First, a sincere thank to those of you who have read and reviewed. Your words motivate me to keep this going. Second, this update has been slow going simply because there has been a glut of updates and new stories posted that I've been busy reading instead of writing. Sorry about that. However I can't resist reading all these good stories. There are so many great writers here that I find myself a little embarrassed at this trifle that takes MM's characters and throws just about everything else of MM's to the wind—so to speak. Bear in mind that this is aiming for funny and sunny (although there is some angst) so while I love the canon that is GWTW, I offer my sincerest apologies to purists (myself among them) because I know I'm veering way off track here with the goal to keep it light. Enjoy!
Chapter 5 – The Barbeque
In later years when Scarlett would look back on the barbeque at Twelve Oaks that sunny April day, her recollection of the day's events were foggy at best. Often she would think that they were like a watercolor painting that had become splattered with droplets of rain, which obscured bits and pieces of the day and blurred the fine lines that clearly depicted the actual events.
It had all started out well enough. Scarlett had returned to Tara and to the safety of her bedroom undetected. She doffed her boy's clothes and donned a wrapper while she anxiously awaited a tub of water for her bath. Sitting in the relative peace of her bedroom, Scarlett had time to reflect on the morning's events and a ripple of excitement shot through her, prompting her to race to the mirror and search her reflection to see if indeed, she looked as different as she felt. Her sixteen-year old face stared back at her with her, the same as it always had but if truth be told, her eyes did possess a different gleam, a warmth that hadn't been there yesterday or even earlier this morning. She heard the door of the guest room down the hall open and then close and realized that Rhett had probably just returned from the stable. She regretted leaving him to fend for himself like she did, but she knew there would be hell to pay if anyone were to discover that she had met him in the early morning hours to ride unchaperoned through the countryside.
"Rhett." She said his name aloud. A shiver ran up her spine and she fell upon her soft feather bed in a fit of giggles, hugging her pillow to her chest as she replayed their kiss over and over in her mind. Never had any of the county boys kissed her like that. Never had the kisses of the county boys made her go hot and cold and shaky like his did. Nearly an hour later, her heart still had not returned to its normal rhythmic beat and her face was still prettily flushed with the excitement of the morning. "Why, I act like I was almost in love with him," she whispered aloud, "but I can't be, can I?"
It is too soon, she admonished herself. Why only yesterday she was in love with Ashley. But as she told Rhett earlier, his definition of love was certainly at odds with her romantic dreams of Ashley. Her dreams were an idyll, chaste and romantic; passion, hunger, need, want and yes, even companionship, were not characteristics she would ascribe to the wedded bliss she imagined with Ashley Wilkes.
Today, one day later and what seemed like ten years older, she looked back on those dreams as a child crying for the moon with absolutely no idea of what she would do with it if she actually attained her heart's desire. Today, she felt as if she was truly a grown-up, a child who had matured into a woman overnight. Today, this morning to be precise, something raw and passionate had been ignited in her and she knew that Rhett was responsible for that.
Rhett. How could one word conjure up so many thoughts and images? If she lived to be one hundred, she would never forget the feeling of his arms pressing her to his long, lean and hard body. She would never forget the sweet pressure of his lips on hers, parting hers and of his tongue seeking solace in her hot mouth, only to find not solace, but a steamy passion that had long sat dormant just waiting for someone like him to set it ablaze. She grinned at the thought of him and with a little wonder and awe, she sat up straighter and prouder, more confident in her womanly wiles than she had ever been up until this moment. For while she had bewitched many of the young county swains, never before had she enticed and enchanted a man of Rhett's age and worldliness and not for one minute did she doubt that she had indeed captured his heart. She knew it by instinct. Men always fell at her feet. All she had to do was bat her eyes, look coy and demure and then, toss the man some compliment and they would do any foolish thing she asked of them. Strangely, she had no desire to play Rhett for a fool, but she knew in her heart that he was hers to have and do with as she wished. All in all, that was a heady feeling, even for someone as self-confident as Scarlett O'Hara. It only proved to her one thing: no man existed who was immune to her charms.
