I just realized I was a few words away from finishing that one, and I thought to myself, why not add it now?
Enjoy the extra chapter, and the beginning of Rhett's "sufferings" :)
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1858, Savannah
Slipping discreetly from the hotel room she shared with a few comrades, Scarlett made sure she was not noticed as she tried to look through the darkness at the numbers on the doors. Her hood tightly lowered on her face, she still stopped a few times, hoping to escape the eventual professors that might try to catch her unaware.
What had been a simple outing granted by the Academy was proving even more interesting than it already was, and she couldn't wait to see the outcome of it.
Rhett was there, in the hotel. She had learned it from Felicity Hunter, from her years, who had learned it from her brother who was sojourning in it.
She had said nothing as she had heard it, but swiftly, a plan had taken place in her mind.
If he would not come to see her, she would come to him, and surprise him. And what a good surprise it would be! Then, most certainly, she would manage to persuade him to stay a bit longer, for Pa would be coming on the morrow to see her. She could already imagine the pleasant day it would be, as finally they would reunite, like Alexandre Dumas' three Musketeers.
321. Here it was. She smoothed the lines of her cape and dress, her heart jumping in anticipation. She knocked. Once, twice. Nothing. She leaned, trying to hear a thing. But there was nothing but this simple door made of oak, and the light stamping her feet made on the thick green carpet as she tried to bear the wait.
But then, she realized. Of course, he wasn't in his room! It was far too early for that!
She smiled, deciding to go downstairs, before faltering as she remembered three of her instructors might be there as well, and if they saw her… Oh, what an embarrassment it would be!
Yet, she decided to do so anyway, for the prize was far greater than the danger. It was with a little voice though she asked about him to one of the butlers, pretending to be his sister.
"Mister Butler is in the red room," He said as he guided her to a waiting room. "Would you like me to signal your presence, miss?"
With wide eyes, she shook her head, her face flustered with eagerness. She could not focus on anything, other than the pleasant picture in her mind.
"No, I want to make a surprise. I'll wait."
The man looked at her queerly, and she flustered under his scrutiny. He was about to wait with her in the room, she realized, so she quickly dismissed him, asking him for a glass of lemonade as she waited.
The door of the red room was ajar, and she was about to slip in, when the sound of two glasses tinkling against one another stopped her.
He was not alone.
"Love?" She heard his voice, that was sharper and bitterer than she remembered, and she tilted her head, trying to see better in the darkness of the room. "Oh, but love is a concept for little girls, you see, an illusion among many to make them forget that life is hard and that they could have a voice different from their husband's. As for the man… Well, I do say it's quite a pretty excuse for adventures and a few tumbles at the end of way."
There, a woman with shockingly red hair leaned on him on the sofa, her hand laying confidently on his wrist. Scarlett could not see all of her face, but there was a hint of a smile she wanted to scratch off as soon as she saw it.
"I've heard there's one little girl you've seen and written to often these few years…"
There was a blandness suddenly in his face that made her remember the day he left. He had seemed so distant then, when before his face had always been open and true with her. Her heart froze, then jumped anxiously as she awaited his next words.
"Oh, yes. A rash, ignorant little girl, but I must admit she amuses me quite a lot. And you know what they say, there is a pleasure in corrupting innocence. The wolf is never so hungry than when a lamb lays before his eyes, and Scarlett is quite the willing lamb to be led astray."
"You mean…"
He raised abruptly, an offended scowl on his face breaking the smooth mask of disinterest.
"Of course not! I'm a man, and I'm not one to lust after children, what do you think?" His glare was hard for a moment and the woman looked at him stupidly, as if she had never seen him like that. He was like one of the devils in the books that Mammy used to describe, when she talked of the punishments that awaited the misbehaving girls. But just as suddenly he changed, the lines on his brow smoothing as he made a dismissal gesture. "Oh, but then I understand, with you being as you are, the idea came to your mind. But no, I'm not as devious as that. I talk of the pleasure of shaping a girl to be the perfect lady, a little peasant girl becoming a success and marrying much higher than people would have expected her to. A girl far more successful than any young lady with a full Charlestonian pedigree as my father would want my sister to be. It's all a bet, you see, and what a joke it will be when he realizes that my influence, far from being a hindrance, actually managed to go much further than his own expectations!"
