The short walk over to the Wilkes' house seemed to stretch on forever, Scarlett's reluctance making her feet drag heavily along the sidewalk. With every hated step, she cursed her errant husband's name, damning him for leaving her to face the wolves alone.
All day, she had been expecting to hear the front door open, and had bent her ear to catch the sound of Wade's gambolling stride followed by the reassuring patter of Rhett's light tread. She had been so sure they would return today, that Rhett would remember the commitment he had made to Melly and come back to see it through.
Once, she'd have had no such faith in him. For all Rhett's expensive clothes and fancy cologne, Scarlett had been only too aware of the dishonorable skunk that lay beneath the apparent finery. Yet, since their wedding, he had almost succeeded in making her forget his true nature.
His disappearing act last week had changed all of that, reminding her sharply of his caddish character. Well, she would never forget again. Scarlett O'Hara was no man's fool and Rhett would rue the day he'd tried to make her one.
That Rhett knew how much she despised these gatherings made his betrayal all the worse. Dr Meade and India Wilkes had always hated her and now she'd have to endure their ugly little faces lighting up with glee when they saw her arriving alone.
And to think that she had been looking forward to this supper when Rhett had first told her about it! She had even dared to hope he would shield her from the scorn of Atlanta's finest. What a simpleton she had been to imagine he would protect her. The same man who delighted in seeing her humbled.
No doubt Rhett had planned this from the very start. Even if their argument hadn't given him the excuse he'd needed to run off, he would have declined to attend the party anyway. He'd have callously pushed Scarlett through the door before heading off to Belle's for a night of drink and debauchery.
If only I were a man, Scarlett cursed inwardly as she neared the Wilkes' home. Then I could think up some similar excuse to get out of going.
Though she was not normally one to hide her face when things got tough, Scarlett had kept an unusually low profile this last fortnight, barely visiting her businesses and only venturing outside when she knew no one would be around to see her.
Rhett's abandonment had wrong-footed her completely. She had not expected to feel so vulnerable in his absence, nor to miss the solid bulk of him so acutely.
Wanting to keep awkward questions to a minimum, she had made no social calls since he'd left, even going so far as to feign illness on the two occasions Melanie had tried to call in on her at home. She'd been planning on using the same trick to excuse herself from tonight's proceedings, but Mammy had warned her that if she, as a newlywed, stayed hidden much longer then other, more burdensome rumors were bound to start circulating.
Besides, Melanie could be surprisingly bullish where her friends were concerned and Scarlett could well picture her refusing to serve Dr. Meade his supper until he'd come over to give Scarlett a full examination.
No, unpleasant though it would undoubtedly be, it was better to simply get this dinner over and done with. Hopefully, the other guests would have their own news to impart and Scarlett would be spared the burden of having to think up an excuse for Rhett and Wade's absence.
And, of course, there was always Ashley to make the evening sweeter. It had been almost a month since she had last seen him properly. Things had been strained between them ever since she'd announced her engagement, and Scarlett was eager to reclaim her place in his affections.
Perhaps she could draw him to one side and assure him that while Rhett may be richer and more handsome than her previous husbands, he had not made a deeper impression upon her heart than Charles or Frank before him.
She could only imagine how such knowledge would cheer him. He had been against their marriage from the first and would be relieved to hear Scarlett had not been seduced by Rhett's wicked ways. In light of recent events, she regretted not having paid more heed to Ashley's reservations, able to console herself only with the thought that, if she did have to be married to a skunk, at least she had chosen one whose bank balance helped make his other, less appealing attributes easier to endure.
Speaking of dishonorable people, Melanie hadn't been the only one to try calling at Scarlett's house. Sylvia, Mamie and Bridget had also come a-knocking. Scarlett had delighted Mammy no end by declaring that she could be as curt as she pleased when informing the three so-called ladies that Scarlett was not available to take their calls. Her servant had risen to the challenge with a vengeance and she doubted any of her new set would be in a hurry to visit her again after finding themselves on the receiving end of Mammy's famously sharp tongue.
