Thank you, lovely readers, for your wonderful words. Glad you enjoyed the last chapter. I admit the Rhett-Rose scene had me cracking up the entire time I was writing it (my husband probably thought I was finally going insane). Of course ...Scarlett finds the robe. You knew she would, right? And of course we must do something with Charlotte. Hope you enjoy!
The faint air cools in the gloaming,
And peaceful flows the Rhine,
The thirsty summits are drinking
The sunset's flooding wine.
- Heinrich Heine, The Lorelei
Belle Watling was an early riser. More often then not, morning insomnia would drive her from her bed before five-thirty, and she would sit in the east-facing parlor, watching the sunrise over the Ranch, sipping her morning coffee. She took hers black.
She was engaged in this contemplative activity, when Charles Butler walked in.
"Mornin'" he said, briefly, joining her to stand by the windows. He was already dressed for church, in an elegant three-piece suit, and a dark walking-stick with a silver hilt. He was still a very handsome man, despite the slight tendency to embonpoint; a result of his sedentary habits.
"Good mornin'" she replied. She was glad she had taken the extra time to set her hair, and put on a bit of powder, and rouge. She had also applied a touch of charcoal to her eyes, enhancing their pale blue color. After all, she had not been a professional woman for nothing. "Coffee?"
"Thanks." He poured himself a cup, with large, steady hands. Another similarity with his elder brother. She noted he took it black, as well. "Looking nice," he complimented.
She blushed. "I did, once." This morning, she had chosen a walking dress of dark brown velvet, subtly embroidered with miniature rosebuds. Much more conservative than anything she had owned while she was still… in business. Or even before.
He was staring at her, and she wondered if he was remembering the svelte nineteen year old she had been, and comparing her with what she looked like today. She rather hoped not. She hid her hands in the folds of her skirt. No blush or powder would hide the tell-tale signs of age on those.
"Fine place," he said, amiably, gesturing over to the rolling fields beyond the window. "Well kept. Excellent sport year 'round, Thad says. Will take me fishin' later this week." He had a habit of nodding to confirm his own words, that suddenly came flooding back to her. He was nodding, now. "Did well for himself, the boy."
No thanks ter you, Belle thought.
Charles had been studying her face, as if refreshing his memory. "I been thinking." He waited until she lifted her head, and continued, "If it's all right with you - and 'im orf course - I'd like to …formally adopt 'im. Give him my name."
Belle stared. At one point in her life, she would have given anything for those words. But …. "why now?"
He shook his head, as if at loss for an answer. "My wife is dead," he finally offered, inadequately. "Died seven years ago. In the earthquake of '86. I expect you heard."
She said nothing.
"I have no son but – 'im. My daughters….." he nodded again. It was beginning to irritate her. "They're far away."
"Wouldn't they be … scandalized?" She tried to imagine the reaction of Polite Society to such an announcement as he was proposing. The venerable Charles Butler, who had not made a single misstep in his staid, boring life after his one youthful indiscretion, legitimizing the son of a... Fancy Woman. It would almost be worth it, just for that.
"Sure would." He smiled, and suddenly he looked much more youthful. "Old enough to please myself. Thinking about moving 'round here, perhaps. Get to know 'im." She threw him a look that was almost a scowl. He noticed. He had always noticed these things. "If he'll have me," he added, quickly.
"What makes you think he would?" Belle said, feeling a surge of stale bile gag in her throat. "Thad don' think too highly of what you did ter us. Don't think too highly of you, for that matter." Neither do I, she added, in her mind. She herself had expected to be rejected at some point. But she had not expected him to reject their son out of hand.
"I know," Charles said, with something like remorse in his voice. "But that's what he was hopin' for, I think. Before." At her questioning glance, he clarified, "Came to Charleston. Wanted to marry the little one. Now that that's on again…..."
"But it's not on again," Belle exclaimed. "He will marry that … cold-blooded …..little ...icicle….. over my dead body!"
Charles looked at her with some astonishment. "Rosey? A bit reserved, to be sure! But perfectly amiable. Pretty as a picture, too. Will make 'im an excellent wife."
She shook her head obstinately. Just like a man, to be blinded by a woman's face. "Thad will marry someone else."
"You know best," Charles replied, obviously unwilling to argue. "Want to ...make the offer. Something I can do for 'im!" He tapped his walking-stick on the floor. "Tried to pay m'brother back for the money he spent educating 'im," he added, as an afterthought. "Wouldn't take it."
"Why not?"
