A/N Here is chapter two...I wrote a lot of this chapter from Rhett's perspective which is completely new for me so hopefully it works alright...
Scarlett sat at her vanity dressed in only her chemise staring at the sliver backed brush she held in her hand, not really seeing it at all. She was so deep in thought, replaying the afternoon over and over in her head, that she didn't even hear the knock on the door or it opening a moment later when she gave no response.
"Scarlett, why aren't you ready? It's time to leave," Rhett called from the doorway.
"What?" Scarlett asked in surprise, unsure of how long he had been standing there or how long she had been lost in thought.
"The reception...You know, the party you have been helping to plan," Rhett replied sarcastically.
"Oh," Scarlett responded quietly. She had been so thrown by what had happen at the Mill she had forgotten the reason she had even gone. "Actually Rhett, I have a bit of a headache, I think I might just stay home tonight."
"What?" Rhett asked, genuinely surprised. "Do you mean to tell me that Scarlett O'Hara Butler is actually passing up a rare opportunity to show off in front of all the old cats of Atlanta? Are you feeling ill my pet? Well I suppose you are, that is what you just told me, but it must be more serious than a mere headache to keep you away from your beloved Ashley."
Scarlett wasn't listening to what he said, but could gather the gist of it solely from his mocking tone and chose not to respond as she really had developed a headache and didn't feel like arguing.
Rhett was watching her expression in the mirror intently and for one of the few times since he had known her, didn't know quite what to make of it. She had obviously been in deep contemplation when he had walked in, something that was strange for Scarlett in of itself and now she didn't rise to his bait, not even when he took a jab at Ashley Wilkes. Something was going on with his wife and he was determined to find out what.
"No, I think we shall go to the reception tonight," Rhett announced a moment later figuring it would be the best place for him to watch her and find out what was wrong with her. "Every important Democrat in the city will be there tonight and it will be well of us to make an appearance, if only for Bonnie's sake."
"If you insist," Scarlett said simply, making no move to actually get ready.
Rhett saw this and walked into her closet to choose something for her to wear himself. After a moment of deliberation he choose a stunning, but surprisingly simple and tasteful royal blue and black evening gown.
"Here, wear this," he said tossing the dress onto her bed. "You might actually look the part of a lady tonight."
Scarlett just watched him in the mirror as he walked out of her room to get someone to help her dress.
They were both silent on the short ride to the Wilkes's home. Scarlett was staring out the window of the closed carriage and Rhett was observing his wife. As their destination came into view, Rhett watched as her whole demeanor, from her posture to her expression, change as she put on her public facade.
A gentle smile graced her lips as she allowed him to help her from the carriage, but her eyes remained troubled as she took his arm and they walked up the path to the front door. Upon entering they were greeted immediately by Melanie who rushed to Scarlett's side.
"Hello Scarlett darling, you look so beautiful tonight," Melanie complemented as she gave Scarlett a hug.
"Thank you Melly, you look lovely tonight as well," Scarlett replied sincerely as she stepped forward to return her embrace.
"Captain Butler, I'm so glad you have joined us this evening," Melanie greeted.
"The pleasure is all mine Mrs. Wilkes," Rhett said with a warm smile.
"Ashley dear, aren't you going to say hello?" Melanie asked as she turned around to see her husband standing a couple steps behind her.
"Oh course, hello Captain Butler, Scarlett," Ashley said awkwardly as he stepped forward to give Scarlett a brotherly kiss on the cheek.
However both men noticed, Ashley with hurt and guilt, Rhett with interest and curiosity, that Scarlett quickly backed away almost as soon as Ashley's lips brushed against her cheek, retreating back to her husband's side, then backing up yet another half pace when Ashley leaned in to shake Rhett's hand.
Luckily for Scarlett she was spared any further awkward conversation due to the fact that the Meades chose that moment to arrive and Melanie excused herself with promises to chat with Scarlett later in the night.
Rhett worked the room with ease, chatting with acquittances from the bank or the old guard families that now accepted him as one of their own, but all the while keeping one eye on his the green eyed minx he called his wife. She two worked the room like a seasoned professional and she too was keeping an eye on someone.
He could have dragged her out of the party by her hair when he first caught her watching Ashley Wilkes while she was talking to Maybelle Picard, but then he noticed the look in her eyes. It wasn't the usual lost puppy adoration but something distinctly different. It was with confusion and something else that if he had to put a word to it, he would call disenchantment and perhaps a twinge of...disappointment? But that simply made no sense and he decided that he must be misreading her expression
It also did not escape him that while she watched her beloved avidly, seemingly tracking all of his movements, she never made any attempt to get a moment alone with him or even talk to him at all. In fact it seemed like she made an effort to keep as far away from him as possible and still be in the same room.
He was even more confused when she approached him still early in the evening.
"Rhett?" she said, putting a small hand on his arm.
"Yes?" he responded, turning away from his conversation with old Mr. Merriwether to look down at her.
"My head is aching something awful," she told him. "Would you mind terribly if we went home early?"
