I am so pleased with my whole little end of chapter scene and anyone that doesn't like it, sorry but there's no popping this warm feeling of utter god in the box.
Scarlett hummed as she looked through her wardrobe. Tonight no more black and white ensembles for the Widow Robiliard. No, she was Scarlett Butler and she wanted to be stunning for him. Finally her eyes lit on a midnight blue watered silk gown. Tiny black pearls had been attached with silver thread. It looked like groups of stars glowing in a silk sky. She would wear her hair long; he loved her hair long. He loved her. She hugged the dress to herself disregarding the possibility that she might wrinkle it. This would be a night they would never forget.
"Scarlett?"
Scarlett turned to find Bertie leaning in the doorway that connected their suites. He smiled at her, but it was a smile that never reached his eyes.
"You look as though you've lost your best friend."
"I have."
Rhett finished shaving, and shrugged on his dinner jacket. In the interior pocket of his jacket was Scarlett's wedding ring. Cecile, his mother's housekeeper had found it in the ashes of the guest room Scarlett had stayed in while she had been in Charleston. He assumed she'd thrown it into the fireplace after reading his letter. He wanted nothing more than to steal away to a justice and be married as soon as possible. Well remarried, he at the very least wanted them to share in a ceremony in which both of them were there in the moment, in love with one another.
He finally had everything he wanted from life; Scarlett, a child to lavish love on, and the wealth to enjoy everything life has to offer. He knew it wouldn't be a fairy tale. He knew that there would be disagreements and hurt feelings. Of course there would be misunderstandings or doubts, but after everything they'd been through to be together he'd never walk away from her again.
"Bertie who do you mean, Lord Robert?"
"Scarlett, Alexandra sent me a telegram and two hours ago she arrived here."
"Here, as in here at Havenhurst?"
Bertie nodded. "She's in my mother's suite," he paused measuring his words and finally finding the right ones he continued. "She wanted these rooms but I told her that evicting you from them this week would cause a scandal."
"Your wife occupying your mistresses' rooms, yes that would rock the foundations of the monarchy." Scarlett replied with more than a touch of irony.
"Scarlett, you should sit, I should sit. I, good God she has gone to the extreme."
Scarlett hurried to his side and led him over to the settee in front of her fireplace. "Start from the beginning."
"Alexandra has gone over my head, indeed she's gone over my mother's head, though I never thought she had it in her." He trailed off and stared into the flames.
"Bertie how is it possible to go over your mother's head? She's the Queen of Great Britain, she rules a nation?"
"She went to Prime Minster Gladstone."
"That's the man that supported the South during the war?"
"Yes, he's very popular in the house and among the common man on the street. They call him The People's William. Alexandra told him that our marriage hasn't been consummated."
"But nearly all of Europe knows that. How could your own Prime Minster not know."
"You're half right, all of Europe suspects, but neither Alexandra nor I have ever actually come forward and substantiated that rumor. She's threatening to go to the House of Lords and testify." His voice rose in barely controlled rage at his estranged wife's duplicity. "Scarlett I'll be struck from the Civil list. If that happens the Lords can charge me with undermining the succession. I'll be passed over in favor of my brother Alfie."
"What does she want from you?"
"A child. She's laid the following conditions before me, I am to put you aside and cohabitate with her. When she produces a male heir to the throne," he laughed sardonically, "then I may return to you. She assumes you'll need a home and a pension so she's convinced Gladstone to offer you a lifetime residence at Osborne House. I must begin to publicly, but again discreetly begin to circulate the truth about Bess. At least the truth as Alexandra perceives it. She doesn't want a child thought to be my bastard to one day be included in family occasions."
"Bertie…"
"I promised you I would always watch over you and Bess, you're my friend, indeed you and Bess are all the light in my world, how can I turn you out?"
"You don't have to, Rhett isn't married, Anne or his sister wrote me that letter. He almost married her but then it turned out that she was fast."
"Fast?" he asked smiling in spite of the current tension that was evident in his facial expression.
"A charming old Southern turn of phrase meaning she's a whore."
He grinned, "That is charming. So what are your plans then? Do you have any?"
"I'm going to take Rhett to see Bess tomorrow, which, if Alexandra wants me gone then I suppose that's for the best."
