Chapter 11 – Taken to Task

"Shame on you, Scarlett O'Hara!" shouted Eulalie once they were in the house and the door closed behind them.

"How could you? How could you bring shame on yourself, your mother and us in this manner?" Aunt Pauline was equally enraged as she pulled off her gloves with clumsy fingers that shook with anger.

"—and with such a scoundrel as Rhett Butler. The man has brought shame upon his entire family. Oh, poor Eleanor Butler! Her son has humiliated the woman. He's done nothing, absolutely nothing but harm his family and their reputations!" exclaimed Eulalie.

Scarlett stood unmoving, staring blankly at her aunts, who were now engaged in a loud tirade with each other, as if trying to best the other with their observations and examples of Scarlett's impropriety.

"That's because the man has so little regard for anyone's reputation let alone his own. Why he was kicked out of West Point, did you know that?" Pauline asked Scarlett.

"Then, he ruined poor Emily Lawrence. That's something I wager you didn't know!" Eulalie was now peppering Scarlett with questions. "Poor Emily. She was a lovely girl from a lovely family. Her big mistake was going out buggy riding with that man without a chaperone. The day wore on and she never returned—"

"She didn't come home until well after dark!" Pauline finished for her sister. "He claimed the wheel on the buggy broke but no one believed it. That's the problem with a man like Rhett Butler. He's not to be trusted."

"Yes, he's not to be trusted." As of on cue, both Pauline and Eulalie turned once again to face Scarlett directly.

"In any case, Emily's brother, Nathanial, called him out," continued Eulalie, still her voice octaves above her normal range. "The duel was set for the next morning. It was barely past dawn when a shot rang out and minutes later, word spread. Rhett Butler had shot Nathanial in cold blood. Robert Butler struck his son's name from the family bible and Rhett left town. We thought we were done with him."

"The man should have allowed Nat to shoot him dead and put an end to the blight that has plagued the Butler family since he was born!" smirked Pauline.

"Oh, Scarlett, how could you? To allow this man to soil your reputation! He can be charming, to be sure. He can be charming one minute and con you out of a fortune the next. Were you foolish enough to think he would marry you? Now, that's a laugh!" Eulalie cried with a near hysterical note in her voice. She walked up to Scarlett and jerked her chin up so that the two women were looking at one another eye to eye and Eulalie studied Scarlett's green depths for a moment. "I can see that you did. What a stupid little fool! The man is not a marrying man. He won't marry you. He won't marry anyone. He doesn't care about anyone but himself!" Eulalie concluded.

Eulalie walked to the window and looked out as if studying something in the dark blackness she saw there. Finally in a soft voice she added: "We will telegram your mother in the morning. I pity her. As much as it pains me, we have to tell her."

"Oh, dear…what will she think of us as chaperones?" whimpered Pauline.

***

Back in her room, Scarlett angrily threw her clothing haphazardly into the trunk careless of the fine garments as she was wrinkling and the ruffles she was tearing in her haste. Tears blinded her eyes, overflowing and streaming down her face. Heedless, she absently wiped her sleeve across her running nose. Scarlett felt herself go cold with fear and humiliation. Aunt Eulalie was a fool, a silly, a simpleton about men, but she had a feminine instinct about other women that Scarlett had underestimated. The mortification and hurt pride that she had suffered with Rhett Butler were pinpricks to this. Men could be trusted to keep their mouths shut, but with Aunt Eulalie and Aunt Pauline giving tongue like hounds in the field, word would travel to Tara by suppertime tomorrow evening. And Gerald had said only two months ago that he wouldn't be having the County laughing at his daughter. And how they would all laugh now! Clammy perspiration, starting under her armpits, began to creep down her ribs.

Then, she heard her aunts' muffled voices float up to her room. She quietly eased open the door, tiptoed into the hall and leaned over the banister so that she could make out what they were saying to one another.

"I'm just so distressed. Sister dear, do you think we were too hard on her?"

"Bah, not at all. She needs to go home where Ellen can keep a watchful eye on her. You know as well as I do that all Scarlett O'Hara has ever done has been to stir up trouble and try to get other girls' beaux—"

"She's a fast piece of baggage, that she is."

"I must get out of here!" thought Scarlett. "I must get out of here!"

Whenever she had problems in the past, she drew solace and comfort from the thought of Tara. If she could only be transferred by magic to Tara and to safety. If she could only be with Ellen, just to see her, to hold onto her skirt, to cry and pour out the whole story in her lap. But she couldn't go home to Tara! Her mother would be furious, furious and disappointed that first Scarlett had lied about her whereabouts and then she had acted like a trollop, throwing herself at the very man her mother warned her to stay from away from. Oh, if she had to listen to another word from her aunts, she'd rush downstairs and tell them both off and spit on the old biddies to show them just what she thought of them. But she'd already acted common enough today, enough like white trash—that was where all her trouble lay.

