Chapter VI

In Atlanta a warm sun was at work...

...But for Rhett and Scarlett, their newfound connubial bliss saw them miss the sun, and the first train to Charleston the next morning. Scarlett was mortified, but Rhett laughed away her embarrassment, until she too was laughing. They lingered over a long breakfast, laughing and feeding each other, exchanging kisses as often as they exchanged food. From there, they retired to the train station to await the next train to Charleston. Sitting inside the train station, far closer than was proper, Scarlett was giggling as Rhett nibbled delicately on her ear, though she broke away, blushing as she heard a group approaching her, calling her name.

It was the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton and Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes. Scarlett tried to mask her irritation at having their love making interrupted, but feared that it must have shone through, for the two other couples, newly arrived from Clayton County, refused to linger. As they said their goodbyes however, Melanie, the new Mrs. Wilkes, had a question to ask of the new Mrs. Butler.

"Would you be adverse to beginning a correspondence with me Mrs. Butler?" Melanie enquired shyly. "For knowing what a good friend you have been to my Ashley, I feel as close to you as I would a sister."

Scarlett could think of no way to politely decline and so gave her assent, promising to write to Mrs. Wilkes from Paris.

As the other couples departed, Ashley's eyes met Scarlett, and the two friends knew this might be the last they would see each other for years. It was with real regret, tempered with a hearty dose of true relief, that Scarlett big her friends goodbye.

"Why, they couldn't have rushed off any quicker had they had tried!" She later pouted to her husband as they were settled in their private cabin to Charleston. "I must say they were acting queerly."

Rhett laughed.

"You're glowing my dearest wife, and, having been newly married themselves, I'm sure your friends were rather able to discern the reason behind your radiance."

Scarlett blushed deeply and becomingly at the thought of Ashley and Charles imagining the liberties Rhett had taken with her body the night before.

"Though, as a nod to your vanity, I must say my dear, that you had far more of the radiance of a new bride than either of Mrs. Wilkes or Mrs. Hamilton. Though perhaps," Rhett laughed "I am merely flattering myself with such an observation."

Scarlett fell asleep shortly into the trip, for her sleep the night before had been frequently interrupted by her husband. Before she knew it, they were in Charleston.

Scarlett had been to Charleston many times before on visits to her mother's sisters, Pauline and Eulalie. On those occasions she had found Charleston to be as banal as a city could be, with its inhabitants so hung up on traditions and family and so all together critical of the land Scarlett loved. The lilting accents of the natural inhabitants had driven Scarlett to distraction and her Aunts' lack of any interesting society had made these visits something to be dreaded rather than anticipated.

They were to be in Charleston only three nights before their ship set sail for the shores of Calais, however. And, with her husband by her side, Scarlett imagined she should be able to manage a few days in the harbor city.

They were to stay at the Charleston Hotel, quite the best establishment in town, and in the bridal suite, which put the National Hotel room that Scarlett had been so enamoured with only hours previously, to shame. Scarlett danced around the wide, airy room, with arms outstretched, laughing gaily as she fell in a heap on the floor under the amused gaze of her husband. To her immense surprise, he joined her there, leaning forward to kiss her thoroughly, before stretching his long legs out before himself and leaning back on his elbows.

"Rhett, I'm so happy!" She declared, kicking her feet merrily against the carpet, unable to feel the hardness underneath her, as plush as it was.

"And I intend to keep you that way, my dear," Rhett told her. "What should you like to do with our time in the city of my youth?"

"Oh, I don't know," Scarlett shrugged, disregarding Mammy's assurances that ladies did not ever shrug. "There's no point going shopping, not when we're on our way to Paris. I imagine there are friends you want to visit with. And I suppose I best arrange a call to both my Aunt's." Her nose wrinkled in distaste at the thought.

"On that score my dear, I believe you would have better success should you ask your Aunt's to call on us," Rhett suggested, with no little delicacy.

"Oh well, I suppose I ought," Scarlett agreed absentmindedly. "I am, after all, a new bride, and it is certainly my right. Why though Rhett?"

"You forget, my unthinking bride, that there are places in the world, and Charleston is one of them, where I am not received," he smiled then, his white teeth gleaming against his tan skin, his relaxed nonchalance making him appear every inch the scoundrel rumour reputed him to be.

"Oh!" Scarlett gasped, for she had quite forgotten her husband's reputation. "Oh dear. Do you think they would come?"

"For your sake, and the sake of your dear mother, I believe they will," Rhett responded. "If only to carry a report back to your family as to how your new husband treats you."

