Charleston

Captain Rhett K. Butler couldn't get the Southern Belle from Georgia out of his mind. Though he had no doubt that she had been bred a lady, there were so many things about her that suggested the contrary. She had sat beside him on the couch, once she had noticed his presence, and although she had called him out, rightly assuming though he too, had been raised a gentlemen that he was not one, she boldly asked about West Point. No well brought up lady would have the gall to ask about such a subject, yet she did so, and after professing her love for the pale-faced Ashley Wilkes, she had told him that they would marry one day. Even now as he was on his way home to Charleston from Europe where he had discussed the impending war with them, he couldn't shake the image of the Southern Belle with the mischievous green eyes, who made little pretense in hiding who she was. For the first time in a long time, he wished his reputation was different for he knew of her family and there was no way the O'Hara's and Rollibard's would allow one such as him around her. He had made quiet inquiries to his mother of this young girl, barely past the blush of youth.

He had been surprised at the way the world worked, for his mother was on the best of terms with her great-aunts and she had regaled him with tales through her letters with stories of her parents and of her grandparents. It had been quite the scandal when Ellen Robillard, the prettiest of the children of the General and Solange had married Gerald O'Hara who had no family to speak of other than those in trade. There was some business with a cousin of hers, but that story had long since reached its peak and was shrouded in mystery much like Scarlett herself. It was said that she was to marry Charles Hamilton, and Rhett couldn't think of two people less suited for one another unless it was her and Ashley. Still, he wasn't a marrying man, and his interest in her was purely to satisfy his curiosity he told himself. She had two sisters who were real ladies he was told but lacked her inner fire. The second O'Hara girl, Suellen she was called, was as good as married to old-whiskered face Frank Kennedy, who was the reason Rhett had attended the Bar-B-Que to begin with. Rhett looked around the familiar Charleston city of his birth, of his childhood with mild disdain, if not for his mother and sister he would see this place burned to the ground. There was no love lost between himself and his father or his brother who was a carbon copy of his father.

He knew they still talked about him and his younger days. The fact that he had taken Corrine Winslow on a buggy ride, and even after it had rained she had insisted she didn't want to go home; it was her foolishness if she thought to trick him into marrying him. He had known Corrine since he was a child, and had found her simple and silly and he wouldn't be stuck with such as a wife. The true tragedy, Rhett thought, was that her brother had challenged him, and Rhett wasn't going to die when he could shoot better. That had been the last straw for Langston Butler and he had been ordered out of his family home and out of Charleston. He wondered if his father knew just how successful he had turned out. Rhett quickened the pace as he saw two female figured huddled together and looking around. Rhett smiled.

"Mother," he called, hugging her and quickly slipping some of his ill-gotten gains into her shawl. "It had been too long."

"Indeed it has, Rhett," Eleanor told her oldest child. "Did my letters reach you? Did the information help?" she asked as she drew back to kiss both of his cheeks and slip her hand into his. "Tell me you've at last fallen in love."

"No such luck," he told her. "I merely wanted to satisfy a curiosity that has plagued me for some time," he replied before turning his attention to his little sister. "Rosemary? Can that possible be you? When I left you were but a child, I see the years have been good to you, little sister."

"Oh, Rhett, you shouldn't flatter me so. You've always been so good to me," she replied, blushing under her brother's compliments.

"Did you tell him, Mother that Ms. O'Hara arrived two days ago?" Rosemary asked, her mother.

"I was just getting to that," Eleanor said easily "Don't worry about your reputation…if she's half the girl you think she is, things like that won't matter. I want my son to be happy," Eleanor said, using her mother's guilt to spur him on. "Before I die, I want to see my son happily married with children of his own."

"Well, there's always Ross, and besides Mother you look healthy," Rhett said, easily aware of her ploys.

"You never know…with the war coming…"Eleanor allowed the sentence to trail off. "You should speak with your father before you leave. You never know what this war may bring," Eleanor said, trying once again to mend the gap between two of the men she loved. She knew that her husband and her eldest son were so much alike, but prideful, both stubborn, and both loathe to admit they were wrong; somehow she must get them to bridge the gap. Rhett's father wasn't the young man he had once been, and he wasn't getting any younger.

"You say Ms. O'Hara is here and without the esteemed Mr. Hamilton?" Rhett asked, to change the subject. "What do you think of her?"

"She's very spirited, just as you describe."

"Mother thinks she's prefect for you," Rosemary added. "Although she seems most uncomfortable. At least with her aunts around, like she believes she's grown and doesn't need their constant supervision," Rosemary said, with a side-glance at her mother, Rosemary felt the same way at times and too always be watched by an adult was…maddening.