She pressed her hands hard against her skirts, so they would not rustle and backed out of the hall as stealthily as an animal. Where could she go, she wondered as she sped down the hall, past the closed doors and still rooms, where? The only answer was to go home.

But—she couldn't go home! She had to run away and find a new life for herself for how could she bear the combination of humiliation and heartbreak. To run away would only give them more ammunition.

She pounded her clenched fist against the heavy door of her room as she locked it behind her, and she wished that she were Samson, so that she could pull down all of Charleston and destroy every person in it. She'd make them sorry. She'd show them. She didn't quite see how she'd show them, but she'd do it all the same. She'd hurt them worse than they hurt her.

But what could she do? Where would she go? Then, just like her room at Tara would fill with light when the sun rose every morning, her eyes brightened at the idea that rose to her mind: Rhett. "I'll find Rhett. He'll know what to do. He won't let me go home in disgrace, I just know it!"

For a brief instant she wondered why Rhett hadn't suggested marriage the moment that her aunts happened upon them in the front yard, startling them from their embrace. The thought nagged at her and made her heart sink low into her stomach and for a moment, a sickening feeling overtook her and her hands turned icy cold. But if truth were told, she didn't even look at him when her aunts approached the gate. So petrified was she of them and their reaction that she didn't remember anything that transpired in the next few moments. In fact, she didn't remember how she even got into the house. So she really could not recall if Rhett had said or done anything to salvage her reputation. She thought hard, hoping to find some shred of evidence that he had taken the blame, excusing himself because he was so smitten with her that he had taken leave of his senses. And yes, of course, he would do the right thing and marry her!

But try as she might, Scarlett could not recall anything of the sort. When she concentrated really hard, she could remember something…something he said about sailing at dawn. Did he ask her to meet him? She remembered his odd behavior all day. Backing away from her at the oddest moments. That strange light in his eyes that she couldn't quite understand. The way he seemed to be riding his emotions with a curb bit. Then, he suddenly let loose when that were at the river and it happened again with utter abandon when they arrived at Eulalie's house. The juxtaposition of his cool restraint followed by kisses that were so passionate and eyes that silently told her of his desire were distinctly at odds.

"Of course! He acted that way because he doesn't know I love him," thought Scarlett. "But I'll tell him and then he can't leave on his trip without marrying me first! That will solve everything! Mother can't be upset if we're married and no one will think the worse of me once we're married!"

"That's it!" Scarlett's mood changed instantly from devastated to elated as she swept about the room gathering her things. "We'll get married! He'll prove everyone wrong. He loves me! I just know he does," Scarlett cried to herself with renewed strength as she packed her bags, for now she wasn't packing to run away. She was packing her bags to elope. At the thought, a sly smile spread across her face. "Why at this time tomorrow night, I could be Mrs. Rhett Butler!" With that, she fell onto the bed in a fit of giggles, then realized for her plan to work her aunts must not hear her, so she brought a pillow to her face until she regained control over her emotions. She rose from the bed and paced the room, nibbling lightly on the knuckle of her index finger as she thought hard to formulate a plan.

First and foremost, she looked at the enormous trunk she was packing and realized it wouldn't do if she were going to elope. She remembered seeing a carpetbag in the attic and decided she had to retrieve it. She pulled her door open a crack and seeing light still coming from downstairs, she decided to make her move. The sound of Eulalie and Pauline's voices floated up to her. They were quieter now but no less righteous and she could hear her name along with mentions of Rhett and finally, Ellen. Hearing her mother's name brought renewed fear into her heart and she actually felt it skip a beat as she forced her feet to move stealthy up the attic steps. She fumbled in the dark attic. The only light came courtesy of the full moon that illuminated the old floorboards and cast dark, menacing shadows on the walls. Hurry! Hurry! She told herself, trying to shake off her fear of the creepy shadows and the idea that she may be caught at any second.

She found the carpetbag she sought and crept back to her room. She snapped the closure open and dug her hands into the musty bag to find something in its depths. She pulled out a lacy shawl and as it fell open, a piece of paper floated from its folds, hit the hardwood floor and skipped under the bed. Scarlett got to her hands and knees to retrieve the paper, afraid to leave any evidence behind that would give rise to suspicions. Her fingers reached the paper and she stood up, anxious to get her bag packed and be on her way. She was just about to toss the paper back into the bag when the handwriting caught her eye. It was familiar but she couldn't place it. Then it hit her! It was another page of the love letter she had found in the attic trunk.

…My love, I refuse to be forced into an arranged, loveless marriage, not when I know you still live and breathe and can sing and dance and hold me in your arms. How could I bear being married to someone whom I do not love? I ask you, how could I bear it?