Decked out in her green-sprigged muslin dress, which was cut much too low for a morning barbeque, Scarlett was so happy when they set out for Twelve Oaks that she could afford to be generous with her smiles and bestowed many on both Suellen and Careen with whom she rode in the carriage while Frank and Rhett traveled together in Frank's carriage. Rhett's eyes had admired her up and down when she had finally arrived on Tara's front porch after Gerald had started his countdown, impatient, as her father was to be off to the neighboring plantation.
"Why he looks as if he knew what I look like without my shimmy!" thought Scarlett at the brazen way his eyes traveled over her body. Yet, she couldn't get angry with him when she was doing the exact same thing. She was shocked when she discovered that her gaze had traveled from his black hair that had felt so soft under her fingers to his broad shoulders and strong chest to his long legs, all of which she had been pressed against not more than a few hours earlier.
She entertained herself with these thoughts during the short ride to Twelve Oaks. Once the two carriages arrived, however, her solitude was gone and so was Rhett. He was lost in the beehive of activity that surrounded their carriages. John Wilkes, the host, greeted Gerald, Scarlett and her sisters while, India, his daughter, stood at his side as hostess, extending her hand to Suellen and Careen but only begrudgingly to Scarlett. Men swarmed over Frank's carriage, calling greetings to him, and Rhett was swallowed up in introductions. Inside the great hall, Scarlett stood alone until she caught sight of Ashley at the top of the stairs. Usually, just the sight of him could make Scarlett's heart swell with emotion, but today, it kept its beat as she called out a greeting to Ashley before he made his way to her side with Melanie Hamilton in tow to make the introductions.
All the while, Scarlett's eyes scanned the foyer for Rhett but not finding him, she made polite conversation with Ashley, Melanie and Melanie's brother Charles. Finally, seeing Rhett enter the foyer, Scarlett gave Charles her full, undivided attention.
"Why Charles Hamilton, you handsome old thing, you! I'll bet you came all the way down here from Atlanta just to break my poor heart!" she exclaimed.
"Oh, Miss O'Hara, I couldn't…I wouldn't," he breathed while his faced flushed a bright red.
Scarlett turned from Charles, skimming deliberately over the sight of Rhett chatting with John Wilkes, and threw the Tarleton twins a greeting, which brought them immediately to her side. Then, her eye fell upon Cade Calvert and she waved gaily at him and flashing her dimples, he was drawn to her side, too. As Scarlett made her way outdoors to where everyone was assembling around the food being laid out on long white linen-covered tables, she gathered beaux, one by one, like one would collect wildflowers until she seated herself atop a large ottoman, thinking her admirers could crowd around her more easily that way. She wanted to show Rhett how many beaux she had, that she was desired and was, in her own way, experienced, too, in matters of the heart. She wanted to prove to him that she could command a following and possessed the same self-confidence that he exhibited. She wanted to be on a level playing field with him, as equals and to do so, she needed to demonstrate her skill at the one talent she believed was her strongest. She wanted him to see that he was just one of many and that the kiss they shared earlier this morning was quite commonplace for a girl of uncommon sensibilities.
Quite simply, she wanted to drive him crazy with jealousy.
She flirted, laughed and nibbled daintily the delicacies that the men brought her. The party was a shining success from all outward signs, but to Scarlett, the party was a dismal failure. Yes, she had men surrounding her, vying for her attentions, her smiles and a word of encouragement. But then, she caught sight of Ashley Wilkes strolling the gardens with Melanie Hamilton and her heart stopped, not because she wasn't linked arm in arm with Ashley, but because they looked so in love and somewhere in the far recesses of her mind, she wished she and Rhett were strolling in their place. Her eyes quickly sought out Rhett and found him for the first time apart from the crowd. He was standing alone staring at her. Her face was easy for him to read and he laughed aloud and gave her a sly wink. He inclined his head toward the flower-festooned gazebo and took off in that direction with a smile on his face.
