Chapter Nine
March '75
It was on the day of Baby Butler's first birthday celebration that Scarlett finally made herself confess everything to Mrs. Roberts-Sarah- as she'd been ordered time and time again to call her.
"Dear Lord, you're not serious?" Sarah looked at her with shock, but no judgment.
"He's as alive as you and I- or at least he was when last I heard."
"A man that leaves you with two children at home and another one on the way is not a man at all."
"He didn't know. Well- about the baby at least, of course."
Sarah took in another breath of air. "You'll have told him since, though?"
Scarlett shook her head. "Every time I start to write the letter, I can't go through with it. You don't understand. Mr. Roberts- Ian- he loves you." She could see it every time the couple looked at each other. They were older than her, closer to Rhett's age, but she'd instantly connected to the couple, and she was constantly grateful for Sarah's knowledge now that Mammy was truly gone.
She'd received a twice forwarded letter from Suellen saying that Mammy had taken ill several months after returning to Tara. She'd never quite recovered and had passed in January. Scarlett felt true regret that Mammy never knew about Baby B. She hadn't told anyone back home for fear of word getting to Rhett. Though she supposed Mammy knew now, and she also knew exactly what she'd say to her. It was very similar to what Sarah said next.
"A man deserves to know if he has a child, Scarlett. We women, we're the lucky ones. There's never any doubt for us." Scarlett hadn't ever considered that, not truly at least. A man could go his whole life without knowing he had a child.
"What if he takes him?"
"You're a strong woman, Scarlett. I've no doubt that you can make sure nothing happens if you don't want it to."
Scarlett wanted to say that she hadn't stopped him before, but she kept silent. Had she really fought that hard to keep Bonnie by her? She's spent the entire time since her death thinking she had, but now that she thought about it, what had she done? Not enough, she thought, that was clear.
Exactly three weeks had passed since Rhett's suggestion, and life at the Butler estate was uneventful. Scarlett, still confined to her room, was growing more and more unsettled as the days passed. Rhett spent every spare moment in the vicinity of Baby B, although she noted he was actively trying to engage with Wade and Ella more. Ella was warming to him once more, but Wade remained cool and polite. B was still very much his mother's son. Preferring to stay near her and fussing when Rhett took him away from her for more than an hour. Scarlett wasn't ashamed to admit that his reaction pleased her.
Rhett was clearly besotted, which she supposed shouldn't have surprised her. He'd always loved babies. To his credit, he seemed to respect that the Baby wanted her, and he was the one to bring the Baby to her for his nightly feeding. Despite the incident that led to this, Baby B didn't nurse often any more, usually sticking only to a nighttime feed, or when he was particularly upset.
When it came to conversation about the baby, and things he'd done or experienced over the last year, Rhett was an avid listener and conversationalist. Yet whenever Scarlett attempted to speak to him about anything else- be it his time away, or the book he was currently reading, he quickly changed the topic.
Since Ireland, Scarlett went to bed early, usually just after all the children were in bed. It had been easier for her when she hadn't had a maid or a nurse for the children. She simply stayed awake when they were, and slept when they did. The habit had continued on her return to Atlanta.
Rhett did not have any such habit. She couldn't fathom how he managed to get up every night, as he left most evenings and didn't return until the morning. Still, he managed to have breakfast with her and the children every morning, albeit in a slightly quieter, and certainly tired, mood. The house had changed routines in order to accommodate Scarlett's desire to be near the family, but also her need to rest her broken ankle. A small table was moved into her room, and the morning meal was served there- it was unorthodox, but it gave Scarlett the touch of normalcy she was missing.
Scarlett had been on the verge several times of asking him where he'd been, or who he'd seen, but she refrained. The fragile truce between them was far from perfect, but it was less painful than what they'd had before. Though she wasn't sure if she preferred it to his complete absence. On most days she was grateful to have him in the home again- even hopeful that one day he'd give them another chance. On other days she thought about returning to Ireland without him; life was simpler there.
One afternoon, with the older children downstairs, and Rhett sitting on the floor telling a story to Baby B, the maid brought up a stack of letters. Most, it turned out, were addressed to Rhett. He took them quickly and sat them aside, out of her view. She wondered what secrets were hidden inside them, and the possibilities made her stomach churn. She glanced at the two letters in her lap. The first was from Suellen, which Scarlett placed on her bedside table without looking at it. Suellen's letters were all painfully dull. While that used to only mildly annoy her, now that Scarlett's own life was confined to one room, she didn't want to hear about anything else dreary. The second letter was addressed to her, and although there was no name on the outside to indicate who it was from, she recognized the neat scrawl. Duncan had finally written to her.
Post Note: Sorry, I know this one is a bit short, but it was either cut it here, or make a really long chapter, so I decided to do the shop. And... of course I love a good cliffhanger.
Thank you all who have read and reviewed! I know all "us" authors say it all the time, but really- thank you. I love all of your ideas and suggestions. Sometimes I have something in my mind, and than you mention something that makes it even better. I love this little community.