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Chapter 10 – Exploring Charleston

The afternoon continued along in a similar manner. One moment, Rhett and Scarlett were friendly, conversing easily; the next, they were more than friendly and there was a jolt of energy between the two, which more often than not, was caused by some unexpected touch. Their arms touched or hands brushed the others. The contact, whether it was between hands, shoulders or eyes caused Scarlett's face to flush, palms grow sweaty and her breath to hitch. Afterwards, the atmosphere seemed stilted with neither knowing quite what to say, both seemingly reticent to admit or bow to the powerful magnetism which was drawing them closer and closer and then farther apart as they moved about Charleston like chess pieces on a board; one step forward, two steps back. One moment, they were engaged in conversation, filling each other in on their activities during the past year; the very next moment, Rhett fell silent as if unable or unwilling to divulge any information. One moment, they were walking arm in arm like lovers, her head nearly resting on his shoulder and his cheek resting atop her head and the next, Rhett would smoothly change the subject, distancing himself both mentally and physically from Scarlett, letting go of her arm only to stuff his hands in his pants pockets as they strolled the cobble stoned streets.

During this time Rhett showed her his Charleston. The Charleston he grew up in. The city that made him the man he was today. He pointed out the mansions of the upper crust residents who lived south of Broad Street, the line of demarcation from the haves and the have-even-mores. He pointed out Hibernian Hall, the scene of a long ago confrontation between a young Rhett and his domineering father. They strolled along the Ashley River where he had gotten his first taste for sailing. He told her all about Moses, an old darky fisherman, who had taken him under his wing and taught Rhett about all the inlets, shoals and shallows that make the river unique to Charleston's lowlands. In short, he told her everything about himself except what she desperately wanted to hear: that he loved her.

There were times when Scarlett was sure that he felt as she did. There were moments when she caught him looking at her like a cat at a mouse hole, waiting or wondering—about something, but what? It was maddening! There was an incident where she nearly twisted her ankle on a cobblestone and stumbled before Rhett caught her in his arms. Not for the first time that day, she was positive that he was about to kiss her. He looked at her so strangely and his black eyes blazed in a strange way. Scarlett was sure she saw the fire of passion burning in his eyes and interpreted it as longing, but then scoffed at that absurd idea because just as suddenly as it sparked, the fire burned out and his face was wiped clean except for an honest concern for her well being.

"I'm fine, Rhett, but let's sit down, shall we? I feel like we've been walking for hours." With that, Scarlett surveyed their surroundings on the banks of the Ashley River and dropped down onto the soft grass. "Ah, it does feel good to sit down. Please join me," she pleaded, looking up at Rhett and extending her hand to him.

"I thought you wanted to stroll along the river," he answered, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

"I did and we did. Can't we rest for awhile?"

Rhett nodded, doffed his jacket and sat down in the grass.

"Besides, you never did tell me…" Scarlett began demurely.

"Tell you what?"

"Exactly what you wrote to me in your letters."

"Hmmm," Rhett replied absently, apparently engrossed in the cigar he withdrew from his jacket pocket.

"So…"

"So what?"

"Tell me. Tell me what you wrote."

"Oh, that. Well, nothing terribly exciting. I wrote about my travels. The weather mostly, the cargo we loaded. The blockade itself. The war. That's about it."

"Rhett, you may think that I'm a simpleton from Clayton County, but no man, even any of the County boys, would write a woman a letter like that," she explained, batting her lashes.

"What would you like me to say? That I wrote that I was madly in love with you?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

While Scarlett had grown accustomed to his mood running hot and cold, she didn't expect this. "Nevermind," she said dully. "Are you really so adverse to giving a girl a compliment?"

"No. Not at all. In fact," he said, resting his weight on his one arm and leaning toward her, "would it please you if I said your eyes were twin goldfish bowls filled to the brim with the clearest green water and that when the fish swim to the top, as they are doing now, you are devilishly charming?"

"Oh, I don't like that," Scarlett said, tossing her head. They sat quietly for awhile, then she added: "I suppose that not everyone is skilled at letter writing."

"I bare my heart to you and cut me. Oh, my dear, how that hurts!" he said with much bravado.

"Oh, stop it will you!" she retorted and then turned away from him for she feared what he would read her utter disappointment in her face if he caught sight of it, even if just for a moment.

"Scarlett, come now!" Rhett caught her chin in his hand and turned her back to him and what he saw in her eyes made his darken considerably. He drew a breath and tried to lighten the situation. "Listen, I heard from Frank Kennedy, my friend, and yours I might add, that you were the most hard-hearted woman in Georgia. Don't tell me you've turned soft."

