The truth is rarely pure and never simple. - Oscar Wilde
Lunch turned out to be a curious affair.
Scarlett could not help casting glances across the table at Rhett, who was sitting next to Melanie, all the while thinking about his whispered promise.
Later... later... later, his breathy voice echoed in her head, and she marveled at the power three little words could have over her – three words spoken by her own husband, whom she understood about as well as a book of French poetry. But one thing she did know: that he must want her. Why else would he have touched her liked that and said those words? There was no other explanation than that he wanted her.
This knowledge both startled and excited her. She did not understand him, just as she had never understood Ashley, but for the first time in years she actually cared what was truly going on in his mind.
Could Melanie possibly be right? Did he really love her? Wanting was one thing – and he had always made it clear that he desired her body. But love? To her it was so sacred a concept that she had never even thought of linking it to the kind of relationship she had with Rhett. Theirs was a marriage of polite indifference and cool detachment. But, she remembered suddenly, sharply, they had not always been estranged.
Sighing inwardly, her mind momentarily drifted back to their time in New Orleans, and a wistful look came to her face. She had been thinking of their honeymoon a lot lately. Oh, glorious, carefree days! The war and the destitute of the years before had been only a distant memory in New Orleans, so save and young and bold had she felt in that bustling, fabulous city – and with Rhett. I was happy then, she thought bitterly.
With half an ear she tried to keep track of the conversation. She did not know if she wanted Melanie to leave immediately or stay forever so that she would not be alone with Rhett. She was confused because they had said so little to each other today and yet it seemed to her as if so many things had changed. She needed to speak to him... but at the same time she was afraid of the possible consequences, one way or the other. Oddly, she thought that it had always been like this, with her reluctant to tackle the mystery that was Rhett for fear of unleashing a creature she could not handle. But now, now... she almost felt like taming the beast.
She could not concentrate, but luckily enough Melanie and Rhett found enough topics to talk about. They conversed rather easily; Rhett perfectly polite and interested, Melanie somewhat shy but growing more confident by the minute. He always had this effect on her, as on many shy people for that matter – Wade, too, felt at ease in his presence. Scarlett, though perhaps not one of the shy ones herself, knew better than anyone else how easy it was to talk to him if he decided to be civil for once. She recalled how she had once likened her conversations with him to dancing in old shoes that are more comfortable than any new and shiny pair. Yes, she had always enjoyed talking to Rhett. Only after Bonnie's birth had they stopped talking to each other, and she had always regretted the loss of his clever remarks, his biting humor, and the comfort his words could bring.
When, at some point, Melanie asked no one in particular to hand her the bowl of potatoes, Rhett and Scarlett simultaneously reached out to grab the said piece of china, their fingers brushing against the other's in the process. Scarlett immediately jerked her hand away and busied herself picking up her knife and fork once more, steadfastly avoiding to look at him while he handed the bowl to Melanie. But she was unable to resist and eventually risked a glance at him through the thick veil of her lashes, finding him watching her. She looked at him for a few seconds until she would rather have stuck her hand into a fire than hold his gaze any longer. His eyes reminded her of hot coals, burning patiently, searingly. Was he thinking of their kisses last night? Was he –
"Scarlett, my dear!" Melanie suddenly addressed her with a smile, reaching out to put a gentle hand atop hers. "You're awfully quiet. Are you alright?"
Startled, Scarlett looked up from her plate but quickly adopted what she hoped was a nonchalant expression. She wondered if Melanie knew what was going on between her and Rhett – but no, it was impossible. Melly surely was too naïve and innocent to even consider the possibility that something might be amiss in the Butler marriage. Still, Scarlett had always grudgingly admitted that Melanie had some sense to her, and so she could not help thinking that perhaps her sister-in-law realized more than she let on. It was a disconcerting thought, but she had no time to dwell on it. And in any case, Melanie was a Southerner and would never openly address an unwelcome topic in front of a friendly married couple, even if she did have suspicions. She was a lady.
"I'm fine, Melly. Just a little tired is all," Scarlett replied with a smile, pointedly picking up a piece of steak and guiding it into her mouth.
"Yes," Rhett threw in to her surprise, his expression innocent. "Scarlett did not get much sleep last night, Miss Melly. You mustn't hold her silence against her."
She almost dropped her food. How dare he? How dare he say such a thing? She blushed furiously at the thought of what had transpired between them on the stairs last night. Of course Melly could not possibly know what Rhett was hinting at, but still... Again the thought occurred to her that everything between her and Rhett belonged to a space that was intimate, private... and she wanted it to stay that way. She did not want anyone, not even Melanie, to know their secrets.