"What about your things? You have personal items strewn through nine estates."
"There only things, and anyway you can have them packed and sent on to Osborne House."
"Osborne House? Does that mean you're going to stay in England?"
"Well I certainly would like too, though I am going to let Rhett pressure me into returning to Charleston for a short visit. After all every man needs small victories in marriage to feel vindicated. I hate Charleston and I've no doubt I'll be cut dead, but Rhett's right, if we don't go back and show that Rhett and I are married and that we were never divorced people will believe Bess to be a bastard. That leads me to another problem, but I have friends in very high places so no doubt it can be fixed easily."
"The fact that in the registry and on her certificate of birth Bess is listed as Elizabeth Victoria Robiliard?"
"How very astute of you. Yes the fact that Bess isn't even under my real maiden name had been troubling me for sometime."
"I'll contact the P.M. Monday and tell him that the situation needs to be rectified immediately, will you call her Butler."
"Yes."
"Well then all I have to say is that it's about time."
"What do you mean?"
"Don't be obtuse with me Madame Robiliard, you know exactly what I mean. You love that man and I've watched you," he smiled and took her hands in his, "You are a rare soul and I've been privileged to spend this last year and a half with you. I love you and Bess. No matter what I'll never forget you and if you ever need me I'll be there with all the resources I can muster."
"I love you too, you and your family have been so good to me. I wouldn't have survived the last year without all of you. You took me in, made me a part of a family. No one judged me or shamed me. No one expected me to be any more than I was. I am so painfully grateful for everything you've done for my daughter and me."
The two friends sat before the fire for a time simply and in silence, just enjoying the close comfort that can only be shared with a kindred spirit.
The foyer was abuzz with gossip; word that The Princess of Wales was in residence had spread like wild fire. Early speculation said that Madame Robiliard was to be turned out with a fantastic pension and a palatal home. The Ton wondered at the complete details of the agreement, most importantly what would happen to Scarlett's daughter? If the Prince wasn't the child's father Madame Robiliard would have simply been dismissed without a further thought. No, they told one another, an estate where the child had her nursery was the one that Scarlett had supposedly been offered.
The Prince and Princess of Wales stood just before the doors to the dinning room in the same place that the Prince and Scarlett had occupied the night before. The Prince had no facial expression. His eyes were flat and his lips drawn into a straight line. He clearly projected the image of a man attempting to perform his assigned role, royal heir.
Alexandra smiled graciously as various guests came to greet them. She was triumphant and stood tall. She'd vanquished the Prince and sent his whore from their lives. If he could love that strumpet then it was obvious in time he'd come to have some sort of feeling for her. She'd finally dismissed the rumors about the Prince's sexual appetites. No one that was as obsessed with a woman as the Prince was with Scarlett could prefer men, it was now clear to her that it had simply been malicious slander aimed at undermining the Prince's reputation.
None of that mattered though, she had won and Scarlett Robiliard was clearly the loser.
The gentleman caller announced each name as that guest reached the middle platform dividing the grand staircase into two tiers. The gentry occasionally directed their eyes to the stairs when the name was unfamiliar or if it was someone with a hint of scandal attached. Gossip was just one more major component of an enjoyable house party.
Rhett stood at the bottom of the staircase; a well-placed bribe of a few pounds had bought him the cooperation of a footman who'd brought him downstairs through a back staircase
That exited by a door in the India Room. He had wanted to avoid the crush at the top of the stairs. The continuous speculation about Scarlett was maddening. Nearly everyone believed Scarlett to be the Prince's soon to be cast off bed partner. They spoke of her bastard child and the pension Scarlett had been promised. On that last count Rhett was already adamant. No wife of a Butler was going to take a cash settlement for a job well done, or in this case undone.
"Lady Eleanor Marchope," announced the gentleman caller as an older woman descended the stair. After Lady Marchope there was a significant pause. The woman in the blue ball gown had escaped the notice of the general assembly because until the next moment none of them had seen her in any clothes that weren't black save her riding pinks.