"Said he was his son, too."
She felt strangely warmed by the words. Rhett had been her longest love. And her deepest grief. Aside from Thad.
"Ask 'im," she said, finally. "Thad, I mean. All 'e kin do is say no." In reality, she had no idea how her son would react. Her heart contracted again. I don' even know my own boy.
And Rose would alienate him even further, she thought, glumly. I bet she wouldn't even let me stay with them. She tried to imagine a life away from her son. Farmed out somewhere. Not too close. Well taken care of ….he would see to that…..but once again, demoted to the ranks of a casual visitor in his life. Away from the grandchildren she had set her heart on. Away from everything in life that mattered.
"You all right?" Charles asked, with some concern, jolting her out of her musings.
"Yes." She surreptitiously wiped at her eyes. Built too close to the water these days, she told herself.
There was a commotion in the courtyard, and she saw three men, including her son, mount their horses. Another man jumped on the driver's seat of a buggy. They heard the voices, but couldn't make out the words.
"They're moving a Native girl to Houston," Belle explained, when she felt Charles' eyes on her.
"Are they, now." It was that lack of curiosity that she also remembered. It had been flattering, when the one thing he'd been interested in was her.
Together, they watched him direct the men, and the carriage, until they had all ridden off in a cloud of dust. Both were lost in thought.
After breakfast, the carriages drove up to the house, one by one. Belle watched Thad help Rose into her light overcoat. As if by accident, his fingers brushed lightly over the nape of her neck.
The wagons halted in front of the church. The town, dressed in what passed for their Sunday's best, was eying them all with interest, as they walked slowly up the aisle. Strangely enough, the Watlings were the closest thing the small place had to aristocracy.
Thad sang his usual solo, together with a small, straggly, strawberry-blonde girl, whose sweet, lilting soprano wove in and out of his dark bass.
All glory, laud and honor,
To Thee, Redeemer, King,
To Whom the lips of children
Made sweet hosannas ring.
Thou art the King of Israel,
Thou David's royal Son,
Who in the Lord's Name comest,
The King and Blessèd One.
And then, more softly, the last verse.
To Thee, before Thy passion,
They sang their hymns of praise;
To Thee, now high exalted,
Our melody we raise.
Belle was grateful that the darkness hid her tears. But she had a plan. And then, it would all be well.
~~oo~~
Rhett was dressing for the picnic, when his wife came in, her face a most alluring shade of red. In her hand, she held a black square, which she unfolded, but only after closing the door firmly behind her.
Hidden within, was perhaps the flimsiest nightgown ever to be designed at the Rue de la Paix.
"You'll never guess what happened!" Scarlett reported, blushing even more furiously. "I was looking for my silver comb – you know the one I mean? That I bought to go with my grey dress? I thought Minnie might have accidentally moved it into Rose's trunk when we were packing, so I went to her room, to look. Well, I didn't find my comb, but I found….this!" She giggled involuntarily. He raised his brows in what he hoped looked like confusion. "It's your robe, darling – I didn't know you had a black one! – and …and the nightgown that you bought me from Paris. The one that was shipped just before we left. I wanted to bring it, in case …." She blushed. "Well! Minnie must have put it into Rose's trunk, thinking it was mine. Oh dear!" She shuddered. "Whatever would Rose have thought, had she found it!"
She held out her hand; the silky, almost transparent, material dangling from her hand. Rhett stared at it, with an expression not unlike that of a prairie dog eying a rattlesnake.
"Uurrrrrks," he said, with a shudder.
Even on someone as small as Rose, the hem was unlikely to hit even mid-thigh. As for the décolleté …
"Darling, are you all right?" Scarlett asked, worriedly. "You look …..faint!" She then patted his arm encouragingly, thinking how adorable it was that her wordly husband felt even more protective of their daughter's innocence than she did. "I'm fairly certain she didn't see it – it was folded together so small, and covered so well, that I almost didn't notice it myself. Well! I will have to be …more careful in the future!"
With these cheerful words, she proceeded to conceal the nightgown in her own trunk.
~~oo~~
Not too much later, the carriages arrived once more, this time to drive the entire group to the lakeside. Afternoon sunlight bounced over the water. Everyone exclaimed about the beauty of the scenery. The boys chased sandpipers, and gathered bright rocks in small piles. The women spread blankets on the sand, digging up roots to ensure a large, smooth surface. Baskets were opened, and an endless surply of sandwiches, cheeses, cold meats and cut fruits emerged, along with bottles of light, fruity Rosés, ephemeral Whites, and juices for the children.