Despite the satisfaction Scarlett had felt to see them sent away with a flea in their ear, she could not help but miss their company once they were gone. Scarlett often felt more comfortable in their presence than she did when forced to spend time with the Old Guard.
Her situation wasn't helped by the fact she had never been one for sitting around idly at home, whiling away the hours by engaging in some dull, womanly pursuit like reading or sewing. Such idle pastimes repelled her for they served no practical purpose and were impossible to make a profit from.
She tried to keep this thought in mind as she arrived outside the Wilkes' gate, reasoning that a night spent in bad company was still preferable to one spent alone with a book.
Fixing a smile upon her face, she made her way up the path and spotted Dilcey waiting at the door to relieve her of her coat. After exchanging pleasantries with her former servant, she passed through into the parlour. She had to work hard to keep her smile in place when she saw that the Meades, Aunt Pittypat and India had all gotten there before her.
Standing on the threshold of the room, she was half-tempted to turn around before anyone spotted her. The cowardly nature of that thought awoke her dormant fighting spirit and, squaring her shoulders, Scarlett stepped inside. Flicking her eyes from face to face, she breathed easier when she caught sight of the woman who, through some strange twist of fate, had ended up becoming her longest and most steadfast of friends.
Melanie's small, heart-shaped face was flushed with exertion as she flitted from one guest to another, making sure their glasses remained full to the point of overflowing.
'Scarlett, dear!' she exclaimed upon spying her friend in the doorway. 'I'm so glad you were able to join us. I've been worrying about you all week! If you weren't well enough to come tonight I was going to ask Dr. Meade if he wouldn't mind paying you a visit, but I see now that there's no need. You look simply wonderful.'
Preening at the compliment, Scarlett was not surprised to have her suspicions about Dr. Meade confirmed. Scarlett could only imagine the pressure Melanie would have exacted on the poor, hungry doctor to make him come around and check on her.
'Dinner is almost ready,' Melly said as she handed Scarlett a glass of wine. 'We're just waiting for Uncle Henry and then we'll go through to the dining room. Ashley has gone to meet him from the office. I had better go and make sure everything is ready in time for their arrival. I'd hate to keep anyone waiting.'
Disappointed to learn that Ashley wasn't already home, Scarlett felt a pang of unease as Melanie made her exit. Her friend irritated her frequently, but at least she could always be relied upon to include Scarlett in the conversation. Without her guileless warmth, the room grew chilly.
Glancing at the other guests, Scarlett decided that her aunt was probably the lesser of four evils.
'How are you feeling tonight, Aunty?' she asked, confident that the next few minutes would be eaten up with in-depth recollections of Pittypat's many imaginary ailments.
Thankfully her aunt - ever on the lookout for people to vent her terrible suffering to - did not disappoint. Halfway through a particularly long and impassioned speech about a fainting spell brought on by the unfortunate - and highly improbable - rumour that Rufus Bullock intended to buy up a vacant property on Peachtree Street, Scarlett felt some of the tension in her shoulders give way.
Perhaps this evening wouldn't turn out so badly after all. If she could secure a seat by her aunt at dinner and keep her talking long enough to prevent anyone from asking any awkward questions, then it might even prove a surprisingly painless affair.
As if sensing her fledgling hopes and wanting to crush them before they took flight, India chose that moment to cross the carpet and engage Scarlett in conversation.
'Will Mr. Butler not be joining us this evening, Scarlett?' she asked, the hard, knowing gleam in her beady eyes belaying her seemingly innocent question.
'No, he's away on business. He was hoping to be back this evening, but unfortunately, it's proving trickier to close the deal than he'd anticipated.'
'That's a pity. It must be terrible for you to part with him so soon after your wedding. No wonder you have been feeling under the weather.'
