examined slowly each item, touching it with the tip of her fingers, before freezing at something familiar. "What's this seal?"
He leaned toward her, a malicious smile on his face.
"Mine. Well, not my family's seal. Mine alone. I made it some years ago. The key?"
"Here," She gave it to him, but panic overcame her when she saw he was about to open her former jewelry box before her eyes.
Swiftly, she turned him back and kissed him.
His arms went around her, heavy and disturbing, and when she finally ended this misery, she felt him caress his cheek possessively. His sullen mouth was almost pouting.
"You looked like you were in love with him."
She was about to protest when he shushed her.
"Oh, I know, my angel, that you play the comedy because you're afraid. He forced you into this state. You were his creature for so long… But soon you'll be free of him."
She nodded.
"Yes. I'll be free." Of you.
Yet, she had to play the game. Until she got these damned proofs he kept with him.
She felt herself shaking.
Anyway, she found it easier to play when there was some truth in it, though it wasn't about the same things she was talking about.
"Oh, the burden, the burden, to pretend to love, when I don't! I can't bear it!" She cried. "But it'd be ruined if I don't!"
"Oh, God, I want to take you right now."
Richard kissed her, forcing her lips apart, and she prevented herself from gagging. She closed her eyes, imagining it was Rhett. Yet, he tasted of something minty and sharp she did not like and the illusion did not last. She felt cold all over. Certainly, the draught would work soon. Oh, why wasn't it over already?
He began kissing her throat, his hands slowly trying to take her necklace off, and there she could not take it. She pushed him violently, and he fell back to the bed.
She saw him look at her with a deep arousal. He was about to jump on her, when suddenly, his eyes rolled and he fell back, hitting his head at the foot of the bed.
Surprised, she looked at him for a moment, then went closer. He was still breathing. Silently, she took the bottle and hesitated, afraid by the turn in her mind. Her hand gripped it, and she sighed. Then her mouth twitched in a malicious smile. She dropped the rest of its content on him, enjoying the stains in his nice, well-tailored suit. She put the bottle in his hand, praying he would wake up thinking he had drunk himself to sleep. She left the cape in memory, a coquetry she wanted to laugh over.
Swiftly, she ran through the room, rummaged his things until finally she found testimonies and incriminating paper-knife, still covered with a brownish stain, with the 'RKB' glaring down at her. She put the papers to the fire and put the knife in her reticule.
Looking at the fire eating it entirely, she felt relief washing over her. At least, that threat was gone. For now.
When it was finally done, she left the room and wandered. The corridors were surprisingly silent, and she found herself innerved by this. She went down the stairs, her ears attentive, waiting for the echoes of the party. Yet, she did not want to go back just yet. She felt filthy, stained by a touch she had not wanted, and she feared Rhett would see that and doubt. Then, all her reassurances would be for nothing.
One of the reunion rooms was opened and the light drew her in. It was empty, but calm, and she looked through the furniture. Mahogany tables and comfortable chairs with red velvet cushions. A big, large oak wardrobe with deep carvings of two lovers in an embrace, the stars above them tiny holes in the wood, yet that did not quite show at first glance what was inside. There was the painting of a landscape, with a soil so red it made her think of Tara. Oh, Tara, she thought. I'll come back soon. I'll come back home.
Steps echoed nearer and nearer, and masculine voices too. People were coming.
"Oh, great balls of fire!" She cursed, before hiding herself in the wardrobe. She felt her heart beating at the intrusion, not to mention the furniture was filled with pottery and vases and she feared she might stomp on one and reveal her hiding spot. She looked through the little holes on the wood and waited.
The men gathered around the table. They were four, one dark-haired man with a long face and strong chin, one sandy-haired one with a mouth that seemed like it was used to pout, one grey-haired she did not quite see, and a chestnut-haired one with a scar near his mouth that made it seem like he was smiling.
"Where is Richard? He was supposed to be there."
"With one of these ladies, certainly. I've heard there was one in particular he had his eye on."
"Shall we begin without him?"
"These Europeans. So lazy, so untrustworthy," The dark-haired man scoffed. "Let's proceed. He'll catch up. After all, he's new to this thing."
These men were Scallawags, the same she had once invited to her parties, and who had gathered around Rhett so thickly when they saw him. She remembered asking him about it, only to have this answer 'mere business, my pet.'
