Chapter X
Married women never had any fun...
... Or such was the prevailing sentiment that Scarlett had grown up amongst. Matrons discussed matters of genealogy and obstetrics, relegated to arbours and front parlours, never to dance or laugh or flirt or frolic. They were always decorous, never amused and rarely anything except restrained and respectable. Scarlett had never given much thought to life beyond the alter, though if she had, she may have chosen to remain always unmarried, such was the opinion she had on the positions of matrons in Southern society.
Marriage to Rhett however, was different from any expectation Scarlett had ever had. She had more fun now than she ever had as a Belle in the South. There were parties every night, lunchtime soirées every day, the people were uniquely interesting and full of stories, life and laughter and every night she went to bed with her affectionate and passionate husband. Scarlett had hardly imagined such a life existed, where each day bought new experiences, new clothes, new foods and a new side of her husband.
"Never pass up new experiences, Scarlett," Rhett had advised her as she marvelled at the adventures she had had since they had arrived in Paris. "They enrich the mind."
The newlywed Butler's were quickly surrounded by a lively social group mostly compromised of Rhett's many business associates and their wives. Scarlett quickly discovered that matrons were capable of discussing more than babies, sickness and the elderly; that matrons could in fact, have the most scandalous discussions Scarlett could imagine, particularly when separated from their men folk, as was customary after supper. The things she learnt in those half hours during which the sexes were separated! Salacious gossip and scandalous talk! Things that made Scarlett blush to even think about. Occasionally she wondered if her mother and the other married women of the County talked the way the women of Paris did, but immediately dismissed such a notion, her mother would expire simply at the idea of such things! Ways to prevent babies, prolong intimacies with husbands and different ways to make love, some that Scarlett frankly thought must be impossible. Rhett had laughed long and loud when she confessed as much to him, and was at pains to demonstrate that such things certainly were possible, and not only possible, but entirely enjoyable also.
And so the weeks, then the months passed. Winter came early to Paris and Scarlett, who had never experienced heavy snow or true cold having grown up in Georgia, complained loudly about the weather at every opportunity. Her desire to go out, particularly at night, diminished greatly and as a result, she and Rhett spent many nights comfortably ensconced in their rooms' beside the fire.
It was during this time more than any that taught Scarlett the man her husband truly was. How much he hid, how much he revealed, his thoughts, his dreams, she hoped his true self, was all revealed to her on those cozy nights in. She revealed just as much, though she quickly learnt that if Rhett was a babbling brook, filled with hidden nooks and crannies, an unexpected snarl here and a surprising deep spot there, she was a puddle, opaque and without hidden depths.
Her husband constantly surprised her, with his knowledge, his biting wit and with the way he treated her. He was deeply affectionate, treating her with all the delicacy one would handle a newborn bird with in one moment, before changing in the space of a second, to a roughly teasing joker, telling stories far from appropriate for the ears of a gently bred lady. Scarlett could rarely predict with any real success which Rhett she would meet with, which made life exciting, particularly when, no matter which version of himself Rhett presented, he rarely failed to make Scarlett laugh.
He would incite her temper regularly. Too regularly truly, for he knew just the manner in which to tease, sure to get her back up and her Irish showing. And he adored soothing her ruffled feathers, with kisses and caresses, taunts and endearments. Yes, life with Rhett was fun; more fun than Scarlett had dreamed it could be, just as he had promised.
Scarlett had taken to sleeping late into the morning, a direct result of such busy days and late nights. She enjoyed nothing more than waking with the feeling of being completely rested and ready to face another day of fun and frivolity. Rhett did not keep the same hours as she did, but would dispose of his business in the time between his waking and hers, so that his time may be completely dedicated to their mutual pleasure.
One morning, much to her surprise, Scarlett found herself awakening many hours earlier than her norm. They had spent the last several nights at home, Scarlett unwilling to face the cold of Paris. Nights in were early nights, which went some way to explaining how early she had awoken.
Scarlett lay abed for several minutes, luxuriating in the amazingly soft sheets and the soft light streaming through the small part in the heavy curtains. She was naked beneath the sheets, Rhett having thoroughly loved her long into the night and as she stretched she felt the dull ache that she had come to associate with a night of lovemaking. A small smile graced her flushed face at the memory and for a moment, she considered calling for her husband, before dismissing the notion and rising, donning her wrapper and slippers for warmth and slipping through their rooms in search of Rhett.