"Well in that respect they shall have not a thing negative to report at all," Scarlett beamed. "They may write a long letter, full of every complaint available to them (and no doubt they will!) but they shall not be able to repine your treatment of me!"

"You flatter me, my dear," Rhett rose to his feet, bowing mockingly. "Come my dearest wife, to bed and I shall treat you very well indeed."

"Shall you call on your family while we are in town Rhett?" Scarlett asked, some hours later as they sat together in their rooms, eating supper. Scarlett was clad only in her nightgown and, having never eaten a meal in her night things before, except for when ill, she found the whole business quite naughty indeed.

"Certainly not!" Rhett declared. "My father would never see me, not even my new bride would tempt him to forget his grievances against me. I will endeavour to get a note to my mother, and she may find a way to visit with us and, if we were lucky, might bring my sister Rosemary with her."

"And your brother?"

"He wouldn't dare," Rhett laughed shortly. "I won't even bother him with a note."

"Oh," Scarlett responded, somewhat disappointed. She had hoped to lay eyes on the woman who had engendered Rhett's excusal from Charleston society. "Have you nieces or nephews?"

"None to speak of," Rhett replied. "My sister is not yet married, much to my mother's eternal disappointment. My brother and his harridan of a wife have not been so blessed. Whether because she has banned him from her bed or for other reasons I am unsure."

Scarlett blushed at such frank talk and blushed harder again at Rhett's laughter at her discomfort.

"Is your sister very old to be unmarried?" She asked.

"Oh yes, quite old, twenty if she's a day," Rhett laughed. "My mother despairs of her being branded an old maid!"

And so she should! Scarlett thought. Unmarried at twenty, she must be very ugly!

"Are you very close with your sister?"

"Quite, considering how young she was when I was banished from the family home," Rhett responded. "She was only eight when my father cut me off, and I've only managed to see her a handful of times over the years. Still, I remain a firm favourite with her."

Arithmetic had always been a particular skill of Scarlett's, but embarrassment clouded her mind and confused her thinking. It was embarrassing to be unaware of one's own husband's age, but Scarlett had never found a way to ask. She knew he had been twenty when he was expelled from Charleston, and if his sister had been eight at the time...

"Go ahead and ask Scarlett, I can practically see the steam pouring out your ears," Rhett laughed mockingly.

"Very well," Scarlett poked her tongue out at him. "How old are you Rhett?"

"I'm double your age dearest, thirty two years old.. Are you quite shocked to have such an elderly husband?"

"Oh no! In truth I thought you much older than that," Scarlett responded flippantly. "Though it is rather odd to think of you being of an age with my own mother. Why, had you grown up in the same city, and had you not been such a scoundrel, you might have been one of her beaux!"

Rhett laughed long and hard at this, before pulling her across the table and onto his lap, leaving their meal quite forgotten.

Scarlett was surprised when a hotel employee delivered a note to her husband later that afternoon. He answered the door in pants and shirt, his feet bare, his chest exposed, leaving a blushing Scarlett in bed. After closing the door, he unfolded the note, his eyes scanning the words that were written there before barking with laughter.

"What is it Rhett?" Scarlett asked immediately, never liking to be left out of a joke.

"I hope you've something to wear to dinner tonight my dear, for it seems we shall be dining in the hotel restaurant," with a wry smile, he handed the note to her.

Butler, (it read)

How very like you to come to town and not see fit to so much as send a note! And with a new bride none the less! Cecilia and I shall see you and your wife at the Charleston Hotel restaurant for dinner tonight at 8pm.

Bennet.

"Who is Bennet?" Scarlett asked.

"Wilhelm Bennet. A very old, very good friend of mine," Rhett was grinning, a real, genuine smile. "We went to school together as boy's, ran together as reckless young men and when I was disowned, he kept me from the poor house until I could get back on my feet. You're such a poor judge of character Scarlett, that you'll like him immensely I think. He's almost as much of a scoundrel as I am."

"Is he European?"

"Bennet?" Rhett laughed. "As Southern as you and I, my dear. The name's a hand-me-down from his great, great, great grandfather, who most certainly was not a Southerner. His wife, Cecilia, is French however. I was there the night they met. She was a can-can dancer at the Moulin Rouge and one night as we drank ourselves silly in that exalted establishment, Bennet fell in love."

Scarlett was aware her mouth was hanging open, but she couldn't seem to remember how to close it. A can-can dancer! She had never met a person such as that in her life.

"Did they marry immediately?" Scarlett eventually asked.