She tried to remember their names, but she couldn't. So she memorized their faces. Their attitudes.
But mostly their hair.
"There they are. The plans of Tara and Twelve Oaks, and where the petroleum has been spotted. They cost me quite a lot of money, but they are worth it."
Scarlett's eyes widened. Oh, so they truly existed!
"Have you seen them yet?"
"No, I just got them. My source was difficult to contact."
"Who was it?" The sandy-haired man said pleasantly. "You never told me that, old boy."
The dark-haired one chuckled.
"Some former slave, thinking he could have its share. I shut him up this morning."
Laughs followed this admission.
Yet, there was one that wasn't really laughing quite as well.
"What are you going to do about Mrs. Butler? She made quite a mess with her things with the orphanage and Belle's house. That's not good for money. Not to mention there's been a strange paper this morning. I'm sure it's her."
Scarlett froze. She knew this one. His back was on her, but now she knew. It was Hugh Olsen.
Oh, that damned turncoat!
Then, the end of his talk came to her, and she smiled. Pansy's article had been published. Good.
"She's Rhett's wife. She's going to be more difficult to shut up. Yet, he's going to leave soon. I've heard all of his things are at the station. No, gentlemen, we'll just have to wait. First, we'll need to go to that plantation to see where the plans lead to."
They were going to attack Tara soon… And the children were in Tara!
She had to get out of there. At all cost.
A sharp, loud noise rang, akin to an explosion, loud murmurs echoing as far at the room, and heads turned.
"What's that noise?"
"Let's see it," The dark-haired man said calmly. "Randall, stay here."
And they went. She held her breath.
Said Randall, visibly the sandy-haired one, was conveniently in front of the wardrobe. He was about to look at the papers. She opened the wardrobe and threw a vase at his head, hoping it might hit its target.
And it did.
His body fell on the floor and she felt nothing but the dizzying sensation of a prey aware she was being watched and trying to find a way to escape its grip.
Silently, she left her spot and put the plans in her reticule. Then she went away, following the bewildered crowd that was waiting out of the room.
She took refuge near the buffet, the smell of roast chicken strangely innerving for her nose.
She took a glass and gulped it down, wanting to erase the disgusting taste on her tongue. She took another. Yet it did nothing to appease her beating heart.
"There you are!" She heard Rhett calling her. "I fear there had been a little explosion, with the hapless Ashley Wilkes having drunk a little too much for his sake. So many glasses shattered. This man should not have come if he couldn't take it."
She grinned sheepishly. She put it down and straightened herself, yet the deep unease was still there.
"Oh, so that's what it was. What a waste."
He stared at her, as if surprised.
"Scarlett? Are you alright?" He took a step forward, grazing the lobe of her ear with the tip of his fingers, making her hair raise in a delight that seemed even more intense with the hurry of her flight. "I think you've lost an earring."
She froze, feeling cold all over. Instinctually, she turned her head in the direction of the room.
"Oh, no!"
"Do you want me to help you find it?"
Rhett's huge dark hand was on her and, remembering the moments ago when she was in another's arms, she startled and put down her glass. It fell back and he frowned.
She wetted her lips, trying to regain her composure.
"No!" She protested hurriedly. "I mean, it's alright. I did not like these earrings anyway."
"That's strange," He looked at her intensely, before grazing her cheekbone with his thumb. "You're shaking."
Oh, please, she thought with distress. Don't look at me like that. I love you and only you. I am your woman. Claim me. Take me into your arms. Make me forget. Please, please.
"I'm cold," She said, trying to control the emotion from her voice. The strangest thing was that she was not only filled with fear. The emotions in her were complex and, she felt, incompatible. And yet it was maybe what made them so strong. "Can we go home now? I don't feel so right."
She looked at him with hope in her eyes. Yet she could see the word "home" brought a strange expression on his face, before it disappeared and he examined her.
"So soon?" His brows lifted in surprise. "My, Scarlett, you look like a frightened cat! Your eyes…"
"Please, Rhett. It's our last night here…" She put a hand on his fist, her eyes pleading. In a belly she felt a slight burn, as if hot water had splattered her skin. The rest of her words came out hoarse. "And I… want to be with you."