With that, Scarlett's eyes filled with tears but they didn't fall. She lifted her chin and fixed her gaze on the river, leaving his question unanswered. After a moment or two of silence, she gathered her skirts about her and stood. "I think I better get back to my aunts now. They are sure to be wondering where I am," she said stiffly.

"Scarlett, you don't have to leave."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"Now be sensible."

"I am being sensible," she said, turning to look down upon him sitting in the grass. "I am nothing if not practical! And, that's precisely the reason I need to get home."

"And ruin a perfectly good afternoon?" Rhett cajoled her.

"Yes, and if you're not coming with me, I'll bid you a 'good afternoon' right now, Captain Butler."

"Now, Scarlett…" Rhett scrambled up to follow Scarlett, who had had collected her wits and was walking to the main path that would take her back to Charleston proper.

"Don't 'now Scarlett' me!"

He seemed as if delighted by her fury and he chuckled lightly. "Now, you're just like the girl I met at Tara before the war started. A girl who speaks her mind and isn't afraid to wear a pair of men's trousers if she sees fit."

"That's right! And I will speak my mind. Who do you think you are, Captain Butler?" she scolded, waving her finger at him. "Who do you think you are to parade me all through Charleston and then act like a coward when I ask you a simple question."

"A coward?"

"Yes. I'm no romantic fool you can take advantage of. Yes, maybe you can out-think me with all your education. Yes, you can probably even outwit me with your sarcastic running commentary, but I'll be damned if you'll make me look like an idiot!" Scarlett took off at a brisk pace, leaving Rhett standing on the banks of the river as she made her way up the hill.

"Why you little fool!" Rhett took off after her and when he was a couple feet from her, he reached out to grab her arm and swung her around. The force of it and the incline of the hill brought her forcibly into his arms, which surprised them both and they stood silently staring at each other, their bodies pressed up against each other so closely that they could each feel the others deep breaths from the exertion of climbing the hill. They were literally thrown together. Prognosticators would say it was fate that threw them together. Whatever it was, they each searched the others eyes and each thinking they found what they so desperately sought, with a frenzy born of long subdued passion, they frantically pulled the other closer in a mélange of failing arms, searching hands, grasping fingers and hungry lips. Their mouths and arms clung one to the other as if holding on for dear life. Scarlett had dreamed of this moment since their last embrace at Tara but dreams have a way of going fuzzy, blurring and softening with time just as champagne loses its bubbles once uncorked. The reality of this embrace was far stronger than her dreams and far more potent. To someone unaccustomed to such passion, she quickly became intoxicated.

"Please, please, stop or I'll faint."

"I want to make you faint. This is what you were meant for. I bet no one has ever kissed you like this."

"No. No…" she whimpered, too weak to even talk, not even wanting to. Wanting only to be kissed dizzy just as he was kissing her now.

"Do you really want to know what was in my letters?" Rhett finally whispered into her ear in a voice ragged with passion.

Scarlett opened her eyes and looked into his and nodded, swallowing hard in anticipation of what was to come.

"I told you with much sentiment how much I've wanted you. And I still do. I have wanted you since the first moment I saw you at Tara, riding around in pants and as dirty and smelly as a street urchin. I've wanted you more than I have ever wanted any woman and I've waited longer for you than I've waited for any woman. And now, now that I finally have you in my arms I thought you'd be interested to know it."

She was interested and much more. This was the kind of passionate declaration she had yearned for. Now, if he would just ask her to marry him everything would be perfect. But instead, he just held her tightly in a warm embrace and eventually, the trembling in his arms quieted. He was ever so gentle now. His lips brushed her hair and his large hands caressed her back. She inhaled deeply, taking in his scent of tobacco, leather and horses, comforting smells because they reminded her of Gerald. Neither spoke. No declaration came forth but Scarlett didn't mind, she was, for now, content to stay tucked in his warm, sheltering embrace for as long as he would hold her.

It was the sound of music coming from a gazebo further up the riverbank that reminded them both that they were not alone. Reluctantly, they loosened their hold on one another and each took a step back. It was then that Scarlett realized that something was different. While they had physically stepped apart, Scarlett felt more a part of Rhett than before and knew that in that moment, her love for Rhett had come to fruition.

The familiar melody of "Aura Lee" floated down to them but to Scarlett, the sweet tones meant nothing but an intrusion. She was right.

