Author's note: When I began writing this story in 2008, the book "Rhett Butler's People" had just been published. I moved to Charleston that year, so I fully embraced the backstory of Rhett's childhood and family that took place there. I have fully assimilated Rhett's relationship with his mother, siblings, and Belle from that book into my own vision of GWtW, and the discussion in this chapter of Rosemary's daughter is based on events of that book.
Chapter 16: The Calm Before the Storm
The next morning Scarlett was hesitant to leave the sanctuary they had created in Rhett's hotel room, but with the promise of a wedding present, she was ready to race out the door.
"You already gave me a wedding present!" she exclaimed as he helped her down from the carriage.
"That was a 'before the wedding' present," he said, holding her hand to his heart. "This is an 'after the wedding' present."
Scarlett smiled up at him, "Well, when you put it that way," she smiled indulgently, then looked up at the house they had stopped in front of. "Where are we?"
"We're home, darling."
Scarlett's eyes grew wide, "What-did you? Oh, Rhett!" she exclaimed. Throwing her arms around his neck, she brazenly kissed him in the middle of the walkway. "How did you do it so quickly?" she asked as they walked into the house.
"Honestly, my dear wife, you wound me!" he said, feigning offense. "You have so little faith in me. When have I ever failed to attain something I wanted?" He eyed her suggestively and gave her a lewd grin that told her he knew what she looked like without her shimmy.
Scarlett beamed proudly, quickly growing to enjoy the new intimacy of their banter, "Of course, honey. I sincerely apologize for my lack of faith in you," she said, unable to keep a straight face.
"That's more like it," he said nodding his head approvingly. Becoming serious again, he said, "It was actually very easy to acquire the house and its furnishings. There are very few people with money these days, and I would imagine the previous owner thought he was pulling the wool over my eyes selling me a house that will probably be blown up in another month or two."
Scarlett looked at him, horrified, "Rhett! What are you saying?"
"This house is only a temporary residence, my dear, one that cost me little more than an extended hotel stay. Look at it this way," he said bluntly. "After our house is burned to the ground, it will be a lovely track of land to build whatever you like."
Scarlett looked at him with doubt that the Yankees would get hold of Atlanta, "Well then, I shan't get too attached to it, shall I?"
"That's my girl! Now, how would you like to see the lovely dresses I've had made for the lady of the house?" he asked, grinning widely.
"Oh, Rhett!" she exclaimed, running into the house with her laughing husband following behind.
Once Rhett had pointed her in the right direction, Scarlett began pulling day dresses, gowns, and lingerie out of the dresser drawers, marveling at each subsequent one before tossing it into a pile on the bed and pulling out the next.
"Oh, Rhett!" she exclaimed like a child, hugging a cream-colored walking dress. "They're perfect! They're the most lovely things!" She spun around, watching the skirt twirl around her.
Rhett sat down in a chair by the window and propped an ankle on his knee, preparing to enjoy the show. "Why don't you ah…" he gave her a devilish grin, "try something on?"
She smiled at him excitedly and unabashedly began to strip out of her makeshift Second Day dress. Pushing the frayed gown down to the floor, she stepped out of it. Pulling her underskirts out, she lifted a bright apple green walking dress over her head and pranced over to stand in front of Rhett proudly. "What do you think?" she asked, swaying her skirts from side to side.
He sat up and waved out the match he had lit his cigar with, "Just awful!" he exclaimed.
Her face fell, and looking down at the dress, she asked, "Why, what's the matter?"
Rhett's white teeth shone from under his closely clipped mustache, and he stood up. Walking over to a side table, he picked something up. "You're missing this," he said, opening the box. Inside was the beautiful emerald solitaire necklace he'd tried to get her attention with a few weeks earlier. "That is, if you want it this time."
Scarlett clapped her hands excitedly, "Is it really for me?"
He pulled out the glittering thing and carelessly tossed the box onto the chair. "I can't think of any other green-eyed vixens I'd be buying jewelry for."
She smiled up at him as he placed the chain around her neck, "No, and if there were, I'd have to scratch her eyes out," she said with a sugary sweet smile.
Rhett threw back his head and laughed loudly, then gathered her into his arms and let her thank him for all the dresses – right on top of them.
