I think I borrowed a line from MM lol you know it when you read it. Oh and and a vauge shadow from the terrible movie adaption of Scarlett who to credit for that I don't know but it's a thought not a scene so I'm not going to sweat it. Three chapters left and then I am starting a different story that is boiling in my brain and needs to get out. Don't worry it's GWTW. It'll be mature so look for it in the M cat.
They sat at the head table. Scarlett and Bertie in their usual chairs and their spouses one on either side. The entire room was employing every iota of good breeding polished by the life long practice of not noticing the outrageous exploits of royalty. Could the handsome man sitting next to Scarlett really be her long lost husband? Some whispered reminders to their companions about how earlier rumors about Scarlett suggested she was the widow of a gentleman pirate. After all Madame had come from France and it was well known that, despite France's joint venture with the British navy to rid European waters of pirates, many Captains used France as a home base before heading into the Mediterranean. Perhaps Madame's husband had been taken prisoner and really had been presumed dead.
Other tables speculated that the incredibly handsome man claiming to be Scarlett's husband was in fact a friend of the Prince's. Maybe he was masquerading as Scarlett's husband so she could leave royal service in a seemly manner.
Lettie and John Moreland were themselves deep in conversation. "Can you believe it, I knew they were previously acquainted. The second we were first received by Scarlett there was obviously something between them, isn't it all romantic," concluded Lettie sighing deeply.
John snorted "A fine example Rhett sets for you, now I'll never be able to convince you that things like this simply don't happen outside of half-penny novellas." His face was serious but his playful tone belied his expression. He was glad for his friend who had spoke only last night of how much he had once loved Scarlett. Now it appeared that that love had never really died off but instead had been slumbering waiting to be coaxed back into existence. He laughed aloud at his inner musings. He was growing as bad as his sister with romantic imagery. "At any rate this will turn the girls at your school pea green with envy when you relate the tale as a first hand observer."
Lettie grinned, it was a most unladylike smile but her brother was in such a jovial mood he only returned it instead of giving his usual criticism. "And to think that Eleanor was bragging about simply being at an at home afternoon where Madame played the piano, won't she just want to crawl under her covers with envy."
Scarlett and Bertie were so pleased with themselves they could barely keep their amusement from bubbling over into hilarity.
Alexandra would only look down at her plate. 'If only she weren't the Princess of Wales, oh what she'd do to her husbands pretty whore', she thought furiously. They couldn't keep their eyes off of one another and that creature's "husband" seemed to find the whole incident extremely funny.
"So you'll be leaving England, soon," shesaid pointedly.
"We haven't really decided your highness, we are so delighted to have found one another again that we haven't given a great deal of thought to where we shall reside."
"No doubt you'll be eager to return to France?" she continued to press.
"No your highness, we defiantly won't return to France."
"Enough talk of leaving, tonight we're simply happy that our good friend has been reunited with her husband," said Bertie absently twirling a spoon between his thumb and pointer finger.
"The royal we, not on my account Bertie," teased Scarlett.
"Scarlett now owns the lease on Osborne House so I assume the Butler's will take up residency there," continued Bertie absently.
"We haven't completely finalized our plans your highness," commented Rhett politely.
The rest of dinner progressed in the same strained bursts of conversation for over an hour. After dinner Scarlett and Rhett excused themselves and returned to the sanctuary of Scarlett's suite.
"That was on par with Chinese water torture, my love," said Rhett as he tossed his evening jacket on the back of a chair.
Scarlett only nodded dumbly as she walked through the room absently touching various knickknacks as she made her way to the dressing room that she'd converted into a nursery for Bess. She opened the door and sighed deeply. Rhett seated himself before the fire after lighting a thin cigar. He could tell she needed some time to adjust to the changes the last few days had wrought and he didn't want to push her to let him in any further than she'd currently let him in.
"Would you like to see Bess' nursery?"
