Hello everyone!:)
Thank you so much for all your reviews, some of you write on every chapter, it's very nice, I read everything with great gratitude!:)
The new chapter is ready, it's a little shorter than usual.
Thanks again for your interest in my story!
Enjoy reading:)
I own nothing in regard to GWTW.
Chapter 9.
All the way to Charleston they rode in silence. Rhett was thoughtful; it seemed that now that his bitter marriage with Scarlett was at the end, he should feel a sense of joy and relief. But he felt neither, only a sense of emptiness.
At the end of the ride, he suddenly asked Peter, "Peter, you took them to the station, didn't you?"
Peter looked him in the eyes and replied with annoyance, "You didn't have to ask, Rhett. Of course I was at the station with them. And sent a telegram to her house to Atlanta and her servant had to meet them early in the morning."
Rhett sighed, looked at Peter gratefully, and asked another question, "How are the children? How were they behaving?"
"They were quiet, Rhett. Wade seemed to be guessing something..."
"And her?" asked Rhett even more quietly.
Peter smiled bitterly, remembering their goodbye at the train station, "As always, Rhett. Seems like of the two of us, she was the one who was comforting and trying to smile. Rhett, she won't crumble of this..."
"All the better for her, Peter," he interrupted his cousin and they fell silent.
Rosemary was the only one in the house who had met them, sitting in the parlour, trying to paint, but the colors weren't coming out the way she wanted them to, and she was wrinkling her nose in disappointment.
When she saw her cousin and brother on the doorstep, she smiled at them and stood up to greet Rhett. Kissing him affectionately on the cheek, she noted that he was thoughtful, though he responded politely to her greeting.
"Where's Auntie, Rosemary?" asked Peter worriedly.
"At her room, resting, she asked not to be disturbed until the dinner," Rosemary said, looking Peter in the eyes, and turning to Rhett, continued," she is very upset, Rhett..."
"Rosemary, I get it," Rhett interrupted her. "I'll talk to mother when she has time. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go up to my room and get cleaned up. With those words he walked quickly out of the parlour.
When he went to his room, the first thing he remembered was the last night he had seen her in his bed. She'd gone to bed early, lying to everyone about a headache, and he'd had time to sit up with the children in the evening and read to them. After waiting until they were asleep, he went in to his room. She was asleep and her breathing was barely audible in the silence of the night, there seemed to be traces of tears on her cheeks.He remembered how he went to her, sat down next to her on the floor beside the bed, how he looked at her and stroked her hair, how he whispered to her, "I'm sorry...It will be better for us...". How she woke up for a few seconds and looked up at him with her sleepy green eyes. How he quickly got up and left for his room, terrified of what awaited him in the morning. How she wasn't in bed in the morning. How she remembered nothing.
He opened the closet to get a fresh shirt and his eyes stumbled upon a woman's shawl. The black piece of clothing stood out so much from all his white shirts. It was her shawl. Instinctively, he reached for it, took it in his hands, closed his eyes and brought it up to his face. The faint scent of her perfume was barely perceptible.
He quickly hung the shawl back in place and ran his hand through his hair. He was getting too sentimental, he just needed to get away. Rhett figured he'd have time to go to the harbor for tickets before dinner, or to the train station if there was a ship to London from Savannah.
Returning to the mansion that evening, he was glad that he had managed to get a train ticket for tomorrow morning to Savannah, and then there was a ship waiting for him to London.
He was happy that he wouldn't have to linger in the south, and also that it looked like he would be spending Christmas far away from here and from memories.
Opening the door to his room he heard a voice behind him, "Well hello son!"
He turned around and saw his mother, with a straight back and a determined look. In a dress of rich blue, with gray hair gathered in a neat bundle and such familiar blue eyes, she looked like a true lady.
"Mother," he exclaimed quietly, walking over to her and kissing her cheek.
"Can we talk, Rhett?" Miss Eleanor got straight to the point; she did not smile, but looked at him seriously and resolutely.
He gestured to the door of his room and went forward to open it.
They entered and the room was silent.
"Okay, Mother" Rhett couldn't take it anymore, "I feel like a five year old naughty boy, just say what you think already!"
"It's good to see that you realize you've done something bad," replied Mrs. Butler sternly.
"I would argue with the word 'bad,'" began Rhett, smiling bitterly, but Mrs. Butler interrupted him sharply.
