"Ground not upon dreams, you know they are ever contrary." Thomas Middleton
It was ten past five when the mills came into view at the end of the sandy forest road, and Scarlett's heart constricted. Taking in the complex of small clustered buildings amidst the dark pine trees, she reined in the horse and halted, gazing ahead as if unsure what to do next. She could see Hugh and the team drivers sitting on a pile of lumber outside the lumber yard, probably waiting to be paid off. She wondered why Ashley had not done it yet, since it was his task whenever she was not around to do so. She hesitated, unwilling to interact with anyone except the man she'd come to see.
The tepid air of the late afternoon caressed her sensitive skin; it felt oddly comfortable to breathe it in deeply, to linger for a moment under the treetops and listen to the faint sounds of the mighty woods. She had always been one to appreciate nature, its bewildering variety and simple beauties, so familiar and soothing in their constancy. But not even Mother Nature could calm her now, so overpowering was the thought of the task that lay ahead.
Usually, the sight of the mills was one that never failed to make her feel proud and confident. She considered them one of her greatest achievements. Her hard work under those wooden roofs had enabled her to support her family, hold Tara – and keep Ashley close to her.
Back then, in those early days after her marriage to Frank, with Melanie's unwitting help, she had more or less tricked Ashley into staying in Georgia and working for her at the mills, a scheme she had never regretted. Not particularly because Ashley had ever been of much help to her as a colleague - quite the contrary. She often had to double-check his calculations, urge him to collect debts or encourage him to be stricter with the staff. However, although she had been surprised at first, to say the least, that he was not a good business man, she had quickly arranged herself with his infirmities, for his existing or non-existing skills had never been the reason why she'd asked him to work for her in the first place. She had wanted to be close to him, for the thought of losing him, at that time, had been unbearable. With Frank's ring on her finger, she'd still wanted Ashley by her side, maybe more so than ever before. She had known that working beside him would give her plenty of opportunities to seek him out and share at least some fleeting hours of the day with him. She had thought, then, that she needed him in order to stay alive and keep her head up, her heart strong.
And indeed, up until yesterday, she'd hardly ever neglected a chance to drive out to the mills and be with him.
But yesterday was gone, and now... now, everything was different. Now, she gazed ahead with constricting emotions in her heart. On the one hand, there was eagerness, a burning desire to see him and find out what he truly felt. She needed to hear from his lips either a declaration of love, sealed with a lover's kiss, or the confirmation of her worst fears. Either way, she could not go on with the knowledge that he was a regular at Belle Watling's brothel without confronting him. But on the other hand, the fear of his rejection was so great, it made her feel weak and uncertain, quite unlike herself. She was still in shock after his betrayal, unsure of the shape of his heart or anything else that concerned him. Most of all, though, she was not sure how to confront him. What on earth was she to say to him? How should she start and how could she get her message across? She wasn't even sure she knew what her message was, for that matter.
But, as hurriedly as these questions went in and out of her mind, she came to a practical decision. Although she did not know how exactly she was going to achieve what she wanted, she at least knew what she wanted: answers. Answers to the questions that tortured her, and they were simple questions. Why would you go to Belle's when we promised to be faithful to each other? How could you do this to me, after everything we've been through?
No, she would be damned before she backed down now. Her steely resolve - notorious, essential - forbid her to turn back. She was determined to get answers from Ashley, for if she didn't, she would surely go mad.
And with that, she straightened her shoulders and took up the reins once more. The horse started moving towards the mills, and suddenly Scarlett couldn't wait to get there. There was a strange gleam in her catlike green eyes that not even Rhett would have been able to decipher. This was a turning point, the end of an era, with no guarantee for the beginning of a new and better one. After her conversation with Ashley, she would either have him forever and rejoice, or forever hold her peace, put to silence by his indifference. The dark trees around her began to sway conspiratorially in the gentle breeze, as if they knew something she did not.
She brought the buggy to a halt in front of the right wing of the great lumber yard, where the office was situated, and was immediately greeted by Hugh and the team drivers. Sighing inwardly, she let Hugh help her out of the buggy and asked without much of a greeting in return, "Is Ashley here?"