I could not, no. No, matter what Father says, I cannot abide by his rules. I know my behavior is sure to bring shame to my family but how can I abide by what society says is proper and deny my heart? How can I honor my mother and my father and deny the love I feel for you that is true, for nothing I have ever felt for anyone has ever felt more pure than does my love for you?

The answer to these questions is a simple one: I cannot. I cannot deny my love for you and I will not trade my lifelong happiness to please anyone, least of all my parents.

I, my love, am your "yellow rose" and will see you soon.

Love, E-

A combination of aged paper and smudged ink made the full name unreadable but Scarlett assumed it had to be Eulalie who wrote this but couldn't believe it. The woman who was raging downstairs about her fast behavior was writing torrid letters to her lover against the wishes of her parents. Grandfather Robillard must have surely despised this young man, so much so that he and her grandmother preferred to force Eulalie into an arranged marriage. Scarlett's jaw dropped at that thought and she shuddered to think that Eulalie had ever been young enough to feel real true love was. Surely, she was writing about her husband or…the thought dawned upon her…was she writing about someone else. Was Eulalie's husband the pawn in her father's arranged marriage? Either way, Eulalie was a hypocrite. "How dare she criticize me when she was willing to do anything—anything to be with the one man that she truly loved?" thought Scarlett.

If a fire had been lit in Scarlett earlier, the letter only served to ignite it into a blazing conflagration that gave her strength and courage in her earlier decision to find Rhett and marry him. Like this unnamed man, Rhett was her one true love. How could she bear being separated from him? The answer was simple: She could not. And Scarlett, like Eulalie, refused to trade her lifelong happiness to please anyone, least of all her parents.

"How could I return to Tara?" thought Scarlett. "How could I when 'I know you still live and breathe and can sing and dance and hold me in your arms,'" she quoted, retrieving the other pages of the letter and grazing them lightly with her lips before placing them lovingly into the bottom of the carpetbag.

* * *

Scarlett arrived at the docks and had wandered around for quite some time before she found Rhett's ship, which he had shown her yesterday. Well, she found the ship, but didn't find him and when she finally did, she found it hard to catch his attention. There was so much commotion on the docks just before a sailing and men where mulling about everywhere, some hustling while others dallied about; some shouting orders and others hauling supplies on board. It was just before dawn when Rhett next saw her and there was a tenseness about her, a glow in her eyes that he had never seen before, and even in the dim light he could see the rosy flush on her cheeks. He grabbed a rope and swung himself masterfully from the ship onto the dock and took her hand. The physicality of his movement struck Scarlett like a blow and took her breath away.

"Scarlett! What are you doing here? Are you all right? What is it?" he said urgently.

At the touch of his hand on hers, she began to tremble. It was going to happen now, just as she had dreamed it. A thousand incoherent thoughts shot through her mind, and she could not catch a single one to mold into a word. She could only shake and look up into his face. Why didn't he speak?

"What is it?" he repeated. "A secret to tell me? How bad was it at home with Eulalie and Pauline?"

Suddenly she found her tongue and just as suddenly all the years of Ellen's teachings fell away and the words of Eulalie's letter and the forthright Irish blood of Gerald spoke from his daughter's lips.

"Yes—a secret. I love you. I know you must care about me because—" She stopped. Never before had she seen such a blank expression on anyone's face. "Rhett, do you care—you do, don't you?"

"Yes," he said dully. "I care. How could I not? We're alike. Both selfish rascals—"

"Oh, don't tease me now!" she interrupted. She plucked at his sleeve, speechless. This was not going as she envisioned this morning. Where was the leaping light of love that she dreamed of seeing in his black eyes? "Don't you want to—to marry me?"

He dropped her hand and laughed so loudly that several men on his ship turned to look at what their captain was up to. He regained his composure and then he replied, "Good Lord, no! My dear, I am not a marrying man."

He was saying things—things that made no sense. Her mind was quite blank, quite empty of all the thoughts that had surged through it only a moment before, and his words

made no more impression than rain on glass. They fell on unhearing ears, words that were swift and cold and matter of fact, spoken like a stranger simply stating a fact.

She was numb but life and feeling and comprehension were beginning to flow back into her.

"But you just said you cared for me."

"Scarlett, don't you see. Our timing is off. I'm about to set sail in less than an hour. I'll be gone for a month or more."

"Take me with you, please, Rhett! We would be so good together," she begged.

"Do you hear me? I do care because we're so much alike and like begets liking, but not now, not like this…" he shrugged uneasily, running his hand through his hair and over his rough, unshaven cheek. Was he trying to come up with a solution to their problem, her problem, or was he searching for a kind way to get rid of her. She surmised it was the latter.

"So after everything—after yesterday, you're just going to leave me," she shrieked. "Leave me alone in a city that is being bombarded night and day. Leave me alone because I can't go home. That's right! I can't go home, all because of you!" her voice trembled as it rose, drawing even more attention to the pair. "You're going to leave me here in Charleston! It will probably be invaded tomorrow and it's quite ungallant of you not to think that I might get hurt," she added tartly with a petulant pout on her face.

