Chapter 20. Duncan's harvest: Ashley, Rhett and Belle Watling!
The same day, Thursday March 11, 1876, 4 p.m., Atlanta, Peachtree Street
"Scarlett..." He could not add anything else. They remained silent for a few moments. She had lowered her head. He put his hand on her shoulder as a sign of commiseration.
At that precise moment, one knocked lightly in the doorway, and Ashley caught them almost embraced.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Pale.
ooooOOoooo
They looked up at the same time.
The most naturally as possible, Scarlett went to greet him. All signs of her temporary weakness were gone.
"Ashley, I am glad to see you. Ella was delighted with her day."
She did not notice her brother-in-law's livid complexion.
The latter made an effort on himself to recompose his posture of the phlegmatic gentleman. He ignored on purpose the stranger who, a moment ago, was too close to the young woman.
Ashley took both of her hands and brought them in turn to his lips.
He uttered just one word: "Scarlett", and knowingly kept his mouth on her thin skin for longer than decency would allow. To make clear to the stranger his proximity to their host.
Scarlett took no offense, as if accustomed to such shared intimacy.
Duncan felt an incomprehensible pang of jealousy.
Eventually, she pulled away and looked at the two men in turn. "Ashley, let me introduce you to Duncan Vayton. He is the master of Haute Couture in the United States, after having been that one in Paris!" Her tone was playful.
"Duncan, this is Beau's father, my brother-in-law, Ashley Wilkes. He was the husband of my dearest Melanie who passed away. »
Both men stiffened and nodded slightly in greeting. They silently looked at each other.
In a split second, both of them analyzed the situation: Ashley saw the intruder as an attractive man, younger than himself. Duncan surmised the special status of the man who did not need to be announced by the butler to enter the drawing room.
The charming belle of Clayton County became aware of the tension, so palpable in the living room. Frankly, this was highly amusing! How pleasant it was to be back in the days when the Tarleton brothers and other suitors were fighting each other for her attention!
Finally, she marked the end of the game. "It is tea time. Prissy is going to serve the children some cake in the playroom. Coffee for you, Duncan, and tea for you, Ashley, isn't right? Please, excuse me for a moment." Then she left the room.
While waiting for her, they did not pretend to be civilians. The atmosphere was at loggerheads. They were sizing each other up, seemingly waiting to see who would move their pieces first.
Her instructions given in the kitchen, Scarlett returned.
She took a few seconds to compare both men: Duncan and his flamboyance, Ashley with his beautiful tarnished armor...
She undertook to break the ice between her two suitors.
"What a great idea you had to show the children the Parkinson's toy factory! Ella's classmate had told her about it, and she had been begging me for months to visit it.»
Ashley smiled, "They each chose a toy. The boys opted for some elaborate construction games, because the artisan has an imagination. Ella chose an animated puppet. I have never seen her so excited. »
Scarlett pouted in disapproval. "Ashley, you should not have spoiled them like that! I shall ask Ella to behave more calmly next time. You know how restless she can be, to the point that it irritates me sometimes."
Ashley's eyes lit up. "Scarlett, how could she compete with her mother, the bubbly child who ran up and down the fields, climbing trees, and pulling the boys from the surrounding plantations with her like a magnet? »
At the mention of Scarlett as a child, Duncan's mood softened.
Once again, Ashley's mind wandered back to the good old days. This time, he did it knowingly to mark his advantage in front of the one who looked very much like a potential rival.
"Do you remember when you fell into the water? It was hot that day. I think you were racing with your friends. One of the Tarleton twins wanted to catch you on the bank. You slipped. I remember the scene as if it were yesterday. At that particular spot in the river, the bottom is deep, and the water flow violently. »
As she was listening to the slow and melancholy rhythm of Ashley's voice, Scarlett's thoughts were carried away, too, to that sunny afternoon. "It was Stuart. I had challenged them to catch me. The first one to do so would be rewarded with a kiss.»
Her eyes caught those of her childhood companion. For a fraction of a second, she was no longer aware of the presence of the handsome tailor. Only the sweetness of that paradisiacal summer, before the war, when Ellen and Gerald protected her, counted.
"I was visiting your father in Tara. And I heard you laugh. I got off my horse and I approached. You already were in the middle of the river, waving your arms to try to get out of the water."