"Yes, he's in the office," said Hugh, his habitually worried expression firmly in place at the sight of her offhand tone. "He's trying to - I mean, he's going over the books."
"Oh," she said, not bothering with his awkward slip of the tongue. "I must speak to him."
Hugh forced a smile. "I though you weren't coming today. You're never late. I mean, I don't mean to say -"
"I've got an important matter of business to discuss with him," she interrupted him unceremoniously. She had better things to do than dally away time with this fool.
She paid off the teamsters and Hugh, knowing they would be on their way as soon as they had the money, which would give her some kind of privacy with Ashley. Then, abruptly leaving them, she walked toward the office, showing plainly by her manner that she did not care to be accompanied. Inside the lumber yard, she hesitated for a moment, once again oddly struck by the magnitude of what she was about to do. But it had to be done, there was no going back. Quietly, she tiptoed to the office and laid a quivering hand on the doorknob. Before she could change her mind, she pushed it down and opened the door. She could feel the sweat on her back.
Ashley, bent over the books on the work desk, looked up at her with mild surprise, but on his lips there was a little smile that was almost a grin, as if to say: I know you can never stay away for long.
"Why, Scarlett," he said, what are you doing here this time of the day? I wasn't expecting you."
She couldn't say anything. She just stared at him, wide-eyed, speechless, unable to move. The last thing she'd seen of him last night had been his blonde hair in the moonlight as he made a dash to Belle Watling's door. A few moments later her world had fallen apart. And now he was here, at this very hour, in the office at the lumber yard, his hair as bright and his smile as handsome as ever, although he did look a little tired. It was ridiculous.
How could he smile like that, after everything that had transpired? How could he be so... so hypocritical? She marveled at him, and not in a good way, which was a miracle in itself. He was smiling at her as if nothing had changed, as if they could go on as they always had. But of course, he had no idea she knew his secret. Well, she would teach him better. Before she could stop it, her brows flew together in a scowl, and Ashley's smile wavered a little around the edges. He frowned, too, confused by her silence and saturnine look.
Scarlett, for once sensing another human being's notions, quickly recovered herself and forced a tight-lipped smile to her lips, which only confused Ashley more.
"My dear," he made another try, attempting to lighten the mood, "why aren't you helping Melly get ready for the surprise party?"
Scarlett swallowed and raised her brows as if amused by his words. "Why, Ashley Wilkes!" she cried, trying to sound coquettishly indignant, but it came out rather awkwardly. "You weren't supposed to know a thing about it. Melly will be so disappointed if you aren't surprised."
This sounded more like Scarlett, and Ashley smiled again, relieved. "Oh, I won't let on. I'll be the most surprised man in Atlanta."
"Now, who was mean enough to tell you?" Scarlett inquired, buying time to sort out her thoughts.
"Practically every man Melly invited. General Gordon was the first. He said it had been his experience that when women gave surprise parties they usually..."
Ashley's voice prattled on, but Scarlett was not even listening anymore. She looked at him and through him and all she could think of was the fact that he'd betrayed both her and Melanie. And perhaps, she thought in a moment of rare wisdom, he had betrayed Melanie even more, for she was not only his wife but also the most gullible female known to mankind, a woman who would never think ill of her husband and wouldn't believe him to be capable of such a deed, not in a thousand years. Suddenly, the thought of how much Melanie would suffer upon learning of Ashley's sin struck Scarlett with a feeling of dread and anxiety, though she did not know why. Why would she care if Melanie got hurt? It was what she wanted, wasn't it?
"...with a bottle of whisky and he was too drunk to get out of bed and - oh, every man who's ever had a surprise party given him told me."
"The mean things!" cried Scarlett, automatically, like an actress who'd played her part too many times to forget her line. She did not quite know how to approach the topic, she needed more time, and so she looked at him, truly looked at him for the first time in many months. And for the first time, her heart did not leap with happiness. It did not swell in her bosom until it positively ached with pleasure, ached as with a burden of joyful, hot, unshed tears. Instead, it ached with something terrible, something ominous, and she couldn't place it. And also, it ached with a feeling of anger that was growing with every second that passed. She had a mad impulse to snatch off her bonnet and toss it into the air and cry "Why, Ashley, WHY?" Then she thought how startled Ashley would be if she did this, and she suddenly laughed, laughed mirthlessly until tears came to her eyes. He laughed, too, throwing back his head as though he enjoyed her laughter, thinking her mirth came from the friendly treachery of the men who had given Melly's secret away, not from the pain he'd unwittingly inflicted upon her.