She found him in the small study where he had taken to conducting his business, a light breakfast repast stretched on the small table in front of him, as he sat drinking a cup of coffee and balancing the newspaper on one knee. The newspaper was set aside, alongside the coffee cup and he grinned broadly upon seeing her in front of him.
"Good morning my darling," he opened his arms for her, swinging her down to perch on his knee. Without a trace of subtlety, Scarlett buried her head against his neck, breathing in the subtle combination of horseflesh and cigars she had long since come to associate with Rhett. At that time, it was intermingling with the heady scent of coffee, later that night; it would be tinged with brandy. At one time she had associated these smells with her father, but now they were for her husband alone. Scarlett sat back then, knowing she had been taking in his scent for too long now, not having any idea that as she had buried her nose in his neck, he had been doing the same in her hair.
"You're up and about early this morning," Rhett tucked her hair behind her ear and sat her more securely on his lap. "I wasn't aware you knew this time of the morning existed."
"We haven't gone out the last several nights. I've no need to sleep late if I've not been out till all hours."
"Personally, I find staying in a much more enjoyable way to pass an evening," Rhett grinned roguishly at her, laughing as she blushed deeply at the reference to their activities of the night before.
"I don't want to interrupt your morning routine," Scarlett told him; curious to see what her husband usually did while she slept. "I'm quite happy to sit here while you read the paper."
"Would you like a section of the paper?" Rhett asked mockingly. "I'm done with the front headlines, perhaps you'd be interested in it?"
"Yes thank you," Scarlett replied, immediately affronted by Rhett's assumption that she should have no interest in keeping up to date with current affairs. Of course she didn't care at all, had never picked up a newspaper in her life and didn't care to begin now, but she was indignant in the face of her husbands mocking and willing to peruse a paper if it meant showing him up.
Smirking, Rhett obligingly handed over the front several sheets of the paper.
"It's almost a fortnight old unfortunately, it takes some time for our news to trickle over to France."
"I'm sure I won't mind," Scarlett responded primly, handing Rhett the cup of coffee she had fixed him and turned to make one for herself. Under her husband's amused gaze, she made herself comfortable in his lap and folded the newspaper for her comfort. For several minutes she pretended to pursue the tiny black inked words printed upon the page, moving her eyes convincingly back and forth, taking nothing in.
"And what is your opinion on the secession of Kentucky, my dear?" Rhett asked some minutes later.
"I'd rather finish the article before forming an opinion," Scarlett told him, cursing herself as she realized that she would now have to read the article for herself, lest she look like a fool several minutes for now.
"Of course, my apologies," Rhett inclined his head sardonically, causing Scarlett's blood pressure to increase. With renewed enthusiasm, she set about reading the article.
Several minutes later she was finished and more confused than she had been before she had begun.
"A problem, Scarlett?"
"I'm...confused," she didn't like to admit as such, but she also wanted answers and knew that Rhett would be able to provide them. Oh, but there was a reason she'd never read a newspaper before!
"About?"
"Kentucky. How can it be both a Yankee and Confederate state?"
"Ah," Rhett plucked the newspaper from her hands and smoothed her creased brow with a single finger. "I can see how, not knowing the back story, such a thing might be confusing. You see..."
Scarlett listened with rapt attention as Rhett explained the discord within the state of Kentucky and by the end of his commentary, not only understood the situation (or so she thought) but also had a decided opinion on the matter.
"That's awful!" She exclaimed, hand pressed to her breast. "I can't imagine my neighbours being supporters of the Yankees! Or even members of my own family fighting on different sides of the war. Rhett, someone ought to do something!"
"People are doing something Scarlett, its issues such as these that are the reason we're at war at all."
"I thought we'd have licked the Yankees by now," Scarlett's brow puckered again. "Everybody at home said we would have. Except you."
"Doubting the word of your husband, fie Mrs. Butler!" Rhett teased gently. "I never anticipated the war ending as quickly as your father, or any of the other men of Clayton County did. No, this war will drag on for years and the end won't be what they're hoping for either."
"Rhett you're not suggesting we'll get beaten are you?"
"I'm not suggesting it my pet, I'm outright saying it. The Confederacy is going to get licked eventually, whether tomorrow or ten years from now, the result will be the same."
The very idea was impossible, disloyal, it went against everything she had been taught to believe in, but still... she remembered the points Rhett had made on the day they had met, the day of the barbecue at Twelve Oaks. What he had said then made sense, and it still made sense now.
"Rhett, it's so sad!" She exclaimed, jumping to her feet to pace in front of him, quite unable to take the news that the world she had grown up in was sure to crumble down around her feet sitting down. "What's to be done?"