"Excuse me gentlemen, but there is someone I need to see," Scarlett told the thong of men who all looked up at her dumbfounded when she rose and started across the lawn without any further explanation.
"I'm surprised you could tear yourself away from your ardent young men," said Rhett, surprising Scarlett when he walked out from behind a hedgerow that encircled the gazebo.
"Oh, you nearly scared me to death!"
"Oh, come now. Surely you were expecting to find me here?"
"Yes…but I didn't expect you to appear from behind a bush," Scarlett said nervously.
"But you did want me to appear, didn't you? There you were, surrounded by any number of men and yet, you didn't seem very happy. Why not?"
"I—I don't know wh—what you mean," stuttered Scarlett.
"Oh, I think you do. You may have collected every young man here at the barbeque today but you wanted more of what we shared this morning, admit it."
"I'll admit no such thing!"
"Come, Scarlett, tell the truth. You were in the middle of a crowd of men and yet you were lonely," he said brushing a stay curl back from her cheek, then added purposefully "just as I was."
"Well," Scarlett cast her eyes down demurely, stretching out her response, "I did enjoy our morning ride."
"So did I," admitted Rhett with a smile. He extended his arm to her and she linked her arm with his and with his other hand, he gently covered the top of her hand as it rested on his arm. They strolled around the garden that encircled the gazebo, just as Scarlett had seen Ashley and Melanie do earlier.
There was a full-blown barbeque in progress all around them with more than a hundred people from the county and beyond laughing and talking and delighting in what they would later remember with misty eyes as the last days of the Old South yet Scarlett took in none of it. It was as though the world was holding its breath. There was no laughter, no arguing from the men in the arbor, no sweet smells of roasting pork coming from the barbeque pits; there was only Rhett and their quiet conversation.
Rhett spoke of places he had traveled and adventures he still longed to take. Scarlett talked about horses and racing and the thrill of clearing a hedge. He talked about his business ventures and the risks he was taking with the belief that the payoff would be worth it in the end. She talked about outwitting Mammy and her mother and her constant bickering with Suellen.
"I guess I don't have a very exciting life," she concluded after trying to keep up with his stories one for one.
"That's not true. Or, at least, it doesn't have to be true. If you want something out of life, go for it. That's always been my motto."
"Yes, but you're a man. It is easier for a man."
"That's may be true in some cases, but certainly not all."
"Really? Give me an example." She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him, her eyes demanding an answer.
"Women control men all the time. They wield their—er—charms to control men and get what they want of a given situation, whether it be marriage or a new bauble."
"Oh, fiddle-dee-dee!" she cried, taking his arm again and continuing their stroll. "There are so many rules for a girl to obey. And, if a girl sees a man that she likes, what can she do? She must sit around and wait for him to pick up on her hints. Once she is married, a woman is supposed to maintain her home, have her children and be at her husband's beck and call. Where's the adventure in all of that?"
"Like I said, that's especially when women keep their, shall we say, favors, in a safe until they get what they want. It is their currency," he said, giving her a lopsided grin as he looked at her from the corner of his eye to gauge her reaction to his words. "They may not be out working at a job, but nevertheless, they pay their husband a handsome wage provided he tows the line."
"Bah! Like I said," Scarlett mused wistfully, "I wish I were a man."
"Well, I, for one, am enormously grateful that you are not. You are a beautiful woman Scarlett O'Hara and I'll remember you and this day long after I've left Clayton County. I must say you clean up well. This morning I went riding with a young lad who looked, in an odd way, a little like you. In fact, he could possibly be your brother," he winked conspiratorially at her and smiled a crooked smile. "But now, with you before me in your pretty gown, which—" he paused and looked around as if to make sure he was not being overhead, "is cut far too low for a morning event, you are beautiful and a bit risqué, but you won't find me complaining. You look quite bewitching and I have no doubt that this image of you will be a memory that I'll draw upon when I'm crossing to England in a few weeks."