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The first days of their marriage were marred only by the shells pouring into Atlanta. They ripped off buildings and killed people in their homes. Atlanta was hemmed in on three sides, and the city was under siege. The town was crowded with soldiers, swamped with wounded, jammed with refugees and the batteries were visible from the edges of town.
Scarlett, however, could not have been more pleased with herself and her new position as Mrs. Scarlett Butler. She spent many days at the hospital treating the unending parade of wounded and dying. She also spent time with Melanie, who had relocated to a guest room in the Butler's house. She was weak and always tired, and Scarlett wanted to strangle her brother for putting Melanie in that position.
On a warm day in early August, Scarlett sat on the roof of a store with several other young girls watching the fighting. She was wearing one of her new dresses, a pale rose-colored day dress, and had her skirts spread around her as perfect as a painting with a matching parasol shadowing her face from the burning August sun. She made quite the picture and was reveling in the envy of seemingly every girl in town, each of which she knew was pea green with envy over her gorgeous new gowns and her even more gorgeous husband.
She was reveling in the attention and jealousy when she heard an angry voice from the ground below, "Scarlett Butler!"
Her eyes grew wide, "Uh oh." She stood up and ran over to the edge of the roof. Taking on an innocent expression, she called down, "Why Rhett, whatever are you doing here?"
"Do you want the Yankees shooting at you? Get down off that roof!"
Looking like a child called home from a play date, Scarlett pouted, "But Rhett, everyone's up here!"
He looked at her sternly and warned, "Scarlett..."
She paused a moment, then turned away from the edge with a swoosh of her skirts. When she emerged from the store, she looked up at Rhett in the sun. "I don't see why I had to come down! Everyone is up there watching the troops."
Rhett looked around at the curious eyes on the street and pulled Scarlett by the arm into the alleyway. "Don't you understand? They're shooting into the city!" he said in a harsh whisper, pulling on her arm.
"Rhett, don't be silly. The Yankees will never get us," she said flippantly, trying to wiggle her arm out of his grasp. It was starting to hurt.
"People are dying in their homes, Scarlett. Don't you understand? I won't have you parading around up on a roof waiting to get blown to pieces. You're such a stupid child!"
Scarlett bristled at his angry words and opened her mouth but was interrupted by a loud screeching noise. Before she knew what had happened, Rhett had grabbed her around the waist and threw her to the ground next to the building, ducking her head into his chest. A loud explosion followed, then the screams of terrified people in the streets and women clambering to get down from the roof above.
Startled and terrified, Scarlett clung to the lapels of Rhett's jacket as he helped her to her feet.
"Are you alright?" he asked gently, reassuringly running his hands all over her and instantly forgetting their argument.
Scarlett held on to him tightly and buried her head in his chest, "Oh, Rhett!" she cried, unable to manage anything else.
He wrapped his arms tighter around her and quieted her like a child, "It's alright now. We'll go home, alright?"
She nodded but would not step out of his arms as he began to walk her back to the safety of their home.
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As loud as the days were, the nights were silent. After dark the cannon and gunfire quieted and the town was left too terrified to speak above a whisper and even the crickets seemed scared into silence.
After becoming so accustomed to the noise during the day, the night was unsettling. Long after they had turned into bed that night, Scarlett stood at the window of their bedroom looking at the camp fires just past the edge of town. The explosions scared her, and it seemed a day didn't go by that she didn't run into Melanie's room and throw herself on the bed and the girls would burying their heads in the pillows certain that they were about to die. She was angry with Melanie for having a stupid baby. If it weren't for the silly thing Scarlett would be a Tara where the Yankees were five miles away, not in Atlanta where they were right upon the city sending shells in every day.
She relaxed noticeably when Rhett wrapped his strong, warm arms around her. "Darling, come back to bed," he murmured into her ear.
She leaned back against his chest, but did not move. "I couldn't sleep," she said, not looking away from the fires in the distance. "Rhett…What's going to happen?" she asked quietly.
"Well, you're going to climb into bed and then I'll take full advantage of you and-"
"No, I mean, what's going to happen to Atlanta…" she paused for a moment before admitting softly, "When they leave us to the Yankees?"
Rhett turned her away from the window and looked down at her, questioning only for a moment how much he would tell her, "I'd imagine the same thing that happened in Charleston."
"But the Yankees don't have Charleston…" she said, confused.
"No, not yet, but the city is rubble," he got a far off look in his eyes that Scarlett had never seen before.