"God no!" Rhett laughed. "It took Bennet almost two years to convince her to leave off her feathers and run away with him. She's a very stubborn woman, reminds me of you rather."

Scarlett didn't know whether or not to be offended. She knew that any other woman of her acquaintance certainly would have been, but she rather thought Rhett had meant it as a compliment.

"Is she pretty?"

"Of course," Rhett responded, enjoying the way his young bride's feathers ruffled at his response. "Not quite as pretty as you my darling wife, but close."

"Have they any children?"

"Not one," Rhett grinned. "Come now my little pea-hen, smooth your plumage. Wear that watered green silk number this evening and nobody shall look in Cecilia's direction."

"I shall," Scarlett tossed her head, causing Rhett to laugh.

"There's a good girl," Rhett pinched her cheek affectionately. "I do love to see you in green. Perhaps when we reach Paris I'll buy you a set of emerald jewels."

"You're just trying to buy my forgiveness for saying that woman is almost as pretty as me," Scarlett pouted, though she was secretly delighted.

"My darling if I wanted to beg your forgiveness I wouldn't do it with jewels," Rhett laughed. "And if I do chose to give you jewels I expect to see you wear them, preferably with no other adornments, not even clothes."

"Rhett you are awful," Scarlett giggled. "Call the maid will you? I ought to dress."

"I think I rather prefer you the way you are now."

"Still, I don't think I should dine this way," Scarlett laughed.

"If you must dress," Rhett sighed. "We won't bother the maid."

"And how do you propose I dress myself?"

"I don't propose you dress yourself at all. Up you get my dear, let me lace you."

"You?" Scarlett exclaimed, surprised. "You know how to lace a corset?"

"I have many talents no gentleman should own," Rhett grinned at her. "Lacing a corset is not the least of them. Up you get my dear."

Being dressed by Rhett was the most erotic experience of Scarlett's young life. His lips had traced the path her stockings were to take, his hands ran lines up and down her smooth and supple skin and he laced her to the point of breathlessness. By the time the final button of her emerald green evening gown was fastened, she was panting desperately, beside herself with need for her husband.

Rhett was hardly in better shape, and the knowledge of his new bride's desire for him did nothing to alleviate his own. He had known from the day they met that there was a deeply passionate young woman waiting to be awakened, but even in his wildest dreams he couldn't have imagined just how she would respond to his ardour.

"You can't mean to leave me like this!" Scarlett exclaimed, as Rhett tugged on his cream dinner jacket.

"I assure you, my dear, I'm in a scarcely less desperate situation than you," he grinned at her roguishly. His smile faded as he took in her eyes, swimming with unshed tears of frustration. "Come my darling, it's not so bad; think how good it shall be when we return to our rooms after dinner."

"I don't want to wait!" She cried. "I feel...I feel as if... I might explode."

"My impatient little wife," Rhett's husky tones caressed the words he spoke. "I promise you darling, I shall make the wait more than worth your while later this evening."

Scarlett wanted to stamp her feet and scream in frustration. She was not used to being denied things she wanted and she had never felt the way Rhett had made her feel with his caressing hands and silky tongue. Mustering all the dignity she possessed, Scarlett held her head high and swept past her waiting husband.

"Well done Scarlett!" Rhett exclaimed, for he had been anticipating a temper tantrum from his very young wife.

"You're hateful Rhett Butler," she hissed at him. "I shouldn't want your attentions should you chose to bestow them on me."

In an instant Rhett had her by her arm and she was pressed between the door of their rooms and his hard, unyielding body.

"What did I say about lies, Scarlett?"

"Yes, but you knew I was lying, so it really doesn't count," Scarlett smiled a winning smile and bestowed a quick kiss on her husband's lips. "Now hurry or we'll be late."

"Minx," Rhett growled, taking her arm and propelling her down the stairs.

The restaurant was busy, full of people and smells and noise. Rhett seemed to know their destination, for he towed her through the melee, straight to a table in a secluded corner, where a handsome couple sat.

"Butler!" The man cried, reaching for Rhett with hands outstretched and, to Scarlett's immense surprise, embracing him heartily. "You old dog you!"

"Bill Bennet!" Rhett exclaimed, beaming with pleasure, transforming his already handsome features into something that fair stole Scarlett's breath. "You don't ever change." He reached for the pretty woman then, bowing gallantly over her hands. "Cecilia, you're more beautiful than ever!"

"And you're the same scoundrel as always," the woman laughed, a melodic sound that Scarlett was instantly jealous of.