Still, the man's audacity amused her, and quite against her will. Unsure whether to be angered by his insinuation or excited by his nerve, she was torn between scowling and squirming under his gaze, but instead simply settled for a delicately raised eyebrow. But it was no use, for he knew all the same, his twinkling eyes giving him away. Oh, he would pay for this later.
Later... She pressed her lips together, cursing herself. How could one little word turn an adult person into such a shivering, nervous fool? She resented this loss of self-assured power, felt cornered by the power Rhett now seemed to have over her instead. She began chewing hastily, casting her eyes down. She hated that smug grin on his face.
"Oh, but of course not!" Melanie cried. "I know how hard she works and how tired she must be in the evenings. You really must make sure she doesn't exert herself too much, Captain Butler," she added, blushing as if unsure whether Scarlett would fly into a rage at her patronizing comment, but she courageously went on to say, "Ashley keeps telling me that she does too much. And I think he must know, for he sees her so often."
"He does indeed," Rhett said in a low voice, the twinkling humor gone from his eyes, but only Scarlett perceived the danger swinging in his words. It was strangely exciting, and she marveled at the way his voice could turn from light and teasing to deeply suggestive between heartbeats. She had almost forgotten the merits of listening to that voice, always carrying hidden messages, just like the incomprehensible poems he had once recited to her in Aunt Pitty's parlor.
"It's always a pleasure to learn just how much Mr. Wilkes cares about my wife's well-being, Miss Melly," Rhett went on.
There was a dangerous glint in his dark orbs that was lost on Melanie but transfixed Scarlett. She realized that she liked it when he spoke like that. Everything about him was deep and dark and dangerous, so unlike Ashley who was ever his same golden, reserved self.
What did Rhett make of Ashley, anyway, she thought suddenly, now that he knew that everything was different? She remembered what he had told her last night on the stairs: he had run into Ashley at Belle's and caught him doing... things she did not want to think about with some unnamed woman, which had caused him to blackmail Ashley into telling her, Scarlett, his dirty little secret. Only she had forestalled Ashley by confronting him.
Yesterday she had accused Rhett of having blackmailed Ashley in order to spite her, and part of her still believed this, for he had always told her how foolish her love for Ashley was in his eyes. But now she wasn't so sure anymore if paying her back had been his only motivation. If there was but the slightest truth to what Melanie had said earlier, her mathematical brain figured, namely that he felt something for her, Scarlett, then perhaps... perhaps he had wanted her to know the truth because she deserved to hear it from Ashley's lips, and because... because he wanted to make a new start? And yet, the idea that he would want to try again, to give "them" a chance, was a frightening and slightly ridiculous one. How to give something another chance that had never truly begun in the first place? In any case, she could not be sure.
She could not really be sure of anything, but she knew that Rhett did not not care about what she did or did not feel when it came to Ashley. He had always reacted strangely to her infatuation with her childhood beau, taunting and teasing her and making her want to fly into a rage although she knew that she mustn't, for fear of giving away the secret that was her love for Ashley. Or so she had supposed it to be. But Rhett had known, always he had known, and he had seen what a fool she had been making of herself. Blushing involuntarily, she recalled how he had rightfully berated her several times for lusting after another woman's husband. But she had shut her ears to him and all the clever things coming out of his mouth, and he had been powerless to stop her.
Oh, how right he had been! How blatantly, utterly right he had been about everything! She had been such a stupid, stupid fool when it came to Ashley, and she wished now with all her heart that she had listened to Rhett, although the thought of taking his advice in matters of love somehow riled her up. For along with the memory of Ashley's trespasses came the bitter knowledge that Rhett, too, had been consorting with nasty women for years, something she had not yet thought of in detail, because for some reason other than appearances and hurt pride, the idea that he would betray her thus cut her deeply, like a knife cuts through tender flesh to reveal the delicate bones beneath.
The conversation at the table had gotten completely away from Scarlett the moment Melanie had piped up once more to prattle on about her husband's appreciation of Scarlett and her accomplishments as a business woman. This was strange in itself, for but two days ago Scarlett would have soaked it all in and felt reassured once more of Ashley's undying love for her. But now she couldn't care less.
She busied herself finishing her meal, still casting the odd glance at Rhett. But he was not giving anything away, his composure relaxed and his manners as impeccable as they always were in Melanie's presence. Scarlett caught his eyes every now and then, but the dark gleam in them had vanished, and they were calm and blank now, like a dark canvas. He met her curious looks with a variety of placid and unreadable expressions that frustrated her. She felt like a cat watching a mouse hole, although what exactly she was waiting for she couldn't quite put her finger on.
She was on the verge of giving up on eliciting another reaction from him other than indifference when he suddenly raised one of his dark brows in that infuriatingly mocking fashion of his, and she pressed her lips together in anger and mortification. She had hoped for something else. But at the same time it reminded her a little of the old Rhett, who had been a taunting but funny devil instead of a cool and indifferent observer.