He looked her up and down quickly, it was clear to him that she was lying but she didn't look completely well either. "Of course Scarlett," he said agreeably, before turning to Mr. Merriwether who gave a quick nod of approval and farewell. "Let's just say our goodbyes."
"I already made our excuses to Melly," Scarlett replied slipping her hand through his elbow. "We can just go."
"So my pet, are you going to tell me the real reason why we are on our way home at this early hour?" he questioned her once they were tucked away in their carriage and on the short ride home.
"I told you," she said turning her head from where she was staring out the window, "I have a headache."
Rhett didn't say anything but would be lying if he said he wasn't perplexed that Scarlett wanted to leave so early and in such a hurry. They rode the rest of the way in silence, Rhett watching Scarlett and Scarlett trying to pretend she didn't notice. She didn't even wait for Pork to come around to hand her out of the carriage before she hopped out on her own and practically fled up to her bedroom without a backwards glance. As he watched her climb the stairs Rhett decided that he was definitely in the need of a stiff drink before retiring.
As Rhett walked to his room after a few glasses of whiskey, he could hear Scarlett's heels pacing back and fourth behind her own closed bedroom door. He knew that she was probably itching for her nightly two and a half glasses of brandy, since she had only imbibed in one glass of port at the party and that she was waiting for him to go to bed, since she liked to pretend that he didn't know about her habit.
It was barely five minutes after he had closed his door, loud enough that she would hear, that he heard her door open as she flew down the stairs. He decided to give her a fifteen minute head start before following after her.
He stood silently in the door way as a single candle backlit her. She was sitting in the center of one of the long sides of the table with one arm extended flat and her head placed upon it so that she was shielding her face and the glass from his view in the door.
"What have I told you about drinking alone?" Rhett quipped from the doorway.
"That someone will always find out," she finished to his amusement.
However, Rhett's smirk quickly faded when she sat up and looked at him revealing...a half eaten piece of cake?
"But what's the policy on Red Velvet?" Scarlett asked.
"I don't suppose there is one," Rhett recovered after standing in stunned silence for a moment. "But I must admit I'm surprised my pet. Why the sudden and drastic change in your nightly consumption?"
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."
"I'm sure you do," Rhett replied, "but I will clarify if it makes you feel better. I am asking dear Scarlett, where your customary glass of brandy is?"
She gave him a hard look before sighing and declaring candidly, "Brandy doesn't exactly go with cake, now does it?"
Rhett chuckled as he admired her honesty. "No, I suppose it doesn't. Do you mind if I join you while I partake in a glass myself?" he asked, feeling the sudden desire for yet another glass, as he moved to the sideboard and poured himself a glass of the fine whiskey that was his personal preference.
"It's your house too," Scarlett replied with an indifferent shrug of her shoulders.
"So you still haven't told me, why the cake?"
"I wanted it, is there something wrong with that?" she said defensively, further piquing Rhett's curiosity.
What Rhett couldn't know, was that this was a habit reemerging from the time when Scarlett was a young girl growing up in Clayton County. Whenever she was upset or just needed some time to think away from her sisters, or even Mammy, she would steal away into the kitchen where the cook, an old darky woman named Delilah, would cut her a big piece of what ever cake she had on hand and leave her alone to sit at the kitchen table so that she could sit and eat in peace.
She had had to abandon this practice during the war out of necessity and afterwards she had switched from baked goods to hard liquor as her choice of catharsis. But tonight was different, she had been pacing back and forth in her room with every intention of downing half a decanter of brandy before she went to sleep, but her stomach revolted at the very thought. Then she remembered the red velvet cake that the children had enjoyed as dessert earlier that day.
Rhett didn't respond, but simply watched his wife with a critical eye, as he might watch a stranger. They sat together as Rhett drank one glass and then another, but Scarlett found that she couldn't enjoy her cake or do her thinking under his scrutinizing and ever constant gaze.
Her chair screeched as the legs scratched off of the luxurious rug and across the wood floor as she stood up suddenly, surprising them both.
"I'm going to bed," she announced. "Well...goodnight."
She walked past him on her way out of the dining room, but paused once she had reached the doorway. Rhett could tell from her posture that she was hesitating about something, but decided to wait in silence until she made up her mind.
After a moment Scarlett turned around and with a purpose in her step and her shoulders squared, she marched back into the dining room, picked up her half eaten piece of cake and walked back out of the room without another glance at Rhett.
Rhett waited until he heard her door close before he poured himself yet another glass of whiskey. He didn't know what to think as he watched the amber liquid as he swirled it in his glass. He had always prided himself on the fact that he knew his wife better than she knew herself and that he always knew what she would do and say in any given situation before even she did. But today he could no more predict her than he could a stranger. It was like she came back from the mill this afternoon a different person.
"The mill..." he groaned as he gave himself a mental slap for not realizing it earlier, "of course, something happened at the mill today." But what could have happened to make Scarlett act the way she was acting, was what he couldn't figure out. However, he was determined to talk to her the next day and find out.
A/N So what did you all think? I thought it would be fun to play on the actual events of the book and twist them around to fit the new circumstances...the next chapter will be more of Scarlett's POV and explain just what she is thinking about all of this and what conclusions she is coming too about the mill incident...