Charlotte had wandered away from the others. She broke through some thick, thorny underbrush, and skipped along the soggy edge of a small stream, intending to trace it to its source. She could hear a spring or a pool tinkling in the distance. She had always had the mind of an explorer. She kept her eyes on her feet, mindful of the lecture Thad had given them all on scorpions, and rattlesnakes. She walked for another fifteen minutes, until the trees suddenly widened.
By a large, natural pool, on the highest stone of a group of small rocks, sat, like the Lorelei, a blonde woman of about thirty years of age. She was clearly at the advanced stages of pregnancy. A loose blue mantle, imperfectly hiding her form, was her one nod to modesty.
"Hey there," the other woman called, when she caught sight of Charlotte. "Who're you?" Her heavy Texan accent was not unpleasing to the ear.
Charlotte was blushing, unsure of what to do. Where she came from, a woman in that …..state… would be …inside. She remembered her breeding. "Charlotte Thornton, m'am."
The woman's expression changed. "Thornton. I see," she said, with her throaty voice. "You're one of them."
"One of whom?" She had no idea who this woman was, or what she had done to vex her.
"The…. crowd that descended on Thad," the other woman clarified. "The poor man has been complaining about it for weeks!"
"Oh," said Charlotte, rather taken aback. "But he seemed ….pleased to have us! His mother, too."
"Of course they would pretend," the other woman chided, gently.
"Urrrks," made Charlotte, lapsing into silence at such unprecedented lack of breeding. "Perhaps you'd like to be alone?" she finally asked, hopefully.
"Not at all," the woman said, patting the rock beside her. "Sit. And tell me awl about yourself."
Charlotte, who was still bewildered, did not move. "If it's all right with you, I'd rather stand."
The blue eyes narrowed. "You must be the ….unmarried cousin," she said, with superficial brightness.
Charlotte stared at her. It was unfortunate that years of verbal abuse had conditioned her to freeze in the face of insults.
"And you are …..who?" She remembered suddenly that the woman had not yet introduced herself.
"Gina Schafer. Thad Watling's …..fiancée."
That was news to Charlotte. "You and Thad …..are to be married?"
"Yes," Gina said, gently, preening on her rock. "As soon as our baby is born. We didn't have time to plan a wedding with ….y'all….comin'. And expectin' to be entertained."
"Really," said Charlotte. She was beginning to think Thad had been right to warn them about rattlesnakes. Something inside of her snapped. She brazenly swept her eyes over the other woman's exposed figure. "Seems to me you had roughly….nine months to plan. It doesn't add up, at all! Does Cousin Thad know he's getting married?"
She couldn't believe she had just said that.
She watched the blue eyes narrow further. "Are you calling me a liar?" Gina murmured, with barely concealed wrath.
"Maybe," Charlotte said, heedlessly. "He told us nothing about you. Perhaps," she said, inspiration striking, "you want to marry him, but he doesn't want to marry you."
"Oh!" the other woman said, and, in a sudden swift moment, slid down from her perch, and reached into the water to splash Charlotte's face. She was so heavy, and moved so slowly, that Charlotte could have stepped aside easily, had she not been so shocked. As it was, the entire front of her dress was drenched in the process.
Charlotte felt her blood go hot, and her brain slow down. With much more agility than her opponent, she bent at the knees, and scooped up a large handful of the soft, squishy mud that lay at her feet. Raising her arms, she dumped it unceremoniously over the blonde head. Mud won't hurt the baby, she thought, grimly.
Gina shrieked. Charlotte bent again, to rinse the mud off her hands.
"Good-bye," Charlotte said, feeling irrepressible giggles rise in her throat at the ridiculous sight before her. Gina wore a crown of mud, that was dripping over her face and neck, and trickling down her décolleté. Not at all like the Lorelei anymore, Charlotte thought.
She ran back all the way to the Lakeside, giggling until she rejoined the others.
~~oo~~
"Charlotte," Ella said, her soft, sad face full of concern. "Why is your dress wet, love? You'll catch cold!"
Ella. Always worried about drafts. "I'm fine," Charlotte said briefly, scanning the crowd. There was Thad, talking to Scarlett. Rose stood further away by the waterside, by her father and Uncle.
Charlotte approached the first group with her quick, light step. "May I ….talk to you?" she asked Thad, blushing furiously, before she could stop herself, and before she had even finished walking. Oh no, she thought. Too late. Now he – and Scarlett – and Rose! would get the wrong idea. Again.