"Shall we join the populous?" Rhett asked, bowing slightly and waving his hand toward the gazebo where a crowd was now gathering.

Scarlett nodded and she took the arm he offered her, but again, it was as if everything had suddenly changed. While they had walked arm-in-arm throughout the day, this time, he covered her small hand that hung onto his arm with his free hand as if he wanted to keep her securely by his side. As they approached the gazebo, Scarlett recognized the musicians as members of the Home Guard. After finishing "Aura Lee," they broke into a bright rendition of "The Bonnie Blue Flag." The crowd burst into enthusiastic applause. Scarlett looked up to Rhett trying her hardest to hold back the words she longed to say but remembering her hard learned lessons at Ellen's knee and reinforced on a daily basis by Mammy, she kept silent. However, with or without words, her face was easy to read by Rhett and anyone who passed by for her adoration was poorly concealed. At the look in her face, Rhett's stance stiffened but then, as if thinking the better of it, he gave her a wide grin and pressed the hand on his arm even tighter.

The sun was setting as the neighborhood concert came to the end of yet another number. As the sky turned from blue to a watercolor painting of orange, pink and purple, the musicians set down their instruments and a single violinist stepped forward for what Scarlett could only assume was a solo. He started playing a lilting melody that Scarlett immediately felt drawn to though she knew it wasn't one of the currently popular songs.

"Ah, Canon in D. It's one of my favorites. Do you like it?" Rhett asked.

"It's lovely," murmured Scarlett, thoroughly enthralled with the music. So hypnotized was she by it that she closed her eyes and swayed back and forth in time to the music. Scarlett was totally unaware that her face had undergone a transformation; she was utterly serene and unaffected by anything. Her rose-red lips parted slightly and curved in an alluring smile of pure enjoyment. The breeze that had kicked up as the sun set ruffled her hair, loosening it from its elaborate up-do and blowing dark wisps about her pale face and softly blushed cheeks. From the moment that Rhett had first laid eyes on the cleaned up Scarlett—the young woman he had first met that evening during supper at Tara—he had thought her beautiful. But he had been wrong. Beautiful didn't even begin to describe her. Seeing her now, here, in this light and having had once again held her nubile body in his arms, he found her irresistibly fascinating and irrevocably breathtaking.

Rhett looked upon her face and it bewitched him and so lost in the music was she that Scarlett did not even notice Rhett turning to stand before her until he took her in his arms and started dancing with her. It was an experience Scarlett could never have imagined. The sun was setting, leaving a sky splashed with bold hues in its wake. The crowd had dissipated and the violinist approached the couple, giving them their own personal serenade. The crowd stood in silent witness to the pair, dancing to what many would consider a matrimonial nocturne. And for Scarlett, it was. They danced under an archway formed by trees that linked their branches to form a canopy above the lovers. If Scarlett had been adored in her mother's white wedding dress and had there been a minister present, she wouldn't have felt more bound to Rhett.

* * *

The bells in St. Michael's tolled nine o'clock as Rhett and Scarlett paused at the gate to Aunt Eulalie's home. Rhett opened the latch with his free hand; the other was entwined with Scarlett's. He gently tugged on her arm to usher her through the gated fence but she lingered, swinging her arm linked to his, and dragged her feet, not wanting this day to end.

"Come here," he whispered softly, leading her to a joggling bench that sat in the garden. Joggling benches were unique to Charleston and were used for courting purposes, provided the couple was adequately chaperoned, of course. Alone in the dark, moonlit night, Rhett took her by the shoulders and pushed her into place at one end of the long, bouncy bench; he sat down a considerable length away.

"Why so far? Have I scared you off?" Scarlett asked demurely, bouncing a little on the bench, which only made the two of them slide a little closer together.

"Yes, as a matter of fact you have. I don't think I can take much more of this. I need a moment. I want to be clear headed right now."

"Really…why?" Scarlett's voice was husky as she slid further down the bench to its center.

"Ahem…I don't know about you, but I fear we may not be alone. Prying eyes annoy me," he said conspiratorially, looking around for signs of life in the yard or in the home, but all they heard was the lonely sound of a lone cricket calling out to its mate. "Speaking of such matters," he continued, "is the admirable Miss Eulalie or Miss Pauline home? They never have thought very highly of me."

"Aunt Pauline usually comes over at night," answered Scarlett, bouncing again and sliding down the bench until she and Rhett were an arm's length apart. "But both Aunt Pauline and Aunt Eulalie have a committee meeting tonight, so they won't be back for awhile."