"Yes, the twins were too young to have to strength to catch me and face the powerful stream. You jumped into the water. I grabbed you by the neck, and you carried me to shore. »
Ashley's face was transfigured, mesmerized by the vision that had just resurfaced. "I took you in my arms and laid you at the foot of a tree surrounded by moss. You were shaking. Your clothes were soaked - as were mine. Your dress was white. I remember it very well. The fabric was strewn with flowers, rosebuds, and large green leaves. »
Ashley dipped his clear eyes into Scarlett's. "And I was the one who won your award. »
His chest were rising sporadically. Scarlett's cheeks turned pink at the evocative memory.
Silence fell in the room.
Duncan could not take it anymore. It was clear that this was very different from the sibling relationship between sister-in-law and brother-in-law. There was so much more to their conversation. Of course, they were sharing childhood memories.
But there was something else, and it was plain to see. Unspoken words, emotions on the surface...
His jealousy was going to make him explode!
He cleared his throat loudly to try to break the spell of the scene that was becoming unbearable.
This was enough to bring Scarlett and Ashley back to reality.
Scarlett had a shoulder movement to chase away the shadows of the past. Damn it! Once again, Ashley has managed to make me melancholic! She had paid dearly enough for stirring up nostalgia on his "unforgettable" birthday. She firmly chided herself; all that matters is the present, my plans, and The Boutique Robillard.
She focused the conversation on less hotter matters: "I already told you about my plans for a luxury clothing store. Thanks to Duncan, it is going to be easier to make it happen. A couple of weeks ago, he gave me a tour of his spinning mill and sewing workshop in Charleston. It was such a rewarding visit. Wealthy clients in Atlanta are going to be fighting for the beautiful dresses he created.»
Ashley picked up only one word. Turning to the visitor, "Do you live in Charleston?"
Before Duncan could respond, he caught the questioning look the man exchanged with Scarlett. She simply blinked. Without understanding why, he felt uneasy.
The young dressmaker answered in a confident voice. "My family is one of the oldest in that beautiful city. I spent ten years in Paris. I am finally back home. »
"The return of the prodigal son!" commented Ashley flatly.
"Yes, unfortunately, due to the death of my father. I had only returned to the United States for a time to fight with our people on the front lines. »
Ashley finally seemed interested in the visitor. "What company did you fight in?"
The two men engaged in an off-the-cuff conversation about their accomplishments, which delighted Scarlett, who was happy to see that they were finally communicating.
"Our cause was lost in advance. We were ill-prepared. "Ashley's bitterness resurfaced. "We had not even thought to anticipate the blockade that would inexorably be placed upon us. Our beautiful Army was fighting in tatters because of a lack of supplies. We were the bravest, and the most miserable in the end. »
His fellow soldier nodded." I agree with you. That explains why I used my spinning mill in France to make uniforms for our soldiers. Of course, the quantity produced was a mere grain of sand compared to the needs of our Army. However at least I had the satisfaction of bringing a little comfort to our valiant fighters. »
Ashley agreed. He honestly appreciated what the Charlestonian had tried for the Cause.
Duncan concluded, "In order to make this work, I had to fight for the supply of cotton bales and reduce the time of manufacturing beyond what was possible. The greatest difficulty I faced was dealing with the usurious financial demands of a blockade breaker who refused to ship my load! »
He stopped in his impulse because he had just surprised the glances of understanding exchanged between Scarlett and her brother-in-law. This obvious complicity, without a word needing to be expressed, began to irritate him strongly.
Then came back in memory an allusion that the young woman had made on her friend blockade breaker. It meant that Ashley had known him too, and that his anecdote had made them think of this adventurer.
Scarlett continued: "Thanks to you, our soldiers were able to put on sturdy and warm clothes for a while. »
Ashley replied, "Unfortunately, this was far from the case for all of us. Our clothes were so worn and torn that the beautiful gray uniform of our Confederate Army became a bundle of old clothes. Do you remember the day I finally came home from the war? I could barely walk. You and Melly were on the porch at that time. »
Scarlett nodded her head in agreement.
"I was wearing nothing but rags. And yet... Do you know how hard I fought to preserve the yellow sash under my belt as long as possible? »
Again, Duncan overheard an intense interaction between Scarlett and her brother-in-law.
He was certain that the man was deliberately bringing up these very personal anecdotes to make the intruder, himself, feel that Scarlett belonged exclusively in Ashley Wilkes' world. This was confirmed a second later.