Thad merely nodded. "Of course. Please excuse us," he told his aunt. She could see Scarlett's eyebrows lift as she watched them.
"What is it?" If he was surprised by her unexpected query, he did not show it.
Charlotte did not dare to look at him. She cracked her knuckles, as she was wont to do when nervous.
He laughed. "I don't bite."
"Are you sure?" Charlotte asked, candidly. He still flustered her. "You see …..errrr…."
"Out with it," he said, his low voice suddenly gentle. "Whatever it is that's bothering you, it can't be as bad as all that."
"That's the thing," she said, frankly. "I don't know how bad it is. It's none of my business, you see. And I've …..misinterpreted ...something else not long ago, and made …..assumptions ….and….well…. like I said, it's all none of my business! But…..Rose …."
"Ah," he said, comprehension suddenly dawning in his eyes. "You've run into Gina."
She looked surprised, but relieved. She nodded. "At the pool. Back over..." she made a far-flung pointing gesture..."there. She said you and she were….. getting married. And …."
"And that she's expecting my child."
"Yes."
He laughed. "Trust Gina to stalk us. And to blurt out all of her ...dearest hopes, to the first one of you that she meets." He shook his head. "Did she get your dress wet?"
She nodded, looking embarrassed. "I sort of...got mud all over her, for that."
He threw his head back, and roared with laughter, drawing several surprised glances from the others. "Gina has had that coming for years. As for the child - she's also been trying to convince me it is mine, for the last nine months."
"Then it …..isn't yours?"
"No." At her curious expression, he grinned. "And no, I have no intention of expanding on this topic."
"Of course not! That would be quite improper," she exclaimed, torn between mortification and wrath. "But nobody ever explains anything to us girls," she complained, mournfully. "As if we were ...stupid. And we're not!"
His lips quivered irrepressibly. "I'm sure you aren't."
"Not that it matters for me," she added, glumly. "No one has ever been interested in me, in that way." She wondered why she was telling this to him, of all people. Her hand crept to her nose.
There was something in his eyes, like remorse. "Charlotte. No man cares that your …nose doesn't fit the current mode. Men don't think like that."
She touched the offending appendage gingerly. "Then why has nobody ever proposed to me?"
"Because you believe that you're unattractive." He pushed his hair back from his eyes. "A very few women have perfectly symmetrical faces - and figures …..but for most, beauty is art – and attitude." He smiled encouragingly. "Nor are face - or figure- the only kinds of beauty."
"Right," she muttered, not at all convinced. "Rose …..Rose is one of the most beautiful girls in the South."
"I don't care what Rose looks like," he said. "I never have. And yes, she has a lovely face, and a striking figure. But have you watched Rose move? She used to bump into everything when she was a child." He grinned reminiscently, and added, "watch Aunt Scarlett sometimes, and you'll see what that sort of self-possession can do for you. Compared to her, Rose still stalks about like a day-old foal."
Charlotte laughed at this clear-sighted assessment of his beloved. "Aunt Scarlett told us she had to ban small side-tables from the house in Galveston, when Rose was small. Because they all got knocked over."
"Yes." He looked out again, over the expanse of the water. "There are many different kinds of beauty, Charlotte. Motion, form …intelligence. Character. And a kind of grace that wants others to be ….comfortable, yet still see the world with a clear eye. That's yours. It may take a connoisseur to appreciate it, but he'll find you. And when he does, you may see you are happier with him, than with those who only value the symmetry of face and figure. Which are ...amongst other things ...fleeting."
She smiled. "Yours is that you see people," she said. "And your voice," she added, cheekily. Suddenly, he no longer flustered her. "Where did you….learn all that?"
Again, that strange look. But he said nothing.
"Will you be able to work things out, with Rose?" she finally asked, accepting his silence.
"I don't know," he admitted, with a wry smile. "There's a lot of ….ballast." His eyes went to that damsel, who was standing by the water, the afternoon light in her dark curls.
"Good luck," Charlotte offered.
"Thank you." Rose was watching them from a distance, and although her expression was blank, there was something stiff about her pose. He sighed, and murmured, almost to himself, "We'll need it."
Ok. You get to choose which characters (aside from R&S and Thad&Rose) that you want to hear about next. The little boys? Ella&Chase? More Charlotte? Wade and Phoebe? A flashback to the *bad old days* with Rose/Rhett? Thad's childhood? Something else? Let me know!