"Really?" Scarlett asked almost breathlessly, gazing into his black eyes with her misty green ones.
"Really."
Just then India Wilkes stood up to announce the end of the morning festivities, which gave everyone a chance to rest up before the ball that evening. Scarlett was far too caught up in the moment to think for a single second that she could possibly relax enough to fall asleep and she didn't want to leave Rhett's side. But as in most instances of her life, she had very little say in the matter, so reluctantly, she loosened her arm from Rhett's and took a step away from him, turning in the direction of the house, the ever so slight slump of her shoulders showing her dismay.
She quickly turned back to face him. "Will I see you later?"
"I'm afraid I have to leave in an hour."
"Oh," she said, trying to hide her disappointment. The dancing would start this evening and she wouldn't have a partner, well, not a partner that she cared about anyway. Suddenly, compared to the man that Rhett Butler was, all of her childhood beaux seemed like pimple-faced little boys. Her heart broke at the thought that the dancing would come and she wouldn't be able to dance with him again, show off her catch and dance in his arms for real this time, with a real orchestra and a real ball gown.
Reading the disappointment in her face, Rhett reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him. "Scarlett, please. Meet me in about forty minutes—someplace. I want to say goodbye to you."
"I don't know if I can get away."
"Oh, come on, Scarlett. Consider it an adventure. You can find a way to sneak away from all the girls."
"Well, where should we meet?"
"You name it."
"How about right here, at the gazebo?"
"That's fine."
"In forty minutes then." Scarlett, her heart feeling lighter, started off for the house again, this time running lightly for the sooner she got there, the sooner she could run off to meet Rhett.
"Yes. Don't be late!" Rhett called after her.
* * *
Scarlett was heading upstairs with all the other girls for a nap. It was there that she found her good friend Cathleen Calvert.
"Scarlett, I see you've been spending time with Rhett Butler. Why if you keep doing that, you're reputation will be in shreds," stated Cathleen as they climbed the steps together.
"Why? What is the matter with him?" Scarlett looked at Cathleen with her mouth wide open. How did Cathleen know of Rhett Butler? Cathleen, while one of Scarlett's best friends, was not what anyone would describe as very bright. In fact, she was commonly referred to as being totally empty headed.
"My dear, he isn't received!"
"What do you mean? Mr. Wilkes has opened his home to him. Mr. Kennedy is doing business with him. And even my father has done business with him. In fact, he stayed with us last night."
"Not really!" gasped Cathleen. "I can't believe it."
"Well, I don't believe it either," stated Scarlett flatly, effectively ending the topic of conversation.
"No, you misunderstood me. I don't believe you received him. He isn't received anywhere!"
"What are you talking about? What did he do?"
"Oh, Scarlett, he has the most terrible reputation. He's from Charleston and his folks are some of the nicest people there, but they won't even speak to him. Caro Rhett told me about him last summer. He isn't any kin to her family, but she knows all about him, everybody does. He was expelled from West Point. Imagine! And for things too bad for Caro to know. And then there was that business about the girl he didn't marry."
"Tell me what you know," Scarlett said slowly, feeling an odd pang in her stomach.
"Darling, don't you know anything? Caro told me all about it last summer and her mama would die if she thought Caro even knew about it. Well, this Mr. Butler took a Charleston girl out buggy riding. I never did know who she was, but I've got my suspicions. She couldn't have been very nice or she wouldn't have gone out with him in the late afternoon without a chaperon."
Scarlett's face turned red as Cathleen told her story. Rhett took her out for an early morning ride. "Was he trying to compromise me?" Scarlett wondered as they drifted into an empty bedroom reserved for the girls.
"Scarlett, are you listening?"
"Oh, yes," she replied, startled for a minute. "Go on."
"And, my dear, they stayed out nearly all night and walked home finally, saying the horse had run away and smashed the buggy and they had gotten lost in the woods. And guess what—"
"I can't guess. Tell me," said Scarlett dully without any of the enthusiasm she would have normally exhibited after receiving such a juicy piece of gossip.