Rhett didn't answer but instead rose and joined her in the doorway. The small cozy room contained a round crib that was trimmed in rich rose silk. The coverlet was a piece of eyelet backed by more rose silk. The crib was fit for a baby empress and he felt a small thrill of pleasure at the fact that his daughter had been so clearly worshiped, not only by Scarlett but also by everyone around her.
"Was this a dressing room?"
"Yes," replied Scarlett opening a dresser drawer to remove a small rosewood box.
Rhett nodded deep in thought, imagine Scarlett forgoing fashion to put her child first. Snapping himself out of his reflections he glanced at the wooden box she was holding. "What isthat?"
"Things I always take with me," she paused thoughtfully, clearly she didn't want to talk but then she continued, "A lock of Ella's hair and another of Bonnie's, locks of my parents hair; those are tied together, some photographs, Melly's cross. Bertie calls it the box macabre," she laughed shortly, "Just think a few short years ago I wouldn't have even known what macabre meant let alone that it's part of an allegory for death."
"You've changed a great deal, it's going to be one of the greatest pleasures of my life to get to know you all over again," replied Rhett taking the box from her hands and setting it down reverently on top of the dresser.
She turned to face him. "I won't be treated like a pet or a toy kept for your amusement. I won't let you play with me as a doll that resumes her place on the playroom shelf when you're finished. I've grown up, I can't become a parody of who I've become to please anyone, not even you."
"I have something for you," said Rhett quietly as he reached into his pocket and between two fingers he removed a band of gold.
Her eyebrows rose upward in surprise. "It's my ring, where did you find it?"
"It was right where you left it."
Scarlett colored prettily. "Oh."
"I thought you might like it back."
Scarlett offered her hand and Rhett took it, gently sliding her wedding band back on the finger it had once occupied. They stood there for a time both studying her hand.
"I'm never going to lose you again," said Rhett drawing her towards him.
"Do you remember what you said to me when you asked me to marry you?"
Rhett smiled thinking about that afternoon. He had taken a good deal of time that morning pacing his hotel room while debating with himself. The Widow Kennedy would come to the realization that Frank had left her a very well to do young woman, and without him nagging her on the merits of conscientious business practices she would no doubt make the small fortune Frank had left her swell if left to her own devices. That's why he had to ask her to marry him immediately. The longer he left her, the more resolved she would become to living as her own master.
Or worse, she would meet someone that would sweep her off her feet and he'd have to try to outlive yet another one of her husbands.
No, there was no other solution but to go that very day and tell her they were going to be married.
He looked down at Scarlett and moved a lock of her hair off her forehead. "I said many things to you that day."
She smiled back, coy as a virgin on her wedding night "You said you weren't in love with me, and if you were, I would be the last person you'd ever tell."
He began to laugh till finally he was breathless. It wasn't cold or cruel laughter, but rather the laughter of a master who'd finally been bested by his favorite pupil. "I do remember telling you that, I believe I also told you that if you ever did find the man who really loved you you'd break his heart, my darling, cruel, destructive little cat."
She stood there waiting patiently.
Wrapping his arms even tighter around her waist he pulled her flush against him. Leaning forward to whisper in her ear, his mustache tickled the outer curve of her ear making her shiver lightly, expectantly.
"God help me Scarlett O'Hara, I love you, and I always have ever since the day you threw that damn vase in the library at Twelve Oaks."
She wriggled away a little so she could cup his face in her hands "I don't know when I started to love you Rhett Butler, I wish I did. All I know is that you are the only person in the world that knows the real me. I love you so much that the thought of ever having to be without you again hurts me; the thought of it makes me truly ill. It doesn't matter where we live as long as we love one another."
Later they talked quietly while ensconced in her large bed with the curtains drawn. Rhett told her about Charleston in the last two years. "Sally has continued to champion your cause, in fact once Anne ran off she began to state loudly that she suspect Anne had something to do with you just disappearing."
"Sally suggested that Anne murdered me?"