She swallowed whatever it was she felt at that moment and set upon cutting up another potato with perhaps a little more force than necessary.
What on earth had she gotten herself into?
He had been watching her blush, and glare, and glance sheepishly at him, then look away and frown, then start all over again, the entire time, and he had been enjoying himself immensely. Little gave him more pleasure than watching her struggle with her own thoughts, and seeing how the conflicting emotions would cause different expressions to appear on her pretty face. She was such a living contradiction and never the same; coy, bold, innocent, seductive, beautiful and dangerous. How could a man not love such a woman?
He could virtually see the wheels turning in her head, trying to grasp what he was thinking. It pleased him that she should finally show some interest in him, but he was unwilling as of yet to reveal all there was to know. And so, having looked intensely at her but once when their hands had touched, to give her something to think about, and then having lost his nerve for a brief moment when Miss Melly had spoken of Ashley's "fondness" for Scarlett, he busied himself returning her glances with polite indifference.
She was certainly making him curious, and he was dying to know what she was thinking of. When he had met her gaze half an hour ago, across the lawn, he had virtually seen the sparks flying between the two of them. He had seen the look in her eyes – there could be no doubt that she had been attracted to him in that moment. He had felt a weird sensation of happiness and hope surge through him and immediately decided to walk over to the two ladies in order to look more closely into his wife's eyes. It was always like this with Scarlett – you had to corner her, frighten her in order to achieve what you wanted.
What I want I take if I can get it, and so I wrestle neither with angels nor devils...
He had felt her surprise and smiled inwardly at her shivering as he bent down to kiss her chastely on the cheek. She was such an innocent thing, for all her charming ways and coquetry. The knowledge that she knew only a fraction of what desire could actually do to a person made him want her even more. He would willingly teach her everything... if she would only let him. There was a whole world of passionate glory out there that she had not yet experienced, although she was made for physical love. It had always seemed such a waste to him that a woman as desirable and passionate as Scarlett should miss out on the pleasures of intimacy.
In any case, he had watched her intently the entire time; he had watched her scowl and frown when he mentioned ambiguously that he would not miss Melanie's party for the world, of course hinting at the fact that he would be encountering Ashley Wilkes there. Jealously was still burning brightly within him – old habits die hard – but he was growing more confident by the minute that Scarlett's passion for the golden-haired fool was irrevocably gone and that his, Rhett's, chances of winning her heart had never been better.
He could see the change in her, the way she was looking at him with a questioning look in those eyes, in whose depths swam his entire world. What did she want to know so desperately? Was it not all so blatantly, painfully obvious? He could see the way she was drawn to him but at the same time seemed to shrink away, and it excited him. It meant that she was not sure about something. That she was thinking of him. That her perception of him had changed.
And she seemed to have changed with regard to other aspects as well, and within less than two days. The way she had acted in Melanie's presence had surprised him, and he had felt an odd sense of pride. He had always known what she was capable of, and nothing could have pleased him more than seeing her treat Melanie the way she deserved to be treated: with patience, kindness, and respect. He was sure now that nothing would ever turn Scarlett's heart against her friend again. She had decided to be good to the woman she had loathed for so long, and nothing on earth would break that iron will.
Yes, she had changed in more than one way, and she definitely felt something for him. Now he only needed to kindle this fire and nurture it carefully, or else he would be left with nothing but the ashes of a broken dream, the shattered remnants of something that might have been beautiful if only they had tried hard enough. And he knew himself well enough to know that he was not one to pick up the broken pieces and glue them together, and pretend the mended whole was as good as new. No. This time he wanted everything, or nothing.
He was completely lost in thought, although he would never let it show. He had just settled on recalling the way her lips had parted when she had tilted her head up to him, there on the porch, when Melanie suddenly announced her intention to take her leave. He snapped out of his reverie and rewarded their guest with the most charming smile he could muster, which earned him a narrow glance from his wife.
Having exhausted herself of party topics to speak about, and nervous about the time, Melanie assured them that she had to get going since there were still a ton of things to prepare for Ashley's party tomorrow, and because she did not want to "bother" the two of them any longer.
"You don't mind, do you, Scarlett dear?" She asked lightly.
Rhett watched as Scarlett's eyes quickly went from his face to Melanie's and back, probably realizing that if her sister-in-law left, she would indeed be alone with her husband. Did that prospect frighten or excite her? Both, he imagined.
But she smiled quickly. Sometimes Scarlett really was a tolerably gifted actress. Or perhaps it was that Southern belle charm that never really failed her, that was part of her, with all its little gestures and smiles and hypocrisies.
"Of course not, Melly. You go home and do some more preparing for tomorrow. I'll send Pork with you to fetch Beau."
Rhett raised elegantly from his chair and helped first Melanie, then Scarlett out of her chair.