"In the rain, in the snow, I tried to protect it because it reminded me of the woman who sewed it for me and gave it to me on my Christmas leave." He finished his sentence in a choked voice.
Duncan was watching for any reaction from the young woman.
With an intonation that seemed to come from far away, she specified: "Yes, a beautiful yellow embroidered silk that a friend had just brought me from Paris..."
In an instant, a stream of emotions were embracing Scarlett: her joy when she had encircled his waist with the sash on his beautiful uniform, while Melly had remained upstairs in their bedroom; their exchanged kiss; and Rhett's pleasure when he had offered her the precious fabric chosen for her in Paris... »
She shook herself. "Let's get back to the present."
Her adamant tone broke the enchantment Ashley had wanted to revive.
Duncan breathed a sigh of relief. He could hold the cards again, chase down their memories and create more beautiful ones with the Atlanta beauty.
The conversation dragged on for a few more minutes. Ashley took his leave, accepting Scarlett's invitation, "As we do every Sunday, we will be expecting you and Beau to share the lunch.»
Duncan returned to his hotel, having told her that he would pick her up at 7 p.m. and take her to the restaurant.
ooooOOoooo
Same day, Thursday, March 11, 1876, 7 p.m., Atlanta, 4 Whitehall Street, Thompson's Restaurant
When he returned to Peachtree Street at 7 p.m., he was once again in awe of Scarlett's evening attire.
Her satin dress, of a blue color sapphire, such the set of earrings matched with her necklace, left him stunned, so much her beauty was – if possible - more heightened.
On the way to the restaurant, Scarlett asked for a stop in front of the site of her future store.
Duncan was taken by the large windows and Corinthian columns inside, which added solemnity to the whole place.
"Very good choice, Scarlett. Brightness, space, style! This looks perfect for The Boutique Robillard! May I suggest an idea? How about hanging your Robillard grandmother's painting, which adorns your dining room, in the best location facing the entrance? Its French elegance will complete the perfection of the style you want to give to your company. And... everyone will know who Solange Robillard was - that was her name, wasn't it? »
Scarlett nodded enthusiastically. "What a great idea! To thank you for your brilliant advice, I think I am going to entitle you as the godfather of The Boutique Robillard!"
They walked out of the future shop laughing, just as Mrs. Merriwether Meade were passing by. A pinched "Hello Scarlett!" was followed by an inquiring glance at the elegant stranger accompanying her. Scarlett answered with her affable and hypocritical smile especially dedicated to the "old magpies" of the Old Guard.
They arrived at the restaurant, the best in Atlanta. The one Rhett liked to take her to for a treat. Scarlett had not been there since her divorce.
On Duncan's arm, she was ready to face her ghosts.
After helping her out of the buggy, The Charlestonian observed the bustle of the shopping street, even at this late hour, and amused himself with an observation: "I have just made a discovery on my first visit to your town: all roads lead to Peachtree Street and to you, Charming Scarlett O'Hara!"
As she was raising a wary eyebrow, he cheerfully explained, "The Kimball House, the hotel I am staying at, which imposing building is recognizable at the end of this avenue, leads directly to Peachtree Street. So does the Restaurant on White Hall Street. I conclude that the urban planning of the Georgian capital has been developed to highlight the famous Peachtree Street, and its most prestigious work of art... You! Scarlett O'Hara!"
Scarlett refrained from letting her laughter burst onto the sidewalk. They both chuckled discreetly at this amusing deduction.
Duncan appreciated the subdued atmosphere of the establishment.
"Of the ten places that deserve the title of 'restaurant', Thompson's is the most prized by gourmets for its elevated quality of refined cuisine." (*1)
"I thank you all the more for letting me discover it, Scarlett!"
"I must concede that I have no merit in the matter: my former husband had a predilection for this one."
Discreetly, she glanced briefly at the other customers, and lowered her voice even further: "Fortunately, a few couples are seated this evening. When I first came here with my former husband some ten years ago, I was the only female presence!"
Duncan did not miss the opportunity to compliment her: "Among a whole assembly of ladies, you will always be the only one! The one on whom admiring attention is focused, neglecting all the others!"