"Poor girl! You're a right rascal, Rhett Butler!" Her laugh came out of her indecent red lips, as if broken in half. She raised her glass at him before taking a sip. "But beware, you may create the monster that might lead you to the altar!"
This was said by pure coquetry and was not expecting any other answer than a laugh and a swift denial.
"Little Scarlett? By God, not a chance. She is a piece in a game of chess that I started, and I certainly like to play with her. But I am neither a marrying man, nor a fool to get lost in my own game."
It's all a game, Scarlett remembered. All a game…
Something broke, and she felt a sharp pain, like an arrow piercing her chest. She hiccoughed and sobbed, before silently leaving the waiting room. She felt like Bluebeard's wife, having discovered a mystery she was not supposed to uncover, and now what she had seen and heard was stuck in her mind, as heavy and taunting as the stained key in the story.
Rest did not find her as she managed to go back to her room. She turned and turned, but she was not to reach it. And when she finally raised, she realized that not only she suffered from the lack of it, her mind buzzing achingly and stomach squeezing uneasily, but there was also another thing that awaited her as she finally looked at herself in the mirror.
Her pointed chin was red and yellow from the horror of a brand-new pimple.
She let out a sharp shriek that failed to awake her companions, so used they were of her impulsive and often loud reactions. She breathed in and out, panicked, and almost made the terrible mistake to squeeze it, until she finally remembered Mammy's words, saying it might make a mark that would scar her for life.
She did not want that. Not at all. She had to be pretty and smiling for her father. She tried to do it, but it did not satisfy her. So, she called one of the handmaidens and dressed quietly, pondering deeply what she could not help but think about. Yet, the wound was still so very raw for her to properly know how to act.
She was very grave and calm as they led her to the visiting room, and the instructor escorting her was very much astonished by such a lack of energy the girl displayed. There, she seemed more reachable, and the woman felt a tinge of sympathy as she tried to offer some words of comfort.
Scarlett did not hear it though. Her eyes laid, unfocused, on the piano of the room. But she waited, waited until the instructor finally left her, and that her figure was replaced with the homely one of Gerald O'Hara, who greeted her warmly with an embrace she gave back tenfold, so needy her heart was of comfort and love.
He said many insignificant things, did not comment on her pimple, but instead made a little joke on her dress, promising her to buy another one more colorful and softer. She joyfully agreed to that, happy that with him she could forget all her sorrows and think of pleasanter things.
Thus, she was not surprised when she saw a twinkle in his eyes as he looked at her, and smiled in that way he thought mysterious, but that Scarlett knew only meant he was about to deliver her with a costly present.
"Look what I managed to sneak in into me suitcase, Puss!"
He looked so very satisfied with himself she thought he was bringing her a puppy, and she prepared to coo and scream in delight, before jumping into his arms, as he expected her to. She shook her head fondly. Gifts were sacred to Gerald O'Hara, and he would not be content otherwise.
And anyway, she always delighted in pleasing him that way. Pa always brought the best gifts, for he always knew what she loved most.
Pa's smile widened as his complexion reddened with the anticipation of the pleasure he was to bring to his favorite daughter.
"Ta-da!"
As he opened the door more, she finally saw that someone was following him. Someone tall, and dark, and looking at her with a smile as he bowed lightly at her, almost like a dance master. His Panama hat was raised from his head in a way that mocked slightly the gallantry such a gesture was usually full of. His eyes were dancing with good humor, so far from the way they had glinted yesterday.
"Hello, little miss."
She froze, feeling faint. All she could muster was a weak, insipid: "Oh… Rhett."
Oh, why did it have to happen today, when she was still so very ugly with that pimple, and her dress was so plain, so dull!
Unaware, Gerald grinned.
"Well, Puss, isn't it a shock?"
"Oh, sure, it is… I certainly did not expect it."
She opened her mouth to say something pleasant, yet she could not find it. So, she shut it, bit her lip, and lowered her gaze.
"It's shock, she'll be good in a few," Gerald whispered reassuringly to his companion.
Rhett nodded, his eyes not leaving the young girl as she fidgeted a little, unsure as she was. He went closer to her, and she flinched a little when she felt the warmth of his big, brown hand on hers. He squatted in front of her, but still he felt like a giant, and she could not escape him.
"Scarlett?" Said he, surprised. "My, you're quite silent. And here I thought you might be happy to see me there!"
She gathered her hands at the end of her bodice, where she could feel the comforting solidity of her crinoline under the thick fabric of her dress. He tilted his head, perplexed.