"What luck," he said softly, "to have you alone. The entire day has been pure torture for me, as I'm sure you are well aware…"

Something in his voice made her heart beat pleasantly faster and she felt her face flush. After their confrontation followed by Rhett's declaration at the river, the day had been a dream come to life. True, he didn't exactly say he loved her, nor did he propose, but she shook off her nagging conscience that was threatening to dampen her deliriously happy mood.

Now, hearing Rhett's voice whisper so seductively made the hair on her bare arms stand on end. She had heard that note in men's voices often enough to know that it presaged a declaration of love. Oh, what fun! If he would just say he loved her! She laughed nervously in pleasant anticipation.

"Wanting you as I do, I've been hard pressed, so to speak, to keep myself from ravishing you. I hope you have appreciated my gentlemanly conduct. Believe me, I do not come by it naturally. Occasionally my gentlemanly honor cracks and this is one of those moments. Come here," he said, pulling her into his arms as they met in the center of the dipping bench. "I want to say, goodbye. You realize that I set sail tomorrow at dawn and I'll be gone for some time…"

"Don't giggle," he said, and taking her hand, he turned it over and pressed his lips into the palm. Something vital, electric, leaped from him to her at the touch of his warm mouth, something that caressed her whole body thrillingly. His lips traveled to her wrist and she knew he must feel the leap of her pulse as her heart. She was in love with him and desperately wanted to tell him so, but her upbringing told her that she had to wait…and be patient until he spoke first.

He laughed softly, smiling in enjoyment at her nervousness.

"Scarlett, you do like me, don't you?"

That was more like what she was expecting.

"Well, sometimes," she answered cautiously. "Though I still haven't forgiven you for your boorish behavior at the river."

He laughed again and held the palm of her hand against his hard cheek. He kissed her palm again, and again the skin on the back of her neck crawled excitingly.

"But you do like me. Could you ever love me, Scarlett?"

He went and turned the tables on her again and she stood mute, unable to think fast enough to come up with a witty response, one that would force his hand first without revealing all of her cards.

"I do like you tremendously—" he continued as if he hadn't noted her lack of a response, "for the elasticity of your conscience, for the selfishness which you seldom trouble to hide, and for the shrewd practicality."

What? Nothing about her charming personality, dimples, hair or eyes! She began to splutter wordlessly.

"Don't interrupt," he begged, squeezing her hand. "I like you because I have those same qualities in me and like begets liking. That said, I'm hoping there is room in your heart for me. Scarlett, do stop wriggling! I am making you a declaration. As I said, I have wanted you since the first time I laid eyes on you at Tara. I want you more than I have ever wanted any woman and I fully intend to have you, all of you."

She was breathless with surprise at his last words. He did love her and want to marry her and he was just so contrary he didn't want to come out frankly and put it into words, for fear she'd laugh. It was all so obvious now. He wanted her to promise to marry him before he left on his next blockading trip.

Then his arms went around her waist and shoulders and he pulled her to her feet. She felt the hard muscles of his thighs against her body and the buttons of his coat pressing into her breast. A warm tide of feeling, bewildering, frightening, swept over her, carrying out of her mind the time and place and circumstances. She felt as limp as a rag doll, warm, weak and helpless, and his supporting arms were so pleasant.

He was kissing her now and his mustache tickled her mouth, kissing her with slow, hot lips that were so leisurely as though he had the whole night before him. Ashley had never kissed her like this. Never had the kisses of the Tarleton and Calvert boys made her go hot and cold and shaky like his were doing. He bent her body backward and his lips traveled down her throat to where the cameo fastened her basque.

"Sweet," he whispered. "Sweet."

Scarlett hands climbed up his shoulders and grasped his head. His hair was surprisingly soft and silky under her fingertips and unable to stop herself, she ran her fingers through it with abandon and then pulled his head tightly to her breast, exhilarated by the feelings he was arousing in her. Her assertiveness seemed to fuel his passion and his mouth attacked hers with vigor. Heedless of time and space, they were so immersed in their newfound passion that neither heard the click of the gate or the horrified gasp that followed it.

Startled and breathless, Scarlett snapped to attention and turned, somewhat disoriented, toward the sound. Her swollen lips were still pursed in a rapturous smile but when her eyes fell upon the shocked faces of Aunt Pauline and Aunt Eulalie her face was wiped clean of all except fear. Facing a brigade of Yankees standing at the gate would not have been nearly as frightening.