Scarlett accepted his flattery, deepening her dimples in thanks, then continued: "Of course, this is not surprising since - as you know - not so long ago, these refined spaces were reserved for you, men; few women of quality rarely ate at restaurants and then only if invited by their husbands. The owner, Robert Thompson, was particularly rigorous in observing this rule. Until finally, six years ago, he recognized that women needed an establishment to dine in while shopping or meeting friends unattended in the confines of a female-friendly space. I remember an article in the Atlanta Constitution. The journalist ridiculed New York women who were taking up the "Parisian custom" of eating at restaurants, deploring the fact that in New York "you may see women and girls sitting at the same table with men and ordering their meals with the nonchalance of old habitués. (*1)
Duncan chuckled with pleasure - "Laughing" would not have been proper at the Thompson's. "Your humor and ability to lucidly analyze the mores of our honorable Southern society are a pure pleasure to my ears."
How charming he was... She concluded: "It is only an inkling yet. I must confess that my status in this matter was more privileged, and the doors of this place were wide open to me - thanks to my former husband's."
Her emerald eyes suddenly were launching lightings: « and those doors have stayed open for me, thanks to my successful business which move back heavy habits, even the ones of the stiff Thompson! Therefore, we can both enjoy this delicious food tonight."
Among a wide choice of delicate dishes, both opted for the quail on toast stuffed with raisins preserved in cognac - "A delight! It is one of the Chef's specialties".
After the Maître d' had taken their order, Scarlett quietly chuckled as she confided in him, "If you wanted to keep your visit to Atlanta low-key, I am afraid the secret will be out by next week! »
Duncan raised an eyebrow, amused by her suddenly mutinous expression.
The latter did not let him wait: "Earlier, you had the honor of meeting the two most famous gossips of Atlanta's honorable society. Tomorrow one of them will hasten to send a letter in cryptic terms to my Robillard aunts in Charleston. Who, of course, will be glad to let the members of their charity committee know that the famous couturier Duncan Vayton has been caught in Atlanta on the arm of the scandalous Scarlett O'Hara. »
The man laughed heartily. His mother's company had accustomed him to the gossip of the privileged Charlestonian circle.
"Scandalous? You are a never-ending source of surprises. »
A cloud of annoyance crossed the gaze of his dining companion. "Ever since I arrived in Atlanta years ago, I have always been graced with the attention of kind souls wanting to force me to conform to their monotonous housewife life. You have understood how much I thrive as a business woman. Against all odds, I had to fight off the criticism and slander of those who did not accept my thirst for freedom. On the other hand..." She paused for a few moments, then continued, "Divorce is, in our society, a sign of infamy for the wife, while the former husband will always be glorified for his decision!" Her bitterness was showing through.
Duncan wanted to take her hand to let her know that he would be there to protect her. Propriety prevented him from doing so.
In any case, in the blink of an eye, Scarlett had shaken off the gloom and become light and talkative again.
The meal was excellent, and the Charlestonian congratulated her on having discovered a choice establishment.
Scarlett bit into every bite of the chef's succulent dishes. Her depressive period of anorexia was over. She had regained her healthy appetite, as Duncan looked on in amusement.
He was savoring every minute of the meal, during which the anecdotes shared about Atlanta and the fashion world were a pretext to prolong the pleasure of being with the lady who had bewitched him.
When the desserts' plates were empty, and it was time to enjoy coffee and a liqueur, they were gratified by the arrival at the table of the owner of the establishment.
He only used to lavish attention on his distinguished guests. Especially for a person of quality like Scarlett.
Whenever the Butler couple visited his restaurant, Robert Thompson never missed an opportunity to talk to the famous adventurer about his years of experience as a caterer, which had led him in particular to take an interest in Cajun cuisine, of which Rhett, having frequented New Orleans in the past, was so fond.
Duncan took note of the reverential pose the stuffy-looking man displayed as he addressed his female client.
He heard him say, "It has been so long since you have graced us with your presence. We have missed you, Mrs. Butler! »
Suddenly, the young man was not paying attention anymore to the courteous words that they were exchanging. The sounds of their conversation diluted with the unintelligible surrounding noises. The people present in the room became pantomimes with slowed-down gestures wrapped in a diffuse fog.
In order to maintain a detached posture, he had to call upon the coolness that had helped him many times in the past to face the untenable situations.
In the depths of his being, myriads of emotions were boiling, clashing, and disrupting all coherent thought patterns, except for one:
In front of him stood the former wife of his neighbor from the Magnolias' Mansion!
Images, allusions, and glances, suddenly were intertwining to make an entity of implacable logic, transforming his fleeting perceptions into a raw reality.