"Well, Scarlett. I'm going over the books. Come, do sit down."
Too sad and confused to protest, she sat down in the chair before the desk. Ashley, following her, seated himself on the corner of the rough table, his long legs dangling easily. Sensing her odd expression once more, he frowned and attempted a light joke. "Scarlett, dear, what is it? You, not in a mood to have a look at my terrible miscalculations? I'm surprised indeed."
Her head snapped up, her lips twitching as she thought to herself, I'm surprised, too, Ashley. Surprised that you're such a hypocrite, liar and cheater.
He had never seen a more odd expression than hers at that very moment, for she now sported a light smile he would have described as teasing, had it not been for the thinly veiled scorn in her eyes.
"You're right, Ashley, I just can't be bothered to fool with any books today. When I'm wearing a new bonnet, it seems like all the figures I know leave my head." She did not know why she said this, but the words left her mouth automatically. It was as if her brain was trying to prepare her for the onslaught by keeping Ashley at bay for just a little longer with nonsense such as this. She realized dimly that most of the things she'd ever said to him, except for the times when she'd foolishly declared her feelings, had been absolute nonsense.
"Figures are well lost when the bonnet's as pretty as that one," Ashley said now. And then, to her absolute horror, "Scarlett, you get prettier all the time!"He slipped from the table and, laughing, took her hands, spreading them wide so he could see her dress. "You are so pretty! I don't believe you'll ever get old!"
At his touch Scarlett realized that, without being conscious of it, she had hoped that just this thing would happen. All this afternoon, she had hoped for the warmth of his hands, the tenderness of his eyes. This was the first time they had been utterly alone since the cold day in the orchard at Tara, the first time their hands had met in any but formal gestures, and through the long months she had hungered for closer contact. But, to her immense surprise, it did not stir in her the feelings she had thought it would.
How odd that the touch of his hands did not excite her! Once his very nearness would have set her a-tremble. Now she felt a curious aversion, an almost physical need to push him away. No fever leaped from his hands to hers. This puzzled her, made her disconcerted. He had always been her Ashley, her bright, shining darling and she had loved him better than life. But now she felt nothing even close to warm regard, let alone all-consuming love. There was no strain or fever, only anger and shock at his behavior. How dare he flirt with her, compliment her and touch her with his contaminated hands after what he had done? How could he do this?
"Do not touch me," she said suddenly, pulling her hands away so roughly he let out a surprised breath.
"Scarlett, what -" He leaned forward again but withdrew before the storm in her eyes. "I don't understand -"
"Oh, then I will make you understand!" She jumped up from the little stool, its legs screeching over the wooden floor. She was hurt, bewildered, enraged. Nothing and no one had ever managed to make her equally angry. She stood with her hands balled into fists, her heart beating rapidly. "Don't you dare touch me, Ashley Wilkes, or I swear, I'll -"
"Scarlett!" He cried out, getting up as well and holding up his hands as if trying to calm her down. "What on earth - "
But she wouldn't have it. Not anymore.
"I cannot believe your gall," she cut him short. "I can't believe how you can even look me in the eye, me! How could you, Ashley? How could you, after everything we've been to each other? After everything we were?" Her voice sounded uncommonly shrill even to her own ears but she didn't give a damn.
His eyes were less tranquil now. He looked utterly confused and it made her hate him even more. "The gall to look you in the eye? Scarlett, what have I done? What have I done to make you so... terribly angry? Please, dear - "
"Oh, the time for "dear" is over!" She hurled back with a violent jerk of her head. She finally spat out, "I saw you, Ashley. I saw you the other night!"
He blanched and she thought she had him, but still he wouldn't give in. "You saw me, Scarlett? Where? When?" He asked quietly, but there was a hopeless quality to his tone.
She huffed incredulously, stunned by his impertinence. She surprised herself and him when she added calmly, with an iciness more cutting than any rage, "Outside Belle Watling's, last night."