Rhett sent his mother and sister home in his carriage as he walked in the brisk rain. It was a new rain, and Rhett reveled in the smell of it. Rain always seemed to be cleansing to him, it had been in the rain that Rhett had taken out that silly Corrine, and it had rained after Rhett had shot her foolish brother, and it had rained when his father Langston Butler had thrown his eldest son and heir out of his home, and it rained now. Rain was cleansing and renewing. He walked around town, marveling at the changes since he had been here last. He spotted a creature in a maroon dress duck out into the rain as she slipped off maroon slippers and threw her head back and laughed, opening her mouth to let in the droplets of rain. Just who could that be in proper Charleston doing such an improper thing? Could that be Scarlett O'Hara? Where were the aunts, he wondered?

He quieted he steps as he came upon her much like a pirate from the Butler family legends. He seemed mesmerized by her for he had known women more beautiful than her and far more charming, what was it about her that made his skin feel as if he was singed by her, poisoned by the thought of her, and all he had done was gaze upon her. He tipped his hat as he came closer. "Good afternoon, Ms. O'Hara. It is still Ms. O'Hara isn't it? You haven't become the wife of Charlie Hamilton while I've been away." Without warning her decorum changed, her lips closed and she held herself stiffly, as if there was no way she could have been the girl dancing in the rain. He bent down to scoop up her shoes. "Allow me," he said as he reached for her small feet and put on her slippers. "It's much too wet to be dancing, my dear," he said.

"No, Captain Butler, I haven't married Charlie…yet." Rhett frowned, his eyes narrowed on the way she said yet. What kind of game was she playing with him?

"What are you doing in Charleston?" he asked her sharper than he had intended.

"I…that is…I came to see my aunts…before I marry." Rhett nodded, the reason seemed logical and yet there was something so…cat-like about her that he hesitated in believing her.

"Why are you engaged to that ninny?" Rhett asked her. "You know you will never make a happy marriage with him."

"And I suppose you know just who I should marry?" she shot back eyes flashing. "You think you are the proper person, Rhett Butler."

"I might be…if I was a marrying man. The only thing I can offer you, my dear, is a good time." Rhett didn't know who he was madder at her or him, or just the reaction she had on him. "And whatever happened to the estimable Ashley Wilkes, how does he fit in your plans?" Rhett asked jealously coursing through him, it was irrational, and yet it was there.

"I don't care if Ashley goes to the devil!" she screamed her face inches from his own, he struggled once against his more baser desires before giving in to the longing that overtook him and he placed his lips down over her own. Fire shot through him, fire and desire which was beyond his comprehension and making him regret his foolhardy mistake. He expected the young virgin to slap him, but she wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him closer, molding the top half of her body to his, Rhett pulled her into his arms, his arms holding her back as his tongue reached out to suck and nip on hers, and he felt the evidence of his desire assert itself. No woman had ever responded to him as this one did. He pulled away from her wondering just what game she was playing, and when he had lost.

"Rhett, oh, Rhett," she moaned his name, and Rhett blinked trying to fight the fog that she had cast over him. He set her on her feet, all but pushed her away, although he waited for her to steady herself.

"Come on, I'll take you back to your aunts," he added stiffly widening the distance between him. He had thought to mystify her but he was the one in a daze.

"But Rhett…don't you…I mean…do you…"

"What is it you are asking me, Ms. O'Hara? If I want you, you know that I do. I have to wonder if Charles Hamilton knows what he's getting in a wife," he sneered at her. Scarlett felt the blood drain from her face….he was suggesting that she was easy with her features, before she could stop herself; she had slapped him across the face.

"I hope a bullet goes off in your face….I hope it blows you to a million pieces, I hope the Yankees can't identify your body…"

"Yes, I follow your general direction."

"I hope I never see you again," she cried out, tears filling her eyes. They were real tears. Damn. Rhett felt bad for making her cry.

"I'll make this up to you, Scarlett. I didn't mean what I said," he said feeling strange. "How about I escort you to the Garden Party next week." She brightened, and smiled.

"Rhett, I don't…that's to say…you caught me off guard. I am pure," she finished, wondering if she was. Her body was, but her mind, and the experience she had was anything but pure. She knew of desire because Rhett had opened her up to desire. Rhett said nothing, just bowed as he took his leave of her, leaving a bewildered Scarlett in his wake. Had things between them always been so electric? If so, why had she ever followed Ashley's advice to not sleep with her husband, to have gone years without him in her bed?