He touched his wife's arm for the briefest moment and she looked slightly at him over the elegant curve of her shoulder, the warmth of her skin palpable even through the fabric of her costly gown. Was it terribly rude of him to think that Miss Melly could not leave fast enough? He chuckled inwardly at the thought.
Pork on their heels, they escorted Melanie into the parlor, where Mammy was quick to hand over their guest's glove and hat.
"Pork," Scarlett addressed the servant, "go with Mrs. Wilkes and bring Beau with you when you come back, please."
"Yes'm," Pork nodded amiably.
Melanie, having put on her hat but not yet her gloves, turned to her hosts and gave them another of her disarmingly genuine smiles. One of the recipients had always appreciated them for what they were: the expressions of a beautiful soul. But if he had interpreted his wife's actions over the past few hours correctly, Scarlett was only slowly getting the hang of how gracious and selfless a woman Melanie truly was.
And it seemed to perplex her, stun her, for nothing could be farther from her own selfish, vain temperament, although she was certainly not naturally unkind herself. But still, her one great and redeeming quality, her unwavering loyalty to those she loved, was like a drop in the ocean compared to Melanie's goodness. And she knew it. Her conduct around the other woman was definitely amusing to watch: it reminded him of a Labrador gingerly dancing around a lapdog, careful not to bare its claws.
"Thank you for the lovely lunch, Scarlett, Captain Butler." Melanie offered, oblivious to Rhett's thoughts. "Be sure to come over early tomorrow, my dear," she said, turning to Scarlett. "You know I will be needing your advice on some last-minute details and... well, just your presence at the house will help me calm down and not be so nervous."
Rhett had thought he would never live to see the day, but Scarlett actually blushed at the implicit compliment.
"I'll be there, Melly, and on time." She said after a short pause, offering the other her cheek to kiss. "Until tomorrow then."
"Goodbye, Scarlett. And thank you again."
She turned to Rhett. "Goodbye, Captain Butler. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow as well."
"Goodbye, Miss Melly. Until tomorrow." She offered him her hand and he kissed it lightly. It always felt like a benediction to be acknowledged and found worthy by this angel of a woman. He did not deserve it, but, selfish as he was, he would be damned before he did not glory in it.
"Take good care of Mrs. Wilkes, and of Beau, Pork," he said to the elderly servant, who nodded eagerly, reassured of the importance of the mission he was about to embark upon.
With a slight nod at the man, who hastened to open the front door for her, and a few kind words of farewell for Mammy, Melanie put on her gloves and left the Butler mansion. A breath of wind that had come through the door before it fell shut lingered in the hall for a moment, carrying with it the smell of spring and a wisp of selfless kindness, of soothing grace that was seldom encountered in this house.
Rhett was the first to recover and found Scarlett staring into space. He cleared his throat.
She straightened her shoulders as if to prepare herself for whatever there was to come, but her gaze only brushed him warily for a second before it settled on Mammy.
The old servant was looking at the two of them with a knowing expression that amused Rhett. If Mammy perceived that something was happening between them, then something certainly was happening, and he was not just imagining things.
Naturally though, Scarlett had no idea and was trying to figure out Mammy's expressions, of course to no avail. She was about as perceptive as the numerous pieces of tasteless furniture she had chosen for the hall, Rhett noticed unsympathetically as he let his gaze sweep over his surroundings. Only his foolish love for her could explain the fact that he had stood idly by as she turned this house into a monstrosity.
Then everything went very fast. Mammy made her excuses, muttering something under her breath, and left. Rhett and Scarlett watched as she heaved her great body up the flight of stairs, breathing hard. Then, finally, she disappeared down the corridor in search of Prissy or the children or some other charge or task that needed her attention, ever the faithful servant.
Rhett looked at Scarlett.
She hid her hands in her skirts as if fearful he might grab them, and threw him another weary look, carefully watching his face.
He raised his dark brows, his expression nonchalant, confident. The smallest smile appeared on his lips. He was excited at the prospect of arguing with her, rejoiced at the danger and uncertainty swinging in the air.
There was no sound except their slow breathing and the sound of a distant carriage driving by outside the house.
Later had come.
They were alone.
Anyone still reading this? Good gracious, I am sorry for the delay... but sometimes I just can't come up with anything useful let alone good for months and months on end. I can't explain because I'm not sure of the reasons myself... probably because sometimes I'm just not in the mood for writing even if I do find the time. And I would rather not post anything than absolute rubbish. Anyway, hope you liked it! It's not as long as most of the others but I wanted to get in the mood for writing again and set the stage for the following chapters. Let me know what you think, please. I have also revised the other chapters, that is I have removed all chapter titles – from now on there will be none – and corrected some small errors I came across. As always, be well!