Something died in his eyes, something that looked like hope. He sat down on the stool she had deserted and let out a heavy sigh the likes of which she'd never heard before. It was the sigh of a man utterly defeated. He looked at her, cheeks burning with shame, but still he held her scorching gaze, held it until the sheer magnitude of its condemnation made him look away again. "Scarlett, I - I don't know what to say." She took a step forward and he recoiled, as if his presence was too much for him. The cowardliness of the gesture made her stop short, and she looked down at him, bewildered.
"You don't know what to say? Well, I don't know, either. I honestly think there are no words for something so... so hideous as what you've done."
He flinched. Her words had not the sharpness of a knife but the full-on force of a cudgel.
"How could you do that, Ashley?" She shrieked now. "How could you go to that place and consort with those... those nasty, trashy things like some common scoundrel? How could you go to that Watling creature and have her greet you like some old guest and - "
"How come you were there?" He interrupted her, getting up again and turning his back to her.
"I was walking," she confessed immediately, surprised by his interruption. "It was such a beautiful night out and I thought – well, I wanted some piece and quiet. Some time all by myself. But then I lost track of where I was going, and suddenly I saw a man standing there in the darkness. And then I realized where I was and what that man was about to do. And I found it quite funny." She laughed mirthlessly. "But then I recognized you, and at first I wouldn't believe it. But I had to make sure. And so I went after you, and then – well, I overheard your conversation with that Watling creature. And when I heard your voice, I knew for sure that it was you and that you were about to enter that terrible house."
He nodded involuntarily. "It's true. I was there. I've … been there many times."
"But why?" She cried. "Why, Ashley?"
"Oh, Scarlett -" he turned around, an expression on his face that almost made her pity him. "I can't explain. You wouldn't understand. I haven't – I mean, it had been so long that I couldn't – oh, God."
Uncomprehending, she frowned. "Couldn't – what? Oh, Ashley, tell me why. Tell me why you did it although we promised each other - " She stopped, confused. They were entering dangerous waters now, and she immediately found proof in his eyes. He looked at her with shock and a strange glimmer of guilt, and she realized that he knew exactly what she meant.
"Promised, Scarlett?"
"When we promised to be faithful to each other, Ashley." She blurted out, not heeding the consequences. She had been longing to talk about this.
"My God," was his reply. "What a mess I've made of things. Oh Scarlett, I am a swine." He rested his golden head in his hands, but this time no pity was stirred in her breast. She waited for his next words. "You're right. I wanted you to promise me that because I couldn't bear the thought of your – of Rhett Butler touching you." He admitted openly, and although she had known this, she was still stunned by his bluntness. It was so unlike him. "I knew full well that you might very likely take it to heart. I should never have done that, Scarlett. It was wrong of me, and I apologize. It was my selfishness that made me do it... my selfish disdain for the feelings of others."
"You, selfish?" Scarlett asked.
"Yes," he said slowly. "I am selfish. I've been selfish, always. Especially when it comes to you. And for that, I cannot forgive myself."
She was touched by his apology, and, although aware of the fact they were getting off the actual subject, she couldn't help but think deeply about the meaning of his words. He was sorry for making her promise to be physically faithful to him. He wished he'd never done it. But that could only mean -
"Do you mean to say," she began, "that that promise – it meant nothing to you?" She finished, her voice too high to sound natural.
"Please -"
"No, no..." she went on. "Of course it didn't. Otherwise you'd never have gone to Belle's. Not if you really loved me."
At the word love, he flinched as if she'd beaten him, but he did not meet her eyes.
"Ashley, look at me."
He did. And as she looked into his eyes, those tranquil orbs in which she had drowned so many times, but which were now only pools of cloudy water to her, she asked the one question that weighed as heavily on her mind as a milestone.
"Do you love me?"
His shoulders sank, it was a sight almost too miserable to be borne, but she couldn't make herself look away. Time stood still, it was eerily quiet in the room. Scarlett held her breath, waiting impatiently for his reply. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again, and, in an attempt to urge him on, Scarlett took a step forward until she was very close to him. Still silent, he rose from the little stool and moved as far away from her as the room allowed, avoiding her pleading gaze.