So many signs should have put him on the track! Starting with the description of the former Mrs. Butler, "exceptionally beautiful and fiery," according to John's account of those who had met her. How could he have been so blind? That was the very definition of the Scarlett incarnation!
Since the day they first met, clues had been sprinkled throughout a high-profile divorce from an Atlanta society woman, a child who died at a young age, the mysterious blockade-breaker friend, Scarlett's confused look at his mention, the word "Charleston" that made Ashley flinch, and even little Ella...
Another reality flashed through his mind: John's allusion to the scandalous Mrs. Butler. What had been his friend's words that night when they had witnessed Rhett Butler's advanced drunkenness at the Gentlemen's Club? He was remembering it now: "She had been having an affair for a long time with her brother-in-law." John had doubted the veracity of these unproven rumors though.
A cold sweat ran down his spine. Ashley's behavior that afternoon; the suggested evocation of the kiss after the river episode; the sash adorning his uniform, carefully guarded like a treasure, whose silk had been imported, at the height of the war, from Paris - no doubt by the blockade breaker, Rhett Butler! How had he accepted the fact that she had used his gift to offer to her brother-in-law? Unless he had never known - the turmoil he had felt between them during their exchanges...
Had they been lovers? Duncan felt his blood run cold. He would never know. Anyway, it was obvious that this Wilkes had considered him a rival from the first minute they met.
Scandalous Scarlett, as she had just proclaimed herself tonight! So exciting Scarlett who had managed to inflame him by her presence alone...
He was honest with himself though: this revelation did not change his irrepressible attraction for her. On the contrary! His discovery enveloped the beautiful one of a perfume of sulfur which rose his fever even more.
Everything in her transpired sensuality. How could she not unleash passions?
In a fraction of a second, he understood why Rhett Butler was getting so drunk he could not walk. Because he could not bear the thought of losing such a woman.
A memory sprang to mind. The two of them leaving the Magnolias' Mansion, talking in the yard by the buggy; Scarlett's laughter; his neighbors shout, "No!"; the broken glass on the piazza; and Rhett Butler's crazy look in their direction.
In the blink of an eye, Duncan had assumed that his unsteady neighbor was drunk that day. If that was true, there was the possibility that he took Scarlett's vision in the next yard as a drunken hallucination.
Anyway, there was now one certainty: he was not alone to covet Scarlett O'Hara, former wife Butler. Her brother-in-law Ashley Wilkes, the lover of the past, and her former husband. His seductive male instincts pointed to the source of the greatest danger: Rhett Butler!
He tried to concentrate on the restaurateur's chatty words. "The Chef informed me that you had chosen our signature dish, the stuffed quail. Did you notice the Atlanta Constitution article from just a few days ago? Its reporter was so pleased with his visit to our premises that he published the following in our honor:
"Quail on Thompson toast
Are its glory and its pride
While his oysters on the shell
Sound the sad knell of hunger." (*1)
The man delighted in the beautiful woman's reaction: "Oh, how charming! And so in keeping with the excellence of your cuisine!"
Duncan was watching Scarlett. Although she hid it well by charmingly supporting the Thompson's conversation, she was really getting impatient and was about to end the discussion.
He had to make a decision. Quickly. Should he tell her that his Charleston neighbor was in fact her former husband? He had immediately sensed that her divorce had affected her.
If she learned the truth, she would not risk coming to the fashion exhibition on May 27. She would avoid meeting him, for fear of running into her former husband. Therefore, he would not have an excuse to see her any time soon. This idea was intolerable to him.
He had to hide his discovery from her!
Of course, she would learn sooner or later that the Butlers lived next door to him. Maybe even on the day of the fashion show. Though he doubted it. According to his mother, Mrs. Butler was sorry for her son's change in behavior, as he no longer left the house during the day, refusing all the invitations his sister collected for him. From then on, his only outings were in the evening, "to meet gentlemen at his club," she told her. With a little luck -and Duncan had never been short of it until now- his neighbor would also turn down the invitation to the fashion show.
After her arrival in Charleston on the 27th, the moment Scarlett would learn the truth would no longer be crucial! He would be able to act surprised. How could he have known it was her former husband? The restaurateur had called his client "Mrs. Butler. So be it. Butler was a common enough name. He had no reason to make the connection.