'Indeed,' Scarlett answered shortly, turning back to her aunt.
'Forgive me for prying,' India pressed on, 'but I couldn't help but wonder why you didn't accompany him. If it had been my husband, I would have wanted to remain by his side.'
Stopping herself from sniping that India would first need to find herself a man dim-witted enough to marry her, Scarlett smiled icily, and replied, 'As much as I would have liked to go with him, we agreed that he would get more work done if he went alone. You see, the deal he is trying to secure is rather sensitive and he needs to give it his full attention.'
'And yet I understand he took Wade with him? How strange. One would have thought a child would prove a far larger distraction than a wife.'
Scarlett watched Pittypat's hands flutter in growing agitation and clenched her fingers to stop them from reaching out and delivering a swift yank to India's hair. She couldn't afford for the party to descend into a brawl less than five minutes after she'd walked through the door. Already she could see the Meades inclining their heads in her direction, impatient to hear her answer.
Damn India and her bitterness! Everyone knew she and Stuart were a terrible match. He was far too red-blooded for her to handle and yet still she insisted on acting the part of the wronged woman, punishing Scarlett time and again for stealing a beau who would only have gone and died on her anyway.
If a woman couldn't keep her man then she had no right to him and Scarlett would not apologise for being prettier and gayer than some plain, miserable old spinster who persisted in acting like she'd turned fifty on her eighteenth birthday and wouldn't know the meaning of fun if it jumped up and smacked her in the face.
All discretion leaving her, Scarlett's eyes flashed as cold and hard as emeralds as she sniped, 'Oh, but there are many ways for a wife to distract her husband, India. Not that you'd know the first thing about any of them. How could you, when you've never been fortunate enough to have a ring placed on your finger?'
Taking grim satisfaction from the flash of hurt that swept across India's cold eyes, Scarlett ignored the disapproving looks from the other guests and took a large sip from her glass, enjoying the bracing burn of the alcohol as it hit the back of her throat.
It felt good to be out again, putting her detractors firmly in their place. She saw now how foolish she had been to hide herself away, for there was no insult they could level at her that she hadn't heard a hundred times before. She had always lived her life exactly as she pleased, consequences be damned, and she wasn't about to change her ways just because Rhett had shocked her by running away.
Scarlett had survived well enough without him in the past and she'd do it again if she had to. From now on if he wanted to go off on extended trips, spending most of his time away from Atlanta and the home they had built together then she would not be the one to stop him. Nor would she ever again be afraid to hold up her head around this town.
Scarlett's mood brightened further when she heard the sound of voices in the hallway. Finishing the last of her wine, Scarlett bit her lips to make them appear flushed and fetchingly plump. It had been so long since Ashley had last seen her, and she wanted him to think her pretty.
She had worn a particularly alluring green dress in honor of the occasion and did not need a mirror to know she was by far the most attractive woman in attendance. Surely, Ashley could not fail to notice, and the admiration in his eyes would carry her through the rest of the evening, reminding her that she was still wanted by the only person whose opinion truly mattered.
Seeing his golden head appear, she took a step forward, India's glare burning a hole into her back.
Smiling widely, she caught his eye and was just about to greet him when her attention was snared by her uncle. Henry was entering the room behind Ashley, his head turned to the left as he conversed with another man. A man whom no one had expected to be at the party tonight.
The newcomer's eyes leapt up to fix upon Scarlett's, a frisson of heat shooting between them. Breaking her gaze, the man swept into the room and calmly took in the scene before him. His mouth curved downwards as he noticed her flushed cheeks and bright eyes, no doubt connecting them to Ashley's recent arrival. He barked out a short, humorless laugh, his eyes firmly back on hers.
'Hello, Scarlett,' he drawled, walking over to plant the briefest, most perfunctory of kisses upon her cheek.
Caught up in a web of anger and embarrassment, she replied, 'Hello, Rhett.'