It was this gesture that spoke louder than any words.
With an incredulous laugh, Scarlett sank down upon the stool and let her shoulders slump, abandoning her ladylike pose without a second thought. She felt drained, defeated, her anger momentarily forgotten.
He did not love her.
He did not love her, had never loved her, and never would. It was a galling, a startling truth. A truth that broke her heart, why, of course it did – and yet... Oddly enough, it did not shock her as much as it should have. After all, this was Ashley. The man she'd coveted for years. Shouldn't she be crying now, weeping for the love she had lost, as she'd done last night? But she felt no need to cry. For some reason or other, it did not hurt that much. She felt as if he wasn't worth her tears, did not deserve her pain. No, she registered, mildly surprised, accepting it the way a child would accept a gift, she wasn't going to cry.
She looked up at his slouched form, and said calmly, "I knew it. I knew it last night, when I saw you. But I wouldn't accept it until I heard it from you. But now I know. Yes – now I know." She repeated like a parrot. Ashley still wasn't looking at her.
"Why did you lead me on, Ashley, if you knew you didn't love me? Why did you make me believe we'd be together one day?"
At these words, his head snapped up.
"Oh, Scarlett, be fair. I never -"
"Yes you did. Time and time again you made me believe you cared something for me, and I was such a stupid fool I didn't realize you never meant a word. Oh Ashley, you should have known better. Don't you understand what I – what I sacrificed?"
As she said this, she knew it was true. She had sacrificed a lot for the sake of being faithful to Ashley. She had given up on her friendship and closeness with Rhett, things that were important to her, she suddenly realized. She remembered the long, cold nights in her lonely bed, shivering in the absence of Rhett's warmth. She'd missed the talking, his soothing voice. She'd missed him from the moment she'd banished him from her room. And it had all led to nothing. Ashley did not love her and had only made her promise in order to spite Rhett. With this new knowledge, her promise of chastity suddenly seemed utterly foolish.
She shook herself out of her reverie and noticed that he was looking at her with a weird expression in his eyes, as if there was something on the tip of his tongue. But then he recovered himself and simply nodded, solemnly, resigned to her words.
"You're right, Scarlett, and I'm so sorry. Please accept my apology for all my past behavior. My treatment of you was ungentlemanly and I can only hope you'll be able to forgive me one day."
She simply shrugged. "I don't know yet. But it doesn't really matter now. You still haven't explained about Belle."
"Scarlett, how can I make you understand without offending your sensibilities? Believe me, you don't want to know my reasons. They're too... primal and despicable. It would do you no good to hear them."
Primal, despicable... why, was he some kind of animal? She suddenly longed to be more eloquent, to understand hidden meanings and read in a person's eyes whatever they felt, like Rhett did. But maybe Ashley was right. Maybe it was better if she never learned what drove him to Belle's in the first place. Although she had already changed in the short span since the terrible discovery of Ashley's secret – even if only unconsciously – her most essential traits remained, and her propensity for ignorance did not desert her now. Yes, it was better to leave Ashley's reasons in the dark. She had enough on her mind already.
"Fine, then" she said with a wave of her hand. "But you don't deny that you're a … a regular at that woman's whorehouse?"
He flinched at her coarse language and she grinned almost wickedly. He'd had it coming to him.
"I can't deny it. I won't. But it's over now, anyway. I won't be going back."
After a brief moment of silence, Scarlett quipped, "And what brought about this noble change of mind?" with a sarcasm rather uncharacteristic of her.
He looked oddly at her, as if she reminded him of someone else for a fleeting moment, before he replied, slowly, "I've made a promise. And I know I must stop because if I keep going back, I'll lose my self-respect. What little is left of it, for that matter. And also... I wouldn't be able to... to look Melly in the eye anymore." He averted his gaze and looked down at his hands.