"Rhett, be serious for once in your life! You've ruined your family, you've lost your wife and children, you've ruined our family's reputation. Is this the kind of conversation you expect, son?" she said angrily and looked him in the eyes.
Rhett looked away, taking a deep breath. He walked over to the mirror and the table beside it and opened the cigar box. The glint of a pearl caught his eye, and he pulled back the wooden box and saw the familiar string of pearls.
He remembered buying it for her himself in New Orleans. Pensively, he took the jewelry and looked at his mother.
Mrs. Butler looked at him carefully, at the jewelry, and said sadly, "She must have forgotten it in her haste to get ready. I gave her your grandmother's necklace because I always wanted to give it to my eldest son's wife. She didn't want to accept it, she had already knew everything then..."
"Would you like the necklace back, mother?"
"Sometimes, you say such silly things, Rhett. I'd like my daughter-in-law and my grandchildren back."
Mother and son looked at each other, and Rhett realized he should at least try to explain his motives to her.
"You see, mother," he began, "our marriage to Scarlett was complicated from the beginning. She loved another man, or thought she did. I knew it from the first day I met her, she was only sixteen. Let's just say I overheard an interesting conversation in time. No matter. She didn't love me for most of our marriage, and I hid my feelings. Mother, we didn't live well, we fought a lot, said terrible things to each other. I was no saint, either. I was hurt. I couldn't take it anymore,mother. That's why divorce was the sensible course," he finished his speech.
She thought for a moment and then clarified, "You knew she loved someone else and you married her anyway?"
He nodded back at her and she continued,
"And you divorced her knowing she loved you?"
Rhett didn't know what to answer and his mother looked at him expectantly.
"Mother, it's not that simple. She loves you, she doesn't love you. She thinks so today, and in a couple weeks she'll play with her love and go looking for something new. Scarlett is such a child, mother."
"Darling, you met her when she was sixteen. Yes, I agree, everyone is still a child at that age. But having been through the war and all those hardships, do you really think she hasn't grown up, Rhett? She's almost thirty and she didn't seem like an infantile girl!"
"Even so, mother, I can't risk my heart, you've seen the papers, we're officially divorced..."
"And are you happier now, Rhett?"
He remained silent and Mrs. Butler continued to speak, but watched her son's reaction carefully, "In any case, there's little that can be undone now. And, as you told me once, sooner or later there will be a 'husband number four'..."
Rhett didn't hear what his mother was saying next, but went cold. When he had spoken those words to his mother, they had only been words, but now... Now it became suddenly a reality. There could be another man. Who would marry her. Who would touch her like he always wanted, kiss her, sleep with her. Who she would give a child to. A sudden feeling of jealousy and bitterness swept over him, as if he'd been transported back years when he'd learned she'd married old man Kennedy.
Miss Eleanor watched Rhett grow pale and thoughtful, clenched his hands into fists and stopped speaking, turning away by the window. She hid a triumphant smile. He loved. Her son loved this woman, though he wouldn't admit it to himself. He had done so many silly things, hasty decisions, harsh words, but he loved!
It would be her trump card, she would keep it until her son returned from Europe. He wouldn't be there long, she was sure of it.
That left Scarlett. Eleanor sighed, thinking of her daughter-in-law. Why she hadn't opened up to her, why she'd left in such a hurry; they could have avoided this terrible situation together. Well, they would have to keep in touch through her aunts and Peter for now. Miss Eleanor decided not to write her herself, it would also be her trump card, let these two stubborn people do not know her true thoughts, it would be easier for her to observe them and do something about it.
Ms. Eleanor sighed again, walked over to her son, and stroked his shoulder affectionately.
He didn't turn around, but she asked him, "I take it you'll be leaving soon, Rhett?"
"Yes, tomorrow morning, Mother."
"Then let's all have dinner together, Darling. I'll wait for you downstairs."
With these words Mrs. Butler left her son's room, leaving him to stand alone and gaze out at the evening twilight.
News of the divorce spread like a fire on dry grass in July. Scarlett wondered where the gossip had come from; it certainly wasn't Uncle Henry. Maybe the assistants in his office who were making all the arrangements. Surely they must have gone to play poker at the saloon or even Belle's. "Men are very chatty," she thought.
But it wasn't just men who were chatty. Women were not in the least inferior to them.
She had seen the way Mrs. Meade and Mrs. Elsing looked at her on the street, the way they frowned and pressed their lips together. How Mrs. Merriwether doesn't hesitate to speak loudly, not forgetting to use the surname "Butler."