"Nothing my dear, except to make a pretty buck from it."
"A buck? Rhett what are you talking about?"
"Blockade running my dear, I'm going in to the blockade running business," seeing she had no idea what he was talking about he continued. "What you won't realize Scarlett, being so far from home, is that the South is starving for imported goods. The Yankees have choked the harbors and nothing is getting through, officially at any rate. As a blockade runner, I'd buy goods from England, or Paris or even New York and then run them, sub rosa of course, into Charleston or Wilmington, where I'd sell them off, at a handsome profit of course."
"Rhett that sounds awfully dangerous," Scarlett's eyes were wide with wonder at the thought of such thrilling activities.
"Not so very dangerous, my pet. You'd be surprised at how far a little gold goes to bribing even the most loyal of officials. I've been doing my research while we've been here, and buying goods ready for shipment. As soon as I get my clearance from the Confederacy, I'm to begin."
"Will it be worth it Rhett?" Scarlett asked, still unconvinced that such a venture was without risk.
"I'm sure I'll clear a million, should the war last as long as I anticipate."
A million! Scarlett felt faint at the thought of such a sum.
Rhett laughed at her silence.
"I should have led with that my dear, for I knew that the idea of such riches would appeal to you! Besides, once the blockade becomes too dangerous, I shall sell out and collect another fortune from some foolish Englishman who thinks he can slip through. I've other ventures current also."
"Like what?"
"Cotton," Rhett grinned. "Right after Fort Sumter fell and before the blockade was established, I bought up several thousand bales of cotton at dirt-cheap prices and ran them to England, where they remain, warehoused in Liverpool. I've never sold them. I'm holding them until the English mills are desperate enough for cotton that they'll give me any price I ask. I wouldn't be surprised if I got a dollar a pound."
"A dollar a pound!" Scarlett exclaimed. "You'll get a dollar a pound when elephants roost in trees!"
"I believe I'll get it," Rhett squeezed her about the waist. "We're going to be very rich people when this war is over Scarlett. There's money in empire wrecking and that's what this is, the destruction of the empire of the South. It's inevitable and I intend to take full advantage of the situation created by the collapse. We'll make our fortune out of the wreckage."
"That feels... awfully mercenary Rhett."
"Mercenary my dear, or far sighted? Any loyal Confederate who had a thousand dollars cash this year could have done what I did, but how few were farsighted enough to take advantage of their opportunities?"
Scarlett paused, considering this. If Tara, or any of the other plantations she had grown up around, couldn't sell their cotton, how would they survive? And... should the worst happen, should the South lose, what would that mean for her family and friends?
"What fools!" Scarlett exclaimed. "Why, they're so near-sighted that they can't see what's right in front of them! So loyally blind to the Confederacy that they won't make any other plans. Whatever will happen to them?"
"Who knows?" Rhett shrugged uncaringly. "At the worst, they'll lose their precious plantations and their homes and businesses and they'll end up as paupers. Desperately poor, but always genteel, too damn nice to do anything except starve."
Scarlett's eyes were wide at that, her mouth hanging open and Rhett immediately realized he'd gone too far. Caught up in the discussion, he'd allowed the bitterness he'd long felt to show and he'd scared her. The South had chewed him up and spit him out years ago, but to Scarlett, these were still her people, her kin and as much as she was now realizing their faults, she wasn't ready to hear of their destruction.
"Forgive me," Rhett murmured, nuzzling her neck soothingly. "I will, of course, do everything I can to ensure your family are exempt from such sufferings."
Scarlett only nodded in reply, her mind absorbed with images of Tara burnt to the ground, her family as paupers. Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back ferociously. She couldn't think about it now, she'd think about it another day.
"I'm bored of such talk," she declared in steely tones. "What should we do today?"
Rhett was not fooled by her declaration, though he was undeniably proud of her gumption.
"Well my dear, I had thought to go shopping."
"Shopping?" Scarlett laughed. "Rhett my dressing room shall burst if you buy me any more clothes!"
"Not for you my greedy wife, for me," Rhett pinched her side teasingly. "I've spent all my time at the seamstresses of Paris and none at the tailors."
"Oh," Scarlett sighed. She had been hoping that they might spend the day together. "Well I suppose I might as well return Silvie Bart's call while you're out."
"I was thinking you might like to accompany me."
"To a tailors? Could I?" Scarlett had never heard such a thing.