Scarlett sighed heavily. They had avoided mentioning that name for the past agonizing twenty minutes, whether unconsciously or not, but now that Ashley had finally uttered it, Scarlett's heart constricted once more. Melanie. What would she make of all this if she knew? Would she be angry, sad, hurt? Scarlett knew that Melanie, although quintessentially docile and loving, was capable of a fierce hatred more chilling than her own fiery passions. Would she hate them both, the unfaithful husband and the disloyal friend? Another of those surprising but strangely self-evident realizations hit Scarlett, and she grasped that she wouldn't be able to bear Melanie's contempt. Secondly, she felt absolutely no desire to see the other woman hurt and broken. In fact, the thought was too terrible to be borne. She did not know where this sudden sympathy towards Melanie came from and she could not place it, but it was there, and as she looked up at Ashley, she realized that he felt the same. His eyes were pleading with her to understand, and, above all, never to reveal his secret to Melanie.
And she saw something else in his eyes as well, something she had seen there before but never acknowledged.
It was love.
Love for the wife who was worth so much more than he could ever give. Love for the wife whom she, Scarlett, had hated and envied for no apparent reason for so many years. She suddenly felt a burning shame the likes of which she'd never known. But at the same time, this final, this ultimate truth was so deliberating it almost brought her to tears.
"You love her." She said matter-of-factly, with not a trace of jealousy.
"I do, Scarlett. I love her more than life itself."
She got up from the little chair, too much in turmoil to remain seated. "Good God, Ashley, you've been such a fool. Couldn't you see that she was worth a million of me? You should have known years ago that you loved her and not me."
He loved Melanie and it did not hurt, but the feeling of shame remained. She had tried to take Ashley away from her most loyal and trusted female friend and it seemed utterly malicious, utterly pointless to her now. Not only Ashley had been a fool.
"Oh Scarlett, don't torture me. You don't know what I've been through. I'll never go back to Belle's, believe me. I cannot bear the thought of betraying Melly any longer."
"Because you can't live without her." Scarlett stated.
He shook his head. "She is the only dream I ever had that lived and breathed and did not die in the face of reality."
"Dreams!" Scarlett thought, an old irritation stirring. "Always dreams with him! Never common sense!"
Out loud she said simply, "We do not deserve her, Ashley. Neither I nor you."
"Promise me," he appealed to her now, turning around to face her, "promise me never to tell her. I beg you, Scarlett. I know I'm in no place to ask anything of you, but this I must ask. Please do not tell her. She would not understand. And she would hate me for it, hate me so fiercely it would tear me apart. If I lose her, I'll – I'll go mad."
"Don't be a fool, Ashley. Of course I'll never tell her. Not for your sake," she hastened to add, "but for hers."
"Thank you, Scarlett. I appreciate it, I really do. You cannot imagine how much."
But she could imagine. He was driven by the same fear that drove her - the terrible, unfathomable fear of losing Melanie's support, her unwavering love, her infinite kindness. For the first time ever, Scarlett realized how much she, too, loved and needed Melanie, how much she valued her friendship. And she promised to herself, then and there, that Melanie would never learn of this entire ordeal. To keep it secret would be Scarlett and Ashley's cross, the burden they'd have to carry for the rest of their lives. But it was worth it.
"We'll never let her know, Ashley. You can count on me. I promise."
Another promise between them.
"Thank you again, Scarlett. And please, let me tell you again how sorry I am, truly. For everything."
She nodded, not sure what to do next. She wanted to be angry with him still, she wanted to hurl insults at him and berate him for everything he had done, to her and, much more importantly, to Melanie. But the need was not as keen as it had been upon her arrival. Somehow, the words exchanged and the truths revealed had washed away the depth of her emotions, the urgency of her motives. What did it all matter now? There was nothing left to say.
"I think I must go now." She stated, and before he could say anything in return, she fled. She hastened out of the building, climbed onto the buggy and whipped the horse, making it jump forward in surprise. They took off at a tearing speed, and Scarlett did not turn around once. She needed to get away, now, immediately. She couldn't stand another minute in Ashley's presence.
It was not until about a quarter of an hour later, when she was about to leave the woods, that she brought the buggy to a halt, panting and breathless. She rested her head in her hands and wept, wept bitter tears - not for the loss of Ashley's love but the time she had wasted, the friend she had betrayed, and the fool she'd made of herself.
Here it is! Thoughts, comments, death threats? ;-)
As you may have noticed, I borrowed heavily from Margaret Mitchell in this chapter. I own nothing!