Meanwhile, she was tactfully ending the conversation with her talkative interlocutor, who left with a bow.
Duncan had come to his senses. His decision was set.
"This evening has been a treat, Duncan. I have not been so distracted in a long time. It is all thanks to you. It is getting late, and we should better leave. I still have to go over my books before the Kennedy store transfer. »
"I am deeply grateful for the honor of your company at this dinner. Ella's presence, and therefore yours and Wade's," he added with a broad smile, "is absolutely essential to my Haute Couture show on May 27. It is best if you arrive at Duncan's Fashion around 6 p.m. so that my seamstress can check the final adjustments to the princess dress your little Ella will wear. I am sure it will fit her perfectly," he said with the confidence of a professional. "I shall pick you up at your aunts'' with your two children. »
"Do not bother. We will walk. You know that it is only a few dozen yards separating the two houses.»
"Very well. I am looking forward to seeing you again, Scarlett. You will be my guest of honor! »
The Maître d' delicately brought the bill to the gentleman, who settled the bill just as discreetly.
Duncan held Scarlett's chair to help her up, and guided her to the dressing room with a light hand under her elbow. He dared to linger his fingers a little too long around her shoulders to help her put on her stole.
"Let me take you home. I am going to hail the driver from the restaurant. »
"Please do not.. I had asked Pork to park in front of the building starting at 9:30. I see him through the window. He is waiting for me. »
Then, digging her dimples, Scarlett said goodbye.
Bringing his hand to the young woman's lips, Duncan let his whiskers trail over the Atlanta beauty's silken skin for a moment. His deep blue eyes looked up at her. "May 27, Scarlett. I shall be waiting for you! »
Back at his hotel, the young man spoke discreetly with the concierge, who was pleased to give the distinguished gentleman the required information.
ooooOOoooo
Later that evening, Thursday March 11, 1876, Atlanta, Saloon «A Girl of All Seasons »
He entered the saloon. So this is Rhett Butler's stronghold!
When he had asked the trusted hotel clerk with a knowing look what the most famous pleasure house in Atlanta was, the latter lowered his voice to answer, without hesitation, "A girl of All Seasons".
Thick smoke was rising like a grayish curtain, giving the flame of the lamps a pallid color.
Duncan's nostrils were assaulted by a brew of smells, those of good rolled tobacco leaves, the pungency of cold ashes, the aromas of fine spirits mixed with the bouquets of cheap wine, all amalgamated with the scent of vulgar perfumes.
Undoubtedly, the male customers had to drag these hints of illicit odors, impregnated into their clothes, into their familial homes. The Charlestonian was disgusted that Scarlett had been exposed to the vulgar fumes imported by her husband into their Peachtree Street home.
It was crowded tonight. The few gaming tables were packed. The poker players focused on their cards, looking up only to challenge their tablemates with a look or take a sip of whiskey. Duncan spotted a number of well-dressed men among them, probably gentlemen from Atlanta's upper crust who were meeting with acquaintances to distract themselves from the monotony of their lives.
Other tables were noisier. We exchanged jokes, we apostrophized each other, and we drank while congratulating each other.
It was a far cry from the hushed atmosphere of the Gentlemen's Club Haven! The place had a festive, loud and drunken atmosphere.
A Girl of All Seasons could have looked like any popular saloon. If one had not notice the nebula of pretty girls was hovering around the customers. They were giggling at their jokes, brushing against them subjectively, and welcoming their wandering hands.
In just a few minutes, Duncan witnessed the hasty departure of a newly formed couple, stealthily making their way to the stairs leading to the second floor.
So it was up there that sex-starved men satisfied their instincts! Including that degenerate Rhett Butler. This qualifier was the best one to gratify his neighbor of the Battery. How did he dare to expose his wife to this mire, whereas Scarlett O'Hara was a jewel that deserved the extreme refinement?
As a womanizer himself, Duncan looked at the "girls" with a critical eye: they were all young and pretty. However, Henri de Boulogne would never allow them to occupy the second floor of the Haven. Too vulgar for the sophisticated members of the Charleston Club!
His gaze stopped on a middle-aged woman who was watching him. When their eyes met, she approached the small table, where the handsome man was sitting, with a swaying gait.
She greeted him and introduced herself: "Good evening, I'm Belle Watling, the owner of this establishment. May I keep you company for a moment?" She pointed to the vacant chair opposite him.
