Chapter 11
Rhett hated her Peachtree mansion and now Scarlett began to hate it too. When she thought about the house, the rich red carpets seemed to pall in favour of the wide, sunlit floorboards of her plantation home. The many-layered window drapes looked cumbersome and confining. Simple, elegant portieres would do. And the design of the house! Heavens! What good would a ballroom do? Nobody danced or gave parties. They were all whispering together over someone called Joseph Brooks. Scarlett was very sure Atlanta would be buzzing with excitement too.
Suddenly it became clear to her. Rhett was a morbidly frank but during the blockade, but instead of bringing more guns and leather, he brought ball gowns and hoop skirts. He was indirectly boosting the ego of the fair Southland. And even after the war, when he entered food speculation, he later on gave away his ill-gotten gold. It was as if he used money to mingle in society. When she will do the same too.
The plan grew riskier and Scarlett liked it. This time she didn't care what others thought. She only cared about Rhett.
That Peachtree mansion had to be re-built. Rhett hated it and even the children never enjoyed the extravagancies. She would build a respectable Colonial house. But inside-
Scarlett smiled to herself as she mediated her plan. If she was right, this business about Brooks would take a few months to come to fruition. The house must be ready by then. She will fight tooth and nail to get back into the good books of Atlanta Society. She would plunge into the world of Atlanta matrons and swim hard, even if felt unbearably suffocating. She would do anything for Rhett.
The Butler family was exiting from the church one Sunday morning and Mr. Addison found Mrs. Scarlett Butler, waiting near the pews by the doorway, a ravishing smile on her face. He looked behind him once and realized with a start that the smile was meant for him and walked up to her.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Addison." said Scarlett, putting out a neatly gloved hand. Her eyelashes, long and black, seemed to flutter so demurely that Addison did not notice the sharp eyes that glinted underneath. "How do you do?"
"I do very well, thank you." replied Addison, crisply. "I heard your visit to Charleston was coming to an end. I am rather sorry to see you go. I fear we would miss your cheerful company."
Smiled smiled brightly at this. "Oh yes, I have enjoyed my stay too. But I do have this urgent business to attend to in Atlanta. You see, my husband and I-"
Scarlett flushed lightly and gently tilted her head.
"Yes?" asked Addison in a gentler tone.
"My husband and I were married in 1868 and we both wanted to live in Atlanta. And while I.. that is, I don't know much about houses or architecture. Mrs. Butler tells me you are the finest architect in Charleston?"
Addison flushed with pleasure from the soles of his feet to the top of his head and Scarlett thought he looked rather like a horse that had eaten a sugar lump. "Well, I must say the compliment is very generous. I do- I am an architect but I do not know if I deserve the title of being the finest in Charleston-"
"She also told me you were a very modest man-"
Addison did not speak for he was too busy basking in the glory of Scarlett's compliments to make any intelligent reply.
"Well, anyway, let me get to these unpleasant matters. I am sorry, Mr. Addison, I know this is usually the subject of men and I could hardly sum up the courage to speak to you. I am unworthy to speak but the circumstance has forced my hand.. er.. my voice-"
"Oh please, do not be so formal, Mrs. Butler. Do speak your mind. I assure you, I do understand your uneasiness. So, speak freely,madam and I shall listen in all seriousness."
"Oh you are most kind." Scarlett licked her lips like a child about to stutteringly recite Bible verses on a Sunday school stage. She spoke,
"My husband wanted to build a mansion for us at Peachtree lane. And you do know that I have lived in a plantation my whole life- just a plain, simple country girl." Scarlett paused here to look down, as if she were mildly embarrassed. "And well.. when Rhett built the house-"
Here she stopped and twisted the handkerchief in her hands.
"It wasn't like your plantation house?" offered Mr. Addison, with a smile.
"Yes!" sighed Scarlett, as if in the greatest relief that someone understood the delicacy of her feelings. "And you know, my little child, my little Bonnie died in that house.. and my husband has gone abroad for rest cures. Bonnie's death affected him terribly. So, I want you to come with me, assess the architecture of the house and perhaps we can demolish it and build a simple Colonnial house."
Addison looked taken aback. He hadn't expected this. "Err.. Mrs. Butler, I assure you, you do have my deepest sympathies. No woman could have endured as much as you did. But, how could I possibly alter the house which your husband has built? It wouldn't be right. I couldn't-"
"Oh, you don't understand. Rhett hates the house too. He did it in a whim. You have seen the way he is during family meetings and parties-"
Addison chewed his lip knowingly. "A Colonial house,eh? A thing like that would cost a lot of money-"
"Rhett will pay for it!"
"And who will discuss the plans I make?"
"My dear brother, Ashley Wilkes. He was a great war veteran-"
"Oh, I know all about Wilkes. A quiet, well-learned man. We were in a troop together."
"Oh, Mr. Addison, you are a great war veteran too! I had quite forgotten. How impertinent of me to have mentioned Ashley."
"Not at all, Mrs. Butler. Not at all."
"So, would you come with me when I travel to Atlanta?"
Addison looked shocked once again. "What now?"
"The ship leaves on Monday. My children and I are in cabin A. I could get you a place, my husband has these privileges you know-"
"Well..I.." Addison stammered. Then he said the woeful hope in Scarlett's eyes. Suddenly he felt a sense of protection creeping over him. Here was a poor woman who had lost her child in a terrible accident and was probably remodelling the house to ward off evil spirits. Yes, women were silly like that.
He smiled. "Rest assured, Mrs. Butler. I will"