He observed her, avidly as if he wanted to keep her face in memory, then nodded. His fist opened, and it shook like hers as their fingers intertwined, like some contagious feeling that was taking them both. Their arms linked and he nodded once again.
"Alright, honey. Let's escape this maddening crowd."
One hand was calmly holding hers, the other caressing it softly, and it appeased her considerably. She felt the cold leaving her little by little, but the confused feelings stayed, with a sudden giddiness entering the mix. She smiled widely, almost wanting to cry with relief.
Yes. Yes. Yes!
They did not even try to say goodbye to their hosts. It felt a bit like they were running away, with Rhett guiding her, and it seemed the idea came to them at the same time. A strange giggle left their mouths, like those of children that were trying to avoid a punishment after breaking rules. Eyebrows raised when they went past them, whispers about how queer it was, not only to see them having such an improper behavior (that wasn't that surprising at all), but for them to have any behavior at all together. Most shrugged, they never liked them anyway, but if they could disappear together, it could be better for the society. A little part, mainly old women, thought that fast piece of baggage that was Scarlett Butler had managed to get poor Captain Butler into her clutches again. But also, surprisingly, a considerable amount thought Scarlett, with her green dress and still youthful face looked like the Persephone carried away to the Hells by the dark Hades, a paganism that fascinated them as much as it frightened them.
It was only when Rhett and Scarlett reached the house that the voices behind them disappeared, with only the silence covering them like a comfortable blanket.
The house was dark, barely lit when they came back. Softly, Rhett took off the shawl from his wife's shoulders, leaving his hands wander almost solemnly down the arms. Her lids fluttered, her mouth half opened. He gulped and helped her ascend the stairs, the rhythm of his heart deafening.
She kept watching him, the poundings at her temples keeping her from thinking clearly. When he stopped, she did not understand at first. But then, when she turned her head, here it was. The door of the sanctuary.
"You're very silent, my dear," he remarked when she continued staring at it. "What are you thinking about?"
She turned her head towards him and decided.
She was going to tell him everything. He would know what to do. Together, they'd find a solution.
Yet, her desire was stronger than her fear. After all, she thought, with the plans gone, she had more time. More time to secure Rhett by her side. To have him completely, finally. She gulped, then pressed his hand against her lips, trying to convey her feelings to him, the love, the hope, the urgency… She felt herself shivering with the need for it.
"Scarlett… What is going on?"
Raising on her toes, she put her hands around him and kissed him, wanting to erase every trace of another on her lips. To leave only him, his touch, his taste. There was passion in it, a passion akin to despair with the fear of losing him, whether it was forever or only for a moment, and she felt him answer it with his own. She clung to him as if her arms could make him stay.
Then, lowering her eyes, she paused, wetting her lips to feel once again the taste of him, her arms slowly back to her side as she took two steps back. Swiftly, she opened the door. She waited, unsure, then turned towards the love of her life. She could see he had shoved once again his fists in the pockets of his trousers. She opened her mouth, wanting to erase the uncertainty and self-depreciative calculations she saw in his eyes. But she could not find the words. Her mouth closed. Her eyes turned downcast.
She was shaking. She was cold without him. She was hot with him. Her heart shook her with its incessant poundings, and she felt she might faint.
She had stepped into the flame, a fire they had teased over and over, and now she wanted to go back in. Fully, this time.
She finally raised her eyes.
She could not speak anymore, but she put out a hand towards him. There was still a tenseness in her, but it was softened by the glow in her eyes and the rosy flush on her cheeks.
"Rhett…!" She called pleadingly.
Looking at Rhett, she felt like she had stricken a string and he now snapped. His eyes were blazing, his fists clenching, then unclenching.
"Oh, you damned witch…!"
In a stride, he joined her and took another passionate kiss from her lips. His hands gathered at the small of her back, pressing her against his hard, exciting body. She felt his strength, overpowering her like a tide that caught her unaware, almost sweeping her off her feet. Her hands gripping her collar, she drew him inside.
Behind them, the door closed with a bang.
…
I'm currently writing a funny scene that will happen in a few chapters that I can't wait to share with you. Though I doubt very much Rhett will find it very funny at the time.
So now, who wants to be in the room where it happens? (kudos for the one who caught the reference )
Be prepared to scream. The next chapter is one I have prepared since the very beginning. It'll come very soon.