But the worst part was seeing her. The red-haired woman with the triumphant look, who seemed to make it a point to drive past her store.
God, she hated Belle. Not because she was a whore. It was because she was with him. Even worse, she was his friend and lover. Fantasizing about him touching this woman, kissing her, whispering in her ear all those words he'd once whispered to her in the dark of night-it all burned her soul from the inside out. She seemed to be filled with jealousy at these thoughts.
At times like this, she clenched her hands tightly into fists so that her nail marks were imprinted on her palms.
She didn't care about gossip about herself, she'd grown accustomed to it over the years. But she always wondered why people were so interested in it, because everyone had their own life. Still, everything could be tolerated until it came to the children. She could feel her whole gut rebelling and she mentally prepared to leap like a tigress to cover the children with her body and unleash her claws. They shouldn't have to go through this. No way.
She had to talk to the children and explain everything to them. Scarlett didn't want to delay the conversation.
One Sunday morning, when the papers had already been sent, they gathered in the nursery, chatting, drawing with Ella, listening to Wade's reading.
Scarlett realized the moment had arrived and said confidently, "Wade, Ella, I need to talk to you about something. Can we do it right now?"
The children looked at her surprised and nodded.
"You see," she continued, "soon in our town you may hear some talk about me and your Uncle Rhett. I'd like to tell you all about it myself."
It was evident how Wade froze and tensed, and Ella looked at her in surprise.
"Rhett and I are no longer husband and wife," Scarlett said firmly, and her heart skipped a beat as usual at these thoughts.
"So he abandoned you? Abandoned us?" asked Wade loudly, waking up from his daze.
Scarlett turned pale and began to speak, "Wade, darling, I don't think the word 'abandoned' is the appropriate word to use here. You know ..."
"No, I don't know!", he interrupted her abruptly, jumped to his feet and quickly ran out of the nursery.
Scarlett almost shouted, "Wade Hampton, come back here now!" but stopped herself in time. Her son was in pain, he was very young, he was still a child. A proud boy who didn't want to show his tears to his mother or sister.
"Damn you, Rhett Butler!" she thought bitterly and turned to Ella, who was sitting on the couch next to her, almost crying.
"Ella, sweetheart... "Scarlett crouched close to her and hugged her tightly. Ella laid her head on her mother's lap and Scarlett sat and stroked her soft curls affectionately.
"So I'll never see Uncle Rhett again? Aunt Rosemary? Peter? And Grandmother Butler?"
Scarlett smiled sadly and replied, "Well of course not, baby. Peter's waiting for us to visit in Savannah, you can write letters to Rosemary and I think if they invite you and Wade to their place, I'd love to let you go visit them. And Rhett wanted to write to you, too. And he will, honey, he loves you very much, I know he does."
"But not as much as Bonnie, yes, Mother?" interrupted Ella. "He would never leave Bonnie. Then he doesn't love us that much..."
Scarlett was almost crying. How was she supposed to explain to the little girl the complexities of their relationships. Because of her mistakes, "their mistakes," she corrected herself, her children were suffering.
"Honey, he does, he really does. It's just not about you or Bonnie. This is between us, Ella, this is between adults..." tried to explain Scarlett.
"So he doesn't love you anymore, mummy?" asked Ella quietly.
Scarlett's heart skipped a beat again and she swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment. It just had to be said.
"Yes, Honey," she replied quietly, "I guess he doesn't love me anymore."
"Then I won't love him either!" exclaimed Ella loudly, wiping her eyes with her hands.
She jumped up, adjusted her dress angrily and said, "I'm going to find Prissy, mummy. She promised to bake cookies with me," with those words she gave Scarlett a quick kiss on the cheek and ran out of the nursery.
Scarlett left alone and sighed heavily.
"So much for talking. Damn you, Rhett Butler! Why did I even meet you at that bloody barbecue! Damn!" she thought and tried to calm herself by picking up paper and paintings from the nursery floor.
She realized that the conversation wasn't over, it had barely been started with Wade. There was no way she wanted them to suffer. And she didn't want to interrupt their communication with their stepfather either. Despite all her anger at him and this whole situation, she knew he loved Wade and Ella as if they were his own children. But really, there was a reasonable argument in her daughter's words. Then he didn't love them hard enough. He would never leave Bonnie... She sighed heavily, these thoughts would get her nowhere. With a glance at the cleaned room, Scarlett quietly walked out, closing the door behind her.