Chapter 3: Cold Indecency
Just after the New Year 1862, Scarlett stepped off the train in Atlanta to a startling sight. The small town she remembered had come of age as a bustling, booming city. There were soldiers everywhere, outfitted in pristine grey uniforms pressed to crisp corners. She was certain the soldiers would be happy to entertain her in this exciting city. What she had not prepared for was the never-ending discussion of the war. That every social event revolved around the cause or that she would spend more time rolling bandages for the "dashing soldiers" than flirting and dancing with them.
Because Melanie and her Aunt Pittypat were still in mourning for Charles, Scarlett was unable to accept callers in their home. A month into her stay, and the only socialization Scarlett had enjoyed had been with the ladies' clubs, knitting or sewing for the cause, while they all sat around praising the Confederacy and the bravery of their soldiers.
Despite the war dominating every moment of her life, Scarlett was enjoying her time in Atlanta. Melanie was nothing if not a loyal companion, and Scarlett was relieved to be able to imitate her behavior when they were sitting with the Old Cats. She did not fit in with the dedicated young ladies and the pompous matrons who would have loved to see Scarlett make a misstep so they could gossip about her impropriety. She tried to be a great lady like her mother, but no matter how hard Scarlett tried, she always seemed to do something to gain the women's disdain.
On a cold, but clear day in February Scarlett had finally escaped the glorious cause and was enjoying an afternoon walking through the shops. She couldn't describe what she was doing as shopping exactly, because there was nothing for her to buy. She had gone out that day knowing she would never come across enough fabric for a new dress but had hoped she would be able to find some scraps or ribbon to spruce up her old ones. Apparently, the blockade had made a devastating impact on women's wear.
"Having trouble finding something?" a deep voice came from behind her.
Scarlett cursed the sudden flutter in her chest. She turned, surprised to see Rhett Butler. "Why Rhett! I never thought I'd see you in here pursuing the women's department." She smiled coyly at him, "Although, come to think of it, I can't say I'm surprised."
Rhett chuckled, "Well, I must admit the shopping is a little disappointing right now," he looked around at the barren shop, "I don't know how I'll ever find something that fits."
Scarlett didn't even try to hide her giggle, "Why Captain Butler, I had no idea!" She exclaimed in mock horror.
Rhett beamed at the woman who had colored his thoughts since summer. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. He smiled indulgently, prepared to have a great deal of fun with the young Southern bell. "I'm glad to see you decided to come to Atlanta, Scarlett. Has it been as exciting as you hoped?"
"No." She pouted, "I'm staying with my sister-in-law and her aunt, and they're in mourning, so I can't have any fun at all."
"Oh, and how are you enjoying your brother's wife's company?" he asked, baiting her.
"Melly makes as good of a companion as you would imagine. It's impossibly dull in a house in mourning. I can't accept callers or go to parties because I don't have a chaperone, but at least I'm in Atlanta and not in the country."
"And I'm glad you're here. I must agree Atlanta was feeling fairly tedious, but I have suddenly found a renewed interest in it."
Scarlett smiled slyly, confident she had him in the palm of her hand.
"What is it that has you out on such a dreary day?" Rhett asked, weary of the look on her face.
"Oh, well, I was looking for some ribbons or scraps of fabric to brighten my old dresses, but this stupid blockade seems to have starved Atlanta of every inch of it!"
"Yes, I'm afraid you're not likely to find any luxuries in Atlanta for some time. That is unless you know where to look."
Scarlett's eyes brightened, "Oh, Rhett! Do you know where to get fabric?" she asked in an excited whisper, not wanting anyone to overhear his source.
Rhett bent down to her level and whispered secretively, "Well, I am a blockade runner."
She rolled her eyes, unamused, causing Rhett to laugh at her, which only annoyed her more.
"Now, now, don't get your feathers all ruffled. I can't say whether or not I have any fabric per se, but I do know where to get the thickest hot chocolate in the South if you would like to accompany me."
"Well…" Scarlett contemplated just how angry she was with him before answering, "I suppose I have time."
"Alright then, shall we, Miss O'Hara?" He asked, offering his arm.
Scarlett's afternoon with Rhett was the most fun she'd had since coming to Atlanta. He would not settle for anything less than the best, which was evident from his heavy wool coat to the tiny cakes he ordered to go with their hot chocolate.
She would have happily sat across from him all day listening to his stories of blockade running. They made him sound like a dashing pirate outsmarting the Union army. He was possibly the worldliest man she'd ever met, and she loved his appreciation for the finer things in life as well as the respect he garnered from everyone around him. Once it started to get dark, Scarlett realized how late it was and that Melly and Pity Pat were probably worrying.
"When will you be back in Atlanta, Rhett?" Scarlett asked on the steps of Pitty's house.