"Well, at least I am happy to see you. I really missed you, little one."
There was a genuineness in his face that made her heart leap, and she looked at him sharply, her eyes bright and eager on her pale face.
Oh, did you? She wanted to ask, and she was even more irritated with herself when she realized if she said it now, there would be no trace of sarcasm, but a desperate eagerness that felt like delivering her bleeding heart on a platter. She lowered her gaze and fingered a fold in her dress.
"I… I'm glad to see you."
And to her surprise, she realized she really was. She had waited for so long for his coming, and now that he was here, she did not know what to say. The words she had wanted to utter had frozen overnight, and she could not get them out. Instead, they had gathered like wetted semolina in her throat, and she was choking on them.
With a finger, he teased her chin until she raised her eyes on him begrudgingly.
"Well?"
She could have said she had heard it all. She would have wanted him to reassure her, to say it was all just a silly dream, and she would have believed it. But instead, she blurted out insignificant things that made her ashamed as she uttered them.
"Well… I've got a pimple, and my dress is simple, and I can't bear it!"
He took a step back, his eyes mocking her a little. She reddened at this, yet she knew she had it coming.
"Is that so? No other complexity explaining the paleness of that face?"
She lowered her gaze once more.
"Please, don't laugh at me."
"I don't," He said softly, caressing her hair as he kissed her brow in a brotherly way that almost made her cry. "There, there. It is only a pimple. It'll disappear in no time."
She closed her eyes at his tenderness, wondering how he could be so cruel one moment, and then the pillar of strength and comfort she desperately needed to lean on on the other.
She bit her underlip, trying to prevent the tears from coming.
"No, no, don't go crying on my behalf, I don't deserve such thing," He lightly chided. "Smile to me, so at least I can fool myself pretending you're happy to see me. You know I care about you, don't you? Oh, I know you doubt it, for you wanted me to prevent your leaving from home. That might be why you're so upset to see me now, when it's been such a long time since we've met one another. Yet, it's all for your good. You'll see later, when you're grown up. Everything that is done for you is to your interests, and you'll realize it when you find yourself in a great house you can call your home, with many rich friends and luxury to keep you happy and well."
"I don't want many friends, who would want me to change and be another thing than what I am," She snapped with a low, almost furious voice. "And I don't want another home, nor luxury. I want to be with those who matter to me, and who'll accept me for me!"
Something shifted in his face, and his expression softened.
"You prefer gold to glitter, then?" He said quietly. "I would have thought you would have grown to love what is ephemeral and pleasant. It's good. I'm… glad you do."
There was something in his voice, as if he was hurt, but she didn't care. She didn't want to care.
It's your fault, she wanted to say. It's your fault I can't be happy with that. Now, I know it doesn't last, and I can't fool myself pretending things are here when they're not. You've encouraged me to look for answers, and now I did. I cannot turn back now.
She was about to say it, but her father's booming voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Now, Puss, what if ye played something for us?
And she did. But the music she played was too angry and sharp, and Rhett soon intervened with an upset scowl on his face;
"No, no, don't they teach you anything in that academy of yours?"
She turned to him, irritated, her arms crossing over herself.
"Then show me if you know better!"
His gaze looked at her sharply, before he complied. He winced for a moment, then composed himself, his back straightening in an elegant pause as he sat beside her and began. There, she realized he had an excellent bass, deep and warm, and it made her want to lean on him and listen as long as he wanted to play. Yet, the keys were off, though she could see there was a logic in the way they were chosen.
She blinked.
"You… You don't know how to play!"
He let out a sheepish smile.
"A lack among many qualities, I assure you. And it's mostly because I cared not to try it."
She could not help but giggle, but her gaze was sharp as she examined him. The scowl had disappeared then, and he seemed relieved to see her in a happy mood.
Oh, so he thought she was a puppet on his strings, uh? She would show him she was more than that. She would not be led astray from what she truly wanted, and what she truly wanted at that moment was to hurt him as much as he had hurt her, and thwart him because her fate was her own. She would be a success, yes. But in her own terms.
A quizzed look came to his face as he realized how she looked at him, but she smiled, a wicked little smile that dug dimples on her cheeks as she dismissed his hands on the piano to take his place.
"Here, Rhett. That's how it goes…"
There, her song was more controlled, and she felt more confident as she sang it. She was determined to lead this dance, and she would.