"Come Rhett, introduce us to your stunning bride!" The man named Bennet instructed, turning to Scarlett.

"Scarlett this is Bill and Cecilia Bennet," Rhett turned to her and smiled fondly. "Bill, Cissy, my wife, Scarlett."

"A pleasure, my dear Mrs. Butler," Bennet bowed elegantly over her hands. "Though what a beauty like you is doing with an old scoundrel like Rhett I've no idea."

"Congratulations, Mrs. Butler," the lilting voice of the French woman addressed her. "I've longed for the day I'd meet the woman who could get our Rhett to settle into the balms of matrimony."

Scarlett cast a critical eye over Mrs. Cecilia Bennet. She was beautiful, just as Rhett had said, tall and statuesque, with dark hair and eyes and an elegant figure. She was older than Scarlett, more of an age with Rhett and Brent and, Scarlett was relieved to see, she wasn't quite as beautiful as Scarlett herself.

"We've ordered champagne to toast your marriage," Bennet indicated the bottles waiting on the table. "And food to begin with, come, sit Mrs. Butler, I've many stories to tell you of your rascal of a husband."

As Scarlett lifted her glass to her mouth, she errantly thought that she had consumed more champagne in the last three days than she had in the entirety of the rest of her life put together. The bubbly liquid was sweet and refreshing and as soon as she'd swallowed her first mouthful, she was going back for a second.

"Well Butler, as Cissy said, we've both longed for the day we'd meet the woman who was brave enough to lure you into marriage," Bennet began, shooting Scarlett a glance that on any other man would have seemed ill-bred. "Though I hardly thought you'd rob the cradle in order to do it! Tell me Mrs. Butler, how old are you?"

Scarlett's mouth dropped open in shock. Rhett laughed. Cecilia smacked her husband's arm, hard.

"Wilhelm Bennet!" She exclaimed, before turning her gaze to Scarlett. "Forgive him Mrs. Butler, he's been on the edges of society so long he's forgotten his manners."

"It's an honest question!" Bennet protested.

"Can't you see you're embarrassing her?"

"I'm sixteen Mr. Bennet," Scarlett responded haughtily, quite ready to leave this subject behind.

"Oho! Sixteen! Half your age Butler! You sly dog, you!" Bennet seemed overjoyed. "Rhett Butler and his child bride, how the matrons of Charleston's tongues will wag!"

"Enough, Bennet," Rhett's tone was dark and vaguely threatening. "Scarlet's age has nothing to do with our marriage. Leave off."

"You can't expect me not to enjoy this?" Bennet demanded in affront.

"That is exactly what I expect," Rhett replied, eyes sinister. "My wife is a lady, I expect for you to treat her with respect."

"My apologies Mrs. Butler," Bennet replied immediately, though his eyes showed how shocked he was by his friend's actions. "My wife is correct; I've been too long in the shadows of polite society."

Scarlett accepted his apologies readily, more than eager to let go of this embarrassing topic of conversation. Daringly, she squeezed her husband's knee under the cover of the tablecloth, both surprised and gratified that he had come to her defence in such a manor.

After the far from magnanimous start to the evening, Scarlett could have been forgiven for expecting the remainder of the evening to drag awkwardly. Thankfully, she was mistaken. Once the air had cleared Scarlett found Mr. and Mrs. Bennet to be charming people, both full of highly entertaining, and rather improper stories about her husband and the world they had once occupied together. Cecilia Bennet shared with Scarlett several of the best places to visit, shop and be seen in Paris, those places only a local would know, and Scarlett set the table to gales of laughter by demanding a pen and paper from the waiter so she could note down all the hints shared with her so they would not be forgotten.

They parted amicably; assisted by several bottles of very good quality champagne and the Bennet's went so far as to petition to visit them in Paris, once they were settled.

Overall, despite the beginning of the evening, Scarlett found that she liked the other couple very well indeed, and so she told her husband, as they retired together to their rooms very late that evening.

"I knew you would," Rhett smiled, his white teeth standing out shockingly in the darkness of the corridor. "Though Bennet's behaviour at the start of the evening was hardly excusable. He has not the talent of laughing at people in good taste and it has always been his downfall."

"The talent you have you mean?" Scarlett queried, thinking of the mocking smile he so often wore, but that so few took offense to. "I think that, knowing him, I understand you a little better Rhett."

"I should hope not Madam!" Rhett exclaimed, shutting the door of their suite very firmly behind him. "Now, I believe earlier you said something earlier about exploding?"