"He refused to marry her the next day!"
"Oh," murmured Scarlett absently.
"He said he hadn't—er—done anything to her and he didn't see why he should marry her. And, of course, her brother called him out, and Mr. Butler said he'd rather be shot than marry a stupid fool. And so they fought a duel and Mr. Butler shot the girl's brother and he died, and Mr. Butler had to leave Charleston and now nobody receives him," finished Cathleen triumphantly.
"Did she have a baby?" whispered Scarlett in Cathleen's ear, the knot in her stomach tightening.
Cathleen shook her head violently. "But she was ruined just the same," she hissed back.
* * *
Tiptoeing down the wide staircase, Scarlett caught sight of Rhett making a hasty exit from the smoking room where all the gentlemen gathered to trade stories while the ladies napped. The timing was perfect! She could catch up with him now—a good ten minutes ahead of their agreed upon meeting time—for a private goodbye. Since she had seen him last, her admiration from him had grown tenfold. She admired him for not marrying a fool and the idea of his unsavory reputation excited her more than she liked to admit. She ran down the stairs and into the great hall. As she ran, she cast quick glances over her shoulder to be sure no one caught sight of her and when she turned back, she literally bumped into her mother.
"Scarlett! Who are you running from? I thought you were upstairs napping with the other girls? Well, no matter. You shouldn't be running like that, but I am glad you ran into me. I want to talk with you. Step in here," Ellen commanded, leading Scarlett into the library and closing the door behind them.
"But Mother—"
"Scarlett, darling, I've come into some disturbing news. From three different sources, I have learned today that Mr. Butler is not received, not even by his family in Charleston."
"Oh, that—"
"Excuse, me? Did you say, 'Oh, that' as if not being received is a minor infraction? Well, it isn't, my dear. And because of that, I must forbid you to have any thing more to do with the man."
"But Mother—"
"Scarlett, the point is, he is not received."
"But we received him last evening."
"I know but that was before I heard this news."
"And he stayed at our home overnight."
"To continue to receive him when I know that not even his own family receives him is simply not done."
"Why? Mother, he—"
"Now, Scarlett, I won't hear anything more. Apparently, he was involved with some scandal concerning a young lady and I do not wish for you to become ensnared in that man's—"
"I don't understand!" Scarlett interrupted louder than she intended. "You were friendly with him last evening. You liked him. You know his mother—"
"Yes, and now I feel only sorrow and pity for dear Eleanor Butler to have a son who would disgrace her family in such a scandalous fashion."
"Mother, I'm sure he didn't do anything—"
"How would you know what he did or didn't do? No. Now, Scarlett, you've heard me on this—"
"But, Mother, if you'll only—"
"Scarlett, I don't like your tone, dear. Now, the subject is closed." Ellen's voice never rose, but her stern face told Scarlett that further arguing was futile. "I saw you two talking today with your heads together and it seemed, at least from afar, that you might be getting friendly with each other. I'm telling you now that is to stop. I do not want to see you near that man and I do not want you to speak to that man again. There, now is that understood? Good." Ellen finished without waiting for Scarlett's nod of acquiescence and with a swish of her skirts, she sailed out of the room.
Scarlett, seething with repressed anger, did the only thing she could at the moment to release her pent up frustration. Her hand dropped to a little table beside her, fingering a tiny china rose-bowl on which two china cherubs smirked. The room was so still she almost screamed to break the silence. She must do something or go mad. She picked up the bowl and hurled it viciously across the room toward the fireplace. It barely cleared the tall back of the sofa and splintered with a little crash against the marble mantelpiece.
A whistling sound came from the depths of the sofa and then a voice. "Has the war started?"
Nothing had ever startled or frightened her so much, and her mouth went too dry for her to utter a sound. She caught hold of the back of the chair, her knees going weak under her, as Rhett Butler rose from the sofa where he had been lying and made her a bow of exaggerated politeness.