"No, no. That would be a little too outrageous. But she has suggested that Anne might have filled your head with falsehoods in an attempt to chase you out of Charleston."
Scarlett laughed softly as she snuggled closer to him. "And you of course stood up immediately and said I wrote my wife a note saying that you were 'sorry you let yourself give into to your desire for me.' Or something to that effect"
"I was desolate with grief at losing my wife because of Anne's machinations," he replied with exaggerated priggishness.
Out of nowhere she said quietly "I've thought about it, we'll take Bess to Charleston, to visit, not stay. I can't live there, it would smother me, but we'll take her to Charleston and then we'll decide where to go next."
He kissed her hand with a gesture that could have been considered courtly if they weren't lying beneath the covers in her enormous bed. "Thank you, I appreciate it greatly. I want you to know, it won't be like Atlanta…I'm going to make it clear that a slight against you is a slight against me. I won't tolerate anyone saying anything against you."
She snuggled deeper in to the pillows "Doesn't matter," she yawned behind her hand,her wedding band now encircled her slender ring finger. She was rapidly falling asleep and it was becoming a strain to pay attention to Rhett but the sound of his voice in bed next to her after so many years was just enough to keep her interest.
"One thing still perplexes me?"
"Only one thing," mumbled Scarlett from a half doze.
"When I went to look for you in Atlanta your saloon wasn't the Girl of the Period anymore. It was Merewether's, I didn't have time to stop because I was," he paused for a moment embarrassed by his consuming need to find her before she committed herself to any man that wasn't himself, but the need to tell her the truth won out, "I was desperate to find you because I didn't want you to…"
She laughed without opening her eyes "Marry someone else?"
"Yes, anyway is that any relation to the austere Mrs. Dolly Merewether?"
"Yes."
Rhett laughed, "Well, who did you sell it to."
"I didn't sell it."
He laughed thinking she was teasing him. "Did you lose it in a card game?" he asked jovially.
"No, I gave it to Grandpa Merewether."
"You gave your saloon to Dolly Merewether's father in law," he asked his voice incredulous, "I don't understand? Why would you do something like that?"
Scarlett sighed and sat up a little; drawing the covers just over her breasts. "Because after I had donated the house to the Nuns Mrs. Merewether took me to task in front of Ella, Wade, Uncle Henry, and Grandpa Merewether. She saw me donating the house to be named in Melly's honor as some sort of an attempt to win over Ashley and she decided it was her responsibility to call me to task. She said that me giving away the house had to have an ulterior motive and then she said I didn't have a giving bone in my body. I couldn't help it, I wanted to shut that old cow up just once in my life, so I turned to Grandpa Merewether and asked him if he'd like the Saloon."
"You didn't."
"I did, I told him that he could have it as long as he was willing to leave it in trust to Wade since it was built on the property Charles left me."
"And he agreed?"
"Of course he did, last I heard from Uncle Henry the old man is having the time of his life. He lives above the place and has never felt better in his life. Dolly Merewether is in a fit to be tied even now and Uncle Henry actually lowered himself to repeat gossip to me. Apparently the rumor is that I've gotten religion and that's why I gave away the house and the saloon. If the people of Atlanta love criticizing a body most than laughing is a close second. It turns out none of the old peahens ever really approved of how Mrs. Merewether always picked on Grandpa Merewether. They think it's wonderful that Grandpa is having a grand time in his own establishment. It's given him a renewed sense of worth and I think that's just fine. Time also does a job of rearranging things in people's minds. All in all he thinks I would be welcome in Atlanta again."
She slid back down into the recesses of the feather mattress and turned her back to him. Her lips curved into a smile as she commented lightly "But, to paraphrase a very wise man I once knew, frankly I don't give a damn."
He laughed heartily at her brass. "You, Mrs. Butler, are amazing."
She rolled over to face him again, a devilish smile shaping her full lips still swollen from his earlier kisses "Why sir," she drawled, "Flattery will get you everywhere."