"I don't see why not. I've accompanied you to the seamstress," Rhett's fingers gently trailed the line of her spine. "Besides, without your advice I might come out with an orange waistcoat and a yellow evening jacket."
"Rhett, do be serious," Scarlett laughed. "You have wonderful taste in clothing, as you well know. It's almost strange; I've never met a man who had such discerning standards of apparel."
"I shall pretend you meant that as a compliment dear one, and take it as such," Rhett laughed again. "Come Scarlett, go and dress. If you're a good girl I'll take you to lunch afterwards."
The tailor was unlike anything Scarlett had ever experienced before. Installed on a low settee and provided with a charming tea service from the tailor's assistant, Rhett promenaded item after item before her, buying recklessly at her discretion. Some hours later, they were ensconced in their favourite bistro, enjoying a hearty lunch in front of a roaring fireplace.
"I do believe you blushed the entire time we were there," Rhett laughed, as Scarlett described her embarrassment at being the only woman in the decidedly masculine shop.
"Did you see the looks the gentlemen who came in gave me?" Scarlett cried. "They were all perfectly charming of course, but..."
"Enamoured with you my dear, I'd swear by it," Rhett lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss there. "And madly jealous, for their own wives couldn't care enough about them to accompany them to the tailors."
"Rhett you think everybody is jealous of us."
"And so they should be!" He cried.
Scarlett laughed at his silliness. Rhett certainly knew how to play and always swept her along with him. But he never played like a boy; he was a man and no matter what he did, she could never forget it. She could not look down on him from the heights of womanly superiority, smiling as women have always smiled at the antics of men who are boys at heart. Sometimes, this annoyed her a little. It would be pleasant to occasionally, just occasionally, feel superior to Rhett. All the other men she could dismiss as children; her father, the Tarleton twins with their love of teasing and their elaborate practical jokes, the hairy little Fontaines with their childish rages. But Rhett eluded her understanding and her control, for he was an adult, and there was no element of boyishness about him.
He made her feel like an adult in a way nobody else in her life ever had. Consulting her, treating her with respect and schooling her understanding. Occasionally, she would think back to the conversation she had overheard him having with his mother in Charleston, before they had left for Paris, and wondered if this was his way of guiding her into a woman he would be proud to call his wife. If so, it seemed like a rather wonderful way for him to go about it.
"Rhett," she asked later, as their meals were cleared and coffee was presented. "What shall I do while you're erh... running the blockades?"
"An excellent question my pet," Rhett's dark eyes assessed her over the rim of his coffee cup. "One that I have no real answer for. You have several options. You may stay in Paris and I shall make my way here whenever possible to visit with you. You may go home to Tara, or even to Atlanta or Charleston and I shall see you when I am in port. Or, my information tells me that the best place to base ones self out of is Nassau. I intend to instil myself there, as the base of my operations. Should you wish to, you may come with me there."
"Oh yes please," Scarlett said immediately.
"Give the matter some thought, my dear," Rhett advised. "Nassau is no Paris, not even Atlanta. It's a rough place that I wouldn't recommend to most gently bred ladies. You being the exception, of course. Folks there aren't the gently bred people you're used to, Scarlett. You'll be quite safe, I will see to it, but your sensibilities might be offended by the kind of people you're likely to encounter there."
"Sensibilities, fiddle dee dee!" Scarlett scoffed. "I should rather be with you Rhett."
His eyes softened, in a way that Scarlett had come to expect when she made such statements. The liquid warmth never failed to make her giddy. Had she been capable of more introspection, she might have realized what that softening of those often steely orbs meant, but, Scarlett being Scarlett, merely brushed it off as her having said something that her husband found pleasing.
In truth, Rhett found such statements far more than pleasing. He had come to live for them, anticipate them never and delight whenever one was unthinkingly offered. He remembered each one, word for word and, late at night, when his wife was dozing peacefully in his arms, would pull each from his memory for closer examination. Rhett had long since come to terms with the fact that he loved his wife, loved her passionately, in a way that was almost embarrassing for a man who had remained aloof of the world for as long as he had. He had married Scarlett in the same way he did everything else in his life, recklessly. He had met her, found her an amusing commodity and made her his. Love, he had never anticipated, love he had never desired, but love her he did and, on those occasions when she offered such unthinkingly pretty declarations, he could rather believe that she was on her way to falling in love with him too.
"Very well my dear," Rhett lent across the table to press a tender kiss to the inside of her wrist. "To Nassau we are to go."
AN: This story will be complete at 24 chapters before the end of the year. Thank you for your continued patience.
SR x