Thanks for the reviews! It's so cool to know there are still people out there who love these characters as much as me. I promise Rhett will be making an appearance soon, but I'm really focusing on Scarlett for the fic. I always viewed her as a strong heroine in a time when women weren't allowed to be heroes. I thought it would be really interesting to see what Scarlett might do when she encounters the suffragette movement. Please read and review. I love constructive criticisms and what readers would like to see happen next! (Also, I'm literally making this up as I go, so bear with me if it isn't completely cohesive. This is the first time I've written anything that wasn't a college essay in about 8 years.)
Also Note: I'm having issues with formatting. I apologize in advance.
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Scarlett and Ellen continued to make small talk as they walked back towards the Girl's school. Scarlett was surprised to find how much she enjoyed the company of this woman she had just met. She thought briefly of the friends she'd had as a child. Everyone she knew had either moved on or died.
During their walk she learned Ellen had helped her mother transform their little one room school into the prestigious academy it was today. At the moment 120 girls roamed the halls of the school, all of them better educated and aware of the world around them than the generation before.
To be sure, Ellen and the late Mrs. Carrington had faced their difficulties in establishing the school. There were still types who thought the level of education they were offering the girls was a waste of time or an abomination. She received letters daily from men and women alike who found fault with the courses the school offered young women. Most of the letters she received were from men who not only found fault with women educating themselves, but also that girls of color were admitted to the school. It was too soon and a slap in the face of the men who had died to protect the south.
Scarlett found herself opening up to Ellen once more. She was surprised to find how much alike she and Ellen were. She had found someone who was no stranger to the wagging tongues of society in the old south and it was nice to be able to talk about her frustrations. She talked of the mills and the store. How she had saved her family and Ashley without ever once being acknowledge for the work she had done to keep so many families afloat.
"You seem like a keen business woman, Scarlett," said Ellen, "We could really use someone like you for our cause."
"Cause? What cause? I think I've had enough causes for ten lifetimes."
"Sorry," replied Ellen, "I know we've only just met and what with the circumstances this probably seems a bit forward, but a group of woman and I have been working for something we've been calling 'women's rights.' We meet biweekly at the presbyterian church."
"I don't think I follow you. Women's rights?"
"Yes! My dear Mrs. Butler, you of all the women I've met would be most welcome in our movement. Our goal is total equality to men. When I was a child my mother used to read to me from a women's magazine called, The Lily, in it were stories of women from all classes and races. It opened my eyes to the possibility of a world where not only are women like us allowed to own businesses without fear of retribution, but to vote! Can you imagine? Sometimes I feel if women had had the vote, the whole war could have been prevented."
Scarlett thought back to a day that seemed ages ago. War, war war, all this talk about war has spoiled every party I've been to. If she had had the power back then to stop the following decade of pain, would she?
"I've honestly never thought about it before. Personally I've never had a head for politics and books."
"Come with me this Saturday. We're working on organizing a new magazine for southern women and I'm sure the other ladies would just love your point of view. Tell me you'll come!"
Scarlett paused before answering. Is this really want she wanted? Was this what she needed? It'd been so long since she'd had a group of friends she felt comfortable around. "I'm not sure," Scarlett began, "To be honest, I've never enjoyed the company of other women in their sewing circles. I detest gossip."
"It's much more than that! These are all strong, competent women who are running businesses and working to make sure all young women have the freedom to be who they want to be."
"Can I think about it?" asked Scarlett.
"Of course!" gushed Ellen, "When we get back to the school I can give you one of our fliers and you can read what we're doing."
As the turned the last corner to the school, Ellen glimpsed the elegant black carriage of Eleanor Butler at the gate to the school. "Oh, look! Eleanor is here. I'm sure you're impatient to be connected with your mother-in-law."
Scarlett couldn't only mutter a dumbfounded, "Oh." What was Eleanor doing here? She didn't recall sending for the woman. Perhaps Uncle Henry had called out to the closest relative to help with the funeral preparations for Ella. (Which reminded her, she must send a letter to Wade this evening and have him come at once.)
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Eleanor was waiting for the women in the formal parlor of the school. She noted with pleasure the girls she saw walking gaily through the hallways while others sat on benches reading thick tomes. She would never call herself a progressive woman, but she had known the Carringtons her entire life and after raising an independent daughter herself, she acknowledge the good that schools like this did for daughters of the south.
She rose to great Scarlett as the women entered the parlour. "Scarlett, my love, it's so good to see you. I'm so sorry it couldn't be under better circumstances. Come sit." She grabbed Scarlett's hand and let her to the nearest chair.