"Rhett…" she tried, but he continued.
"They'll continue to fire into the city. In a few more days they'll have the railroad, and we'll be trapped. No food or supplies coming in, and no one leaving. Panic is not a pretty sight, my dear."
Scarlett tensed at his harsh words, and her heart pounded worriedly in the quiet darkness of their bedroom, "Is that what it is like in Charleston?" she asked trying to bring him back to her from that far away city.
"Charleston is not like Atlanta." He stated, letting go of her and walking across the room.
Feeling every inch of the distance between them, Scarlett wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly cold. "Tell me what it's like, Rhett," she ordered in a strong voice.
He didn't turn to look at her, and for a minute, she thought Rhett would ignore her demand. "Charleston is not like Atlanta," he repeated. "The people in Charleston have lived there for generations. They've been Southerners since before the term meant anything. It's where the war started, and they will be bitter long after it's over. Atlanta is a new city where the 'Old Guard' doesn't know what 'society' means."
"Why Rhett, I never knew you were such a snob," she joked awkwardly, trying to lighten his dark mood.
He turned to her at that, but his expression didn't change, "Charleston can hold on with the Yankees firing at them every day. The Cause is more than a pretty term to them. Atlanta hasn't felt the war yet, not like Charleston has. Atlanta doesn't know what it's like to eat a horse after it's been blown away by Yankee fire. Atlanta hasn't felt the fear that your house could be blown to pieces around you at any moment," his eyes had taken on a gleaming light, and he looked like a man possessed. "Atlanta hasn't had to bury its children who were murdered out in the streets with their nurses."
Scarlett stood gaping at her husband's impassioned words, "Rhett…I've never – I mean, you've never talked this way before."
He walked back to her and grabbed her tightly, "When I saw you on that roof this morning, I -" his voice broke and he released her as quickly as he'd taken hold of her. He turned away and ran a hand through his bed-tussled hair.
Scarlett did not recognize this man. Her husband was a man who was always in control of his emotions, always knew what to say, and preferred flippant sarcasm to seriousness. This man was passionate and unsure.
"Meg died in a church," he said cryptically. "Her nurse was trying to take her home when the firing started and got scared. They found them both in the churchyard."
Scarlett watched her husband closely, then asked quietly, "Who is - was Meg?"
He turned to her and blinked himself out of the trance he had been in. Taking control of his emotions, he stepped closer to her but did not move to touch her. "Meg was my little niece. My sister Rosemary's daughter."
"When?"
"A year ago tomorrow - well, today now."
"You never said anything." She stated. All this time and he had never mentioned the little girl or her tragic death.
He smiled sadly, almost smirking at her, "No, I wouldn't, would I?"
Scarlett reached out to her husband hesitantly and placed her hand on his arm, "Why wouldn't-" she stopped when she heard a soft knock at the door downstairs. Sighing at the interruption of another soldier on their doorstep, she went in search of a dress to throw on. "Will you go find out what he wants?" she asked, "I'll be down in a minute to find something for him to eat."
Grateful for the interruption, Rhett bowed to his wife and dressed quickly before leaving the room.
When Scarlett found Rhett and the stranger, they were sitting in the rocking chairs on the porch, discussing the latest developments intently. She handed the man a plate and glass. Rhett moved to stand, offering her his seat, but she shook her head and leaned against the porch railing.
Scarlett examined the boy closely in the dark, and her brows drew together, realizing that he couldn't be more than 13-years old. His chin was stubble-free, and his gangly legs far too long for his britches. He balanced the plate on his bony knees and dug into his food eagerly, shoveling every bite into his mouth. His hair was a straggly blonde, and Scarlett felt a lump in her throat as she suddenly remembered her dear brother and how he had been all knees and elbows at that age as well.
"Where are your shoes, boy?" Rhett asked him.
The child paused, fork halfway to his mouth, "Wore out, sir. The pair they issued me didn't last the march from Richmond."
Rhett nodded his head thinking of the profiteers, "Well, no doubt they'll be too big for you, but they're better than nothing. I'll go get you a pair. And a hat too. You can't be out in the hot Georgia sun without one."
Scarlett looked at him, shocked, and the boy tried to object, "Oh sir, I couldn't-" but Rhett held up a hand, quieting him. "Nonsense, I've gotten enough from this war. It's time I gave something of myself."