"Not for a few months, maybe June or July. I'll be heading to Europe to sell the cotton I've picked up, and then I'll go to New York. There are plenty of Northerners happy to make a profit selling to the South, and I'm happy to profit from their lacks patriotism."
Scarlett pouted flirtatiously, "But that's so long! What will I possibly do while you're gone?"
Rhett laughed, "Probably roll bandages and knit sweaters. Not nearly as exciting as blockade running."
"There's no need to make fun of me! It's not my fault this war is ruining all the fun!" She hissed quietly.
"There's no excitement here for you, Scarlett. There are so many things to see – the French Quarter of New Orleans, the Palace of Versailles in France. A girl like you could make a lot out of this world."
"Oh, Rhett, you can't imagine what I'd give to see all of that." She sighed with a dreamy smile.
"You can see it all, Scarlett. Come with me." He said, wrapping his arm around her waist in the dark corner of the porch. He leaned down, a breath away from her lips. "I'll show it all to you." he whispered promisingly.
Scarlett's knees were weak, and she wrapped her arms around his neck to steady herself, "I'd like that very much, Rhett." She said before he finally claimed her lips.
She had kissed dozens of boys, but Rhett's kiss was like nothing she had ever experienced. His lips were warm and possessive on hers, and she could feel his hands searing through her dress. When he pulled away from her, she let out a breath of disappointment before her eyes slowly fluttered open.
"I'm leaving on the 8 a.m. train, Scarlett. Should I buy a ticket for you?" He asked, his breath fanning across her face.
"Rhett, are you asking me to marry you?" She asked, a mixture of excitement and anticipation welling up inside her.
He released her suddenly and laughed so loudly she shrank back, "No, my dear, I'm not a marrying man."
Scarlett gasped, "But – but – what – "
"I'm asking you to accompany me on my trip – as my mistress." He explained explicitly.
Mistress? She was insulted – or at least she should have been, but in that first startled moment, all she felt was anger that he would think she would stoop to such a crude, disgusting level. "And what would that get me except a passel of brats?"
Rhett's laughter boomed, "Oh, hush up! Pitty will hear you," Scarlett hissed.
"That's why I like you! You are the only frank woman I know, the only woman who looks on the practical side of matters without clouding the issue with mouthings about sin and morality. Any other woman would have swooned first and then thrown me off her porch."
"I will throw you off the porch," she shouted, not caring if Melanie or the Meades, down the street, did hear her. "Get out of here! How dare you say such things to me! What have I ever done to encourage you—to make you suppose...Get out of here and don't ever come back here. I mean it! Don't you ever come back here thinking I'll forgive you. I'll - I'll tell Ashley and he'll kill you!"
"Oh, I'll be back. Until July, my dear." He picked up his hat and bowed, and she saw in the light of the lamp that his teeth were showing in a smile beneath his mustache. He was not ashamed, he was amused at what she had said, and he was watching her with alert interest.
As soon as Scarlett had stepped through the door at Pitty Pat's house, the woman came rushing into the hallway, wringing her handkerchief. "Oh Scarlett, tell me it isn't true! Mrs. Meriwether came by. She said you were dining with Captain Butler! In public, no less, for everyone to see! Oh my, when I think of you staying under my roof – why, everyone is going to blame me for not keeping an eye on you. But how can I when I'm in mourning? Oh my, what will they all think?"
"Now, now, Aunt Pitty," Melanie said as she came into the hallway. She looked at Scarlett, who immediately assumed a downcast look of guilt. "I'm sure Scarlett did not mean to do anything wrong. Isn't that right, Scarlett dear?" Melly said, putting her arm around her sister-in-law.
Scarlett nodded her head, "We happened to meet while I was shopping, and he asked me to join him for a cup of hot chocolate. I didn't think there was anything wrong with visiting with Captain Butler. My mother allowed him to call on me at Tara."
Melly nodded her head, "There, Auntie, you see? If Mother sees nothing wrong visiting with Captain Butler, then surely there's nothing wrong."
Pitty Pat looked hesitant, "Well, I guess if Mrs. O'Hara has given her blessing…" she trailed off.
Melly stepped away from Scarlett and up to her aunt, "Well then, not that that is settled, why don't you go rest before dinner? I know this has been a difficult evening for you, auntie."
Pitty Pat nodded her head, making her fat curls bob around her cheeks, "Yes, yes I – I think I shall. I am feeling a bit faint. I may not be down for dinner."
When Pitty had disappeared upstairs, Scarlett turned to Melanie. Why had she come to her defense? Scarlett couldn't think of any way Melanie would benefit by protecting Scarlett from the Old Guard's gossip.
"Thank you, Melly," Scarlett said spontaneously.
Melanie smiled sweetly, "Of course, Scarlett, but you didn't do anything wrong. I simply helped you explain that to Aunt Pitty."
Scarlett nodded her head, still very confused.