"Mrs. Scarlett Butler." Scarlett stood on the platform for a heartbeat longer that was generally considered necessary as all conversation in the room dwindled and then died. The eyes of over a hundred people were trained on her. The flaming candles in the Lachine Chandler hanging from the apex of the dome overhead illuminated her like a spotlight; the beading on her gown caught the light and refracted it. She looked like a shimmering goddess clothed in a gown made from a piece of the night sky. Her hair was artfully curled and left unbound like a maid on her way to the Alter. She wore around her neck a heavy filigree pendent that cradled a flawless sapphire, her birthing gift from the Queen. She was regal, elegant, and as fresh as untrodden snow.
She scanned the room; never acknowledging the silence, then the rising roar of conversation her appearance had ignited. Finally her eyes lit on Rhett, who raised his champagne flute in a movement the was barely perceivable in a silent salute to both her beauty and bravery. She descended the remaining stairs like a warship in sail, full of motion and intent purpose. Bertie glanced at Alexandra and smiled cruelly. He took a step forward and her hand caught his sleeve but the look in his eyes caused her to draw back in brief panic.
She could only glare at his broad back as he made his way through the parting crush to the base of the stairs. The room was silent once again, holding it's collective breath to see what would happen next.
Scarlett had rested on the last step so that she and the Prince were of an equal height. They solemnly regarded each other before the expressions changed to ones of distracted mirth. They were the focus of the small universe they occupied and they knew it to their great amusement. No one in the room dared blink, least they missed a pivotal moment in the history of the house of Saxe-Coberg-Gotha.
The Prince's left eyelid dropped briefly in a quick wink that conveyed one thought "Go alone with me." He drew himself to his full height and standing ramrod tall he took two steps backward in a motion reminiscent of a courtier paying homage to his Queen. Then sharply he clicked his heels before bending from the waist to brush a kiss on her proffered hand. "Mrs. Butler."
Scarlett took hold of his hand and gently drew him onto the step beside her. They again looked at one another then Scarlett smiled slightly and nodded.
Bertie turned to face the room and he spoke loudly commanding complete attention, in the current situation, however; he already had the attention of everyone in the room.
"My friends, may I be so bold as to ask you all to join me in a toast to my dear friend Scarlett Robiliard Butler. Last night she made a startling discovery. Her husband, who had been presumed dead in a disaster at sea, had in fact been grievously injured and as soon as he had recovered enough to travel he hired investigators to find her. He finally located her in France, but there the trail grew cold."
Scarlett had to hold her breath to keep from laughing. The look on Rhett's face was classic Rhett. His lips twisted in a sardonic grin, mocking the assembled company's looks of naïve acceptance of the Prince's explanation. The Ton was swept up in the unbelievable romance and drama of Scarlett's completely fabricated mysterious past.
Bertie took in the crowd's response to his previous statement and decided to continue in the same vein. "In an ironic twist of fate Scarlett had inherited her uncle's estate in France, but under the provisions of his will she had to resume her maiden name. At the time she was carrying my Goddaughter, Elizabeth. Her uncle had hoped the child would be a boy and if Scarlett bore her maiden name then her son would have been born to a Robiliard. He would have carried on the name. Unfortunately Scarlett's husband was unaware of this and found only the end of a trail gone cold. He came to England to see friends and in the course of conversation he heard Scarlett's name. Scarlett being such an uncommon first name and the coincidence of her surname being the same as his wife's family he hired a Bow Street runner who was able to conclude that Scarlett Robiliard was once Scarlett Butler. Once he learned where she was he came here immediately to inform her that the reports of his untimely demise were greatly exaggerated."
He turned to search out Rhett. Their eyes met across the crowded foyer and Rhett gave an exaggerated shrug of ascent.
"They've now been reunited and Captain Butler is delighted to learn of his child, my beloved godchild Elizabeth Victoria." He gestured to Rhett, "Captain Butler, would you join us?"
Rhett nodded graciously and made his way through the now completely stunned throng. When he reached the stairs he took Scarlett's hand and smiled blandly. The footman had circulated the room and provided everyone with a Champagne flute.
Bertie turned slightly toward the Butler's "Ladies and Gentleman, I give you Scarlett and Rhett Butler, I wish them love. My friends," he raised his glass high as did everyone in the room eager to follow suit, "To the Butler's."
The entire assembled gentry chorused their Prince "To the Butler's," rang out through the room echoing in the enormous expanse of hall and it's domed ceiling.