"I sent for Rhett as soon as I'd heard about dearest Ella. That poor child. She and Bonnie both had a special sweetness to them that I won't soon forget."
"You called for Rhett?" Scarlett gulped.
"Of course! It's only been a few hours and of course I have no idea where the damned man is. Even with you he was never able to sit in one place for long. I don't imagine it will take him longer than a week to arrive."
"Oh," was all Scarlett could muster. "I hadn't thought to…"
"Of course you didn't dear! I can't imagine where my head were be if I were in your position. You must let me arrange everything for you."
"That isn't necessary," interjected Scarlett, "I've sent to Uncle Henry and he is more than capable of handling this...delicate...situation."
"Nonsense! Give me his information, I'll make sure everything gets taken care of dear. Ellen, could you be a dear and grab us some coffee," then she whispered, "Given the circumstance, I feel a bit of whiskey with the coffee is in order. Let's get this young lady the comfort she needs." Ellen smiled, nodded, and left the room.
"Now, I don't mean to cut short this visit, but I wanted to get right to it. I insist that you stay with me for the remainder of your time in Charleston. We're family and I can't stand the idea of you staying in a hotel or at the school while you're here. And besides, Rhett should be arriving and I know you'll want some alone time and my home has guest rooms that are almost entirely secluded from the rest of my house. So now tell me, will you be joining us."
Scarlett looked at the woman who looked so much like Rhett, but smelled like her mother. The only other times she'd met Eleanor had been under similar circumstances and she'd not had the time to talk with her one on one. This side of Eleanor was not something she had expected. "I...I'm not sure what to do next. I hadn't thought of it."
"Of course not, dear. That's why I'm here. Let me take the weight off your shoulders and take care of you. No offense darling, but you don't look well."
Scarlett sighed, a little defeated, "I know."
"Well, it's settled then. We'll have my men move your things to my home as soon as possible. Have you by chance, made plans for dinner?"
"I believe Ellen and I were going to have a private dinner here."
"Oh, good. I'll take my leave then. You two enjoy you dinner. I'll see you this evening." And with that she stood and left.
Ellen came back a few minutes later to find Scarlett alone and deep in thought. "Here," she said places the coffee and whiskey next to Scarlett, "This will help a bit." She sipped a bit of her own coffee and sat across from Scarlett.
Suddenly, Scarlett burst into tears. "I can't take this. I can't take any of it anymore."
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Rhett was in a saloon in Black Hills, South Dakota when he received his mother's telegram. When he saw who it was from his interest was only mildly piqued. He'd been out here the better part of six months digging for gold in the empty hills and rivers. Unlike his travels to California and Alaska, he'd spent more money on whores to cure his boredom than he had made in any real profit.
As he opened the telegram, his favorite of the saloon's whores sat on his lap. He tried not to think of the reasons why he prefered her to the other girls as he opened the message. She smiled blankly, laughing at a joke a blonde girl to the right of them had made. When she smiled he could almost see Scarlett there in her face. Her hair had more of a curl and her breasts were bigger, but the resemblance was uncanny.
When he had first established himself as a regular client he had avoided her. When he hadn't heard from Scarlett after he sent the divorce papers he swore he would erase his memory of her in much the same way he had hoped to erase Ashley's from hers. He drank heavily and preferred the blondes. It was only a matter of time before he drunkenly took her to bed, calling her by Scarlett's name and whispering sweet nothings in her ears.
If she'd been a smarter girl, she'd have known his heart was another's, but as it was, she found herself falling in love with a man more than twice her age. For the last month and a half he had requested her exclusively and she had been with no other men. She wasn't fool enough to think that he would marry her, but she was enough of a fool to think he would take her with him when he left.
Lately, he'd noticed more grays in his hair than before and his belts fit a little tighter despite the fact that he spent hours of hard physical labor looking for gold. The years of drinking were getting to him and he was acutely aware that his life of gallivanting across the continents was slowly coming to a close.
He read the letter twice over to make sure his eyes had not deceived him. Ella dead? Scarlett in Charleston? His heart broke to pieces when he thought of Ella, sweet Ella alone on her deathbed. He wondered vaguely if Scarlett had bothered to be with her daughter in her last hours, but quickly shook the thought away.
He wasn't ready to see Scarlett again he knew that. And he damned well knew he wasn't ready to put his third child in an early grave.
Rhett lit up a cigar and used the match to burn the letter and ordered another whiskey before whisking not only his Scarlett copy-cat, but the other two girls closest to him up to his room. He had no intention of remembering tonight.