"Oh, you nearly scared me to death," breathed Scarlett with her hand to her heart in an effort to still its mad thumping. Regaining some measure of calm, her face turned red with embarrassment at the scene, which he just witnessed. Embarrassment because he was the topic of discussion and embarrassment because she wanted him to think as highly of her mother as she did and she guessed overhearing this encounter did nothing to bolster his opinion of her mother. "Mr. Butler, you should have made your presence known."
"And have your mother call in the troops to throw me bodily out of Twelve Oaks? I think not."
"I'm sorry you had to hear that. Mother, well, she's usually not like that. She—"
"No, I'm sorry. Everything she said was true. I'm sure even you've heard some rumors about me today. Seems gossip follows me wherever I go."
"So it is true? You and a girl—"
"Scarlett, I'll tell you the whole sordid story. Yes, I took a girl out buggy riding but was it my fault that we were unavoidably delayed and I couldn't get her back in time? Is that a reason to marry someone? I don't know about you, but it isn't enough for me, not by a long shot. So I was called out. Again, I ask you, should I allow her brother to kill me when I can shoot straighter? No, not by a long shot. However, my father, who is a bastion of the Southern ways of life, thought otherwise on both counts and struck my name from the family bible. There you have it. Everything. That is why I am not received and until today, it hasn't bothered me one iota."
"And now it suddenly bothers you?"
"Yes, remarkably, it does."
"And, why is that?" Scarlett asked in all seriousness.
"Because, my dear, up until today, I came and went as I pleased and took little interest in the so-called good families of our Southland. However, it has not escaped my comprehension that if I were received, I could sit with you unnoticed at today's barbeque, I could chat with you without the local swains drawing their swords and I could court you without your mother asking your father to take me to task."
"Court me?"
"But alas, that is not to be because your mother stated it perfectly," he continued smoothly as if he had not heard her question. "She wants you to have nothing more to do with me, so I suppose it is a good thing that I'm leaving and that's why I wanted to say goodbye."
"Oh, it is just so unfair!" cried Scarlett, stomping her foot, tears starting to well in her eyes.
"Yes, it is, but I don't have to tell you that. Now give me a smile, like a good little girl. I'd hate to remember you standing here with a tear-stained face."
She prickled at the thought that with his offhand reference he dismissed her as a child. Even if he didn't mean it, he seemed so mature and sophisticated that she felt like a child by comparison, a child who now had been just reprimanded by her mother in front of her beau. Her shame sparked the rebel in her and she felt her heart beat faster and her face flush as she grabbed the lapels of his waistcoat, drawing him near. Her arms snaked up around his neck and she whispered desperately: "Kiss me. Kiss me!"
Being a man of thirty-three with unashamed appetites, Rhett did not hesitate to comply with the wishes of the passionate young woman hanging from his neck. His breath hitched at her invitation then, without a second thought, his arms went around her waist and he pressed his mouth hard against hers. She was opening to him like a flower, her lips parted so easily that he drove his tongue into her mouth and she rose up to meet him, standing on her toes and drinking from him as if she could not get enough.
Their kiss was frenzied; she desperately trying to prove herself a woman and he all-consumed with her nimble, young body that he desperately wanted to take from her all that he could for he knew the odds were slim that he ever taste of her again. They explored each other's mouths with their lips and tongues. They grabbed at each other, both all lips and searching hands and tightening arms, until they broke apart, startled by a loud yell from the foyer, followed by even more commotion.
"What—wh—what is it?" Her breathing came in rapid gasps, but he managed to make out her words.
Rhett's breathing was equally labored and he only just slightly loosened his hold on Scarlett as he whispered into her hair. "Wait! Listen."
"Lincoln has called for soldiers...volunteers to fight against us!" came a voice from the hall, followed by more Rebel yells and a thundering of boots as men ran across the foyer and out the entrance.