His eyes flickered with amusement. "I'd back you against the Yankees any day."

"I'm not sure that that's a compliment," she said uncertainly.

"It isn't," he answered. "What you must remember, my dear girl, is this: the Yankees aren't fiends. They haven't horns and hoofs, as you seem to think. They are pretty much like Southerners—except with worse manners, of course, and terrible accents."

"Why, the Yankees would—"

"Rape you? I think not. Though, of course, they'd want to."

"Oh, my God!" Scarlett's voice screamed silently. "What are we talking about? He's as nonchalant as if he was discussing the weather while my reputation is in shreds!"

"If you are going to talk vilely I shall…I shall," she cried, grateful that the shadows hid her crimson face. But she had nothing to threaten him with, absolutely nothing and the realization of what she had done overcame her with all of its monumental consequences.

Even amid her inner turmoil, she could hear him chuckling softly. Sometimes he was odious.

"Scarlett! Look at me!" he said, firmly grabbing hold of her shoulders and shaking her ever so slightly. "Yes, I care. God, I want you more than I've ever wanted any woman, but it seems like I have to wait for you. You keep yourself safe and sound and when I return in a month or so—"

"We'll get married?" Scarlett finished for him, thinking all was not lost after all. If she were engaged, she was sure she could convince Ellen that Rhett was honorable.

"No, I'm complimenting your intelligence by asking you to be my mistress without having first seduced you."

Mistress!

Her mind shouted the word, shouted that she had been vilely insulted. But in that first startled moment she did not feel insulted. She only felt a furious surge of indignation that he should think her such a fool when she was expecting an engagement. He must think her a fool if he offered her a proposition like that, instead of the proposal of matrimony she had been expecting. Rage, punctured vanity and disappointment threw her mind into a turmoil and, before she even thought of the high moral grounds on which she should upbraid him, she blurted out the first words which came to her lips—

"Mistress! What would I get out of that except a passel of brats?"

And then her jaw dropped in horror as she realized what she had said. He laughed until he choked, peering at her in the shadows as she sat, stricken dumb, pressing her handkerchief to her mouth.

"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 beclouding the issue with mouthings about sin and morality."

How could she have said such a thing! How could she, Ellen's daughter, with her upbringing, have sat there and listened to such debasing words and then made such a shameless reply? She should have screamed. She should have fainted. She should have turned coldly away in silence and swept from the dock.

"They were right! Everyone was right! You…you aren't a gentleman!" she screamed.

"Ah, my dear, how inadequate."

"You are nothing but a cowardly, nasty, lowdown, filthy…" Scarlett's mind raced desperately, searching for the words to hurt him as badly as her had hurt her. Her earlier humiliation with Eulalie and Pauline was all but forgotten when stacked up against this latest catastrophe, which definitely trumped every other embarrassing moment in her life thus far. Broken and belittled, Scarlett had to admit that they were right! Eulalie and Pauline were right. Rhett had used her and humiliated her for his own purposes. He was not a marrying man she thought bitterly with regret as her heart writhed in agony.

"And to think you told me of your undying love for me—" A swift slap to his face cut off any further words from him. Instinctively, his hand rose to his face and he rubbed his cheek ruefully.

"I hate you Rhett Butler and I'll hate you until the day I die!" Her eyes, gleeful and full of expectation just a few moments earlier, were now cold and unfeeling as they looked upon him one last time. At that moment, she did hate him, more than she ever thought possible. She turned swiftly and raising her head high, strode purposefully away from the docks.

Rhett stood alone watching Scarlett take off with a proud lift of her chin. He absentmindedly rubbed his cheek again which still smarted from her stinging slap and a faint gleam of admiration sparked in the depth of his eyes.

"Hey, Captain!" called a man on board the ship. "We need you below decks."

Rhett didn't turn to look. He simply held up his hand to silence the man, telling him without words, he'd be there in his own due time. Instead of hastening below decks, Rhett stood on the dock watching Scarlett. Had she turned around, she would have gotten great satisfaction in seeing Rhett in his own emotional turmoil, which he did not trouble to disguise. He appeared anxious, tense and frustrated. Had she seen him, Scarlett, with her newfound enlightenment, would have explained it by saying his anxiety was due to his upcoming voyage. But Karl, who stood on deck awaiting Rhett's return, knew better.

Rhett watched Scarlett until her diminutive figure became even smaller and turned to talk to a pickaninny. She reached into her reticule, and Rhett assumed, gave the child a few coins—perhaps to take her to the station. He was confident that she would get safely to Tara and explain things to her mother and then…and then…What?

The child ran off and Scarlett turned the corner and disappeared from sight.