Alarmed, Scarlett looked up at Rhett. "Don't be afraid. The fools are all going to enlist. I'm afraid we'll be in a full-blown war before the week is out," said Rhett. "But don't you worry." He tilted her chin up to his face so he could look her squarely in the eye.
"You're not enlisting, are you?"
"No, my dear, you won't find me doing such a foolish thing. But I will be sailing for England this week and I'll think of you. But now, I must thank you, Scarlett O'Hara for a most pleasurable interlude," he said, stepping away from her and feigning nonchalance as he bowed before her. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Goodbye."
"But you're not leaving already?"
"I have to. Stay well," he said, taking his index finger and running it over her swollen red lips. "Think of me on those morning rides of yours."
"But…but—" she started, trailing after him at a loss for words. This wasn't the romantic goodbye scene she had envisioned just a short while ago. It had all been so passionate, so—so—and now he was leaving—just up and leaving.
"Goodbye, Scarlett," he said again, then turned on his heel. He opened the door to the library and looked back at her forlorn face and thought he had never seen someone look so beautiful and innocent. "I'll write you," he added as an afterthought to ease the uncomfortable twinge of guilt that flittered through his mind. With that, he closed the door and was gone.
She stood there, frozen in place. It was over. Life would never be the same again. He understood her in ways that no one ever could, ever would and now, he was gone. Probably for good if her mother had her way. The thought of returning to life as it had been was unbearable. Unthinkable! How could she pretend that she was the same as she was this morning? She felt as if she had been reborn and to go back to the same old ways and the same old days was unfathomable. How would it be possible? Oh, damn the South! Damn the War! Her heart was breaking and tears welled up in her eyes. But maybe…maybe all wasn't lost. Maybe she could talk to her mother. Maybe…just maybe she could convince her mother to allow Rhett to court her. He promised to write. If she could just soften her mother's stance on Rhett before his first letter, maybe they could court. Her face brightened at the thought and a smile came back onto her face. Then, she remembered: he was leaving! There was no time to lose if she wanted to see him before he left.
She ran into the hall and watched as all the other girls and the men dashed out the front door. Couples were running pell-mell through the house. She ran to the window and saw Ashley mount his horse and bend down to bestow a parting kiss on Melanie's lips. She frantically searched the front drive for Frank's carriage and finding it, she went through the front door and started down the steps to bid him one last goodbye. Who knows when she'd see him again! She reached the bottom step of the veranda and saw Frank begin to draw reign, but another carriage in front of him blocked his exit, so he was forced to wait a moment before he could pull out of the driveway. The horse pranced anxiously in anticipation, but this delay provided Scarlett the opportunity she needed. She caught sight of Rhett and he of her and she waved, running lightly to him.
"Stay right here!" Ellen's voice was full of reproach and it drew Scarlett to her side like a leash pulls a dog into place. "Remember, what I told you, my dear." Her voice was smooth, silky and as Scarlett stopped to stand at her side, she caught her mother's familiar scent of lemon verbena. To anyone observing the exchange from a distance, seeing Ellen's smiling countenance they would have incorrectly inferred that she was complimenting Scarlett on her high spiritedness or telling her daughter of her love. Only Rhett Butler caught the slight nuance of the exchange and knew what was as its basis.
As Frank Kennedy was finally able to pull his carriage into the congested lane of departing guest traffic in front of Twelve Oaks, Scarlett watched stoically at her mother's side. Ellen's polite smile was affixed to her face and she squeezed Scarlett's hand in the folds of her skirt, silently signaling Scarlett to do the same. Scarlett's heart was breaking but to go against Ellen's wishes was unheard of, so she tried to compose her herself, her green eyes glittering with unshed tears as she tried to bring a dimpled smile to her face.
She looked up at Rhett's face and their eyes locked, he with a wistful expression and she with one of absolute longing. She mouthed his name, "Rhett," but before she could see his reaction to her speaking his name for the first time, her mother stepped deftly between the two, effectively blocking out each's vision of the other.