With a wry smile, he nodded. So here she is! he deduced. The famous mistress of Rhett Butler! Under his breath, Duncan mocked his neighbor's taste.
The woman had red hair, so aggressively colored that he doubted it was natural. Fake curls framed her face. She must have been beautiful in old times. Tonight, her features were tired and her face puffy, probably from a regular excess of alcoholic drinks.
Her forms were generous and she was showing them off proudly. The fabric of the dress was of good quality, the dressmaker recognized. The brothel must have been profitable enough for the Madam to be dressed in silk. The skirt, a golden yellow, was embellished with large red roses folded and sewn, the actual size of the flowers. Some would have wanted to pick them. By no means himself!
Her shoulders were bare, draining the eyes on her plunging neckline to generously exposed breasts. She was adorned with jewelry. The necklace, dangling earrings, and bracelet were too flashy. And her tiara in junk beads was ridiculous!
Her ring, set with a large ruby, looked authentic though. A gift from her rich lover? Duncan had to hold back a disdainful chuckle at the thought.
Belle had also taken advantage of the second of silence to admire her new client. "Admire" was well adapted. He was of an indecent beauty and youth!
His build was athletic, without an ounce of visible fat. His intense blondness were evoking, for the experienced prostitute, the hot sun on his skin. His azure blue eyes ate his face. Belle thought with greed that she would love to peck his sensual lips which, relying on her long experience of men, announced themselves greedy. She was reveling in what might happen this night.
As for his appearance... This man exuded a high-class gentleman! Accustomed to men's outfits of all kinds, she had never yet seen a suit whose richness of fabric was combined with the discreet and refined elegance of the tailor-made cut.
An host of honor for me tonight! she rejoiced.
With a discreet sign, she ordered one of the waitresses to take her order: "Bring me the champagne from the Cuvée Spéciale !»
Duncan said nothing. He was watching Belle Watling's every move, trying to figure out...
No sooner had the order been given than a gleaming copper champagne bucket, topped with ice cubes, was brought to their table along with the crystal flutes. The waitresses knew how to adapt to the quality of their customers, Duncan acknowledged.
He uncorked the bottle with his expert hands and served both of them the sparkling and fresh bubbles.
"It's on the house! "A votre santé !" (To your health!), the owner of A Girl of All Seasons toasted in French.
Duncan feigned surprise. "I thank you for it. Do you treat each of your visitors to the famous French sparkling wine?"
The label indicated that it was indeed a famous French brand. Duncan's mouth had formed an ironic crease. It was not hard to understand that he was to the "lady"'s taste, hence the preferential treatment.
In a bantering tone, the Madam replied: "Only for my distinguished guests! I have no doubt that you are one of the best..." Her eyes became teasing.
A burst of laughter answered her.
"I know all the fine gentlemen in Atlanta and the surrounding area, and you are not one of them. Are you a visitor to our city? »
Duncan nodded, "A very short stay, I am afraid. I arrived this morning and leave first thing tomorrow.»
Belle was emboldened: "Your distinguished drawl leads me to believe that you live in a dignified Old South town. Is my hunch right? »
Now it is the right time! Duncan thought.
"How accurate! " he congratulated her with a smile. "Charleston. I am from Charleston.»
Just as the mention of his hometown's name had made Ashley Wilkes and little Ella cringe, Belle Watling marked her confusion. Her eyes were flickering to the back of the room.
"Ah, the honorable city of Charleston! " The woman's tone became more drawling.
Duncan asked her innocently, "Have you ever been there? »
Belle pouted, "Several times. In fact, a very old friend of mine is from that town. He invited me there.»
Duncan held his breath. Waiting for... He did not know what, actually.
Belle was conversing with the attractive young man, but her thoughts were no longer with him. They were flying towards a jet hair, a mustache wriggling on a carnivorous smile, and powerful arms quick to embrace, whose only evocation still made her shiver.
She confided in this stranger mechanically: "By the way, almost three years ago, he asked me to come and live there. You understand we are... very close." Her glance had hung on his, in a suggestive way.
She was going on: "He insisted, but at that time I did not feel ready to give up my establishment." Then, raising her head, with a more determined air: "Times have changed. I am strongly tempted to accept his proposal. In fact, I will be going there very soon.»
Duncan was shocked!
When he decided to visit the brothel owned by Rhett Butler, he was not looking for anything specific, except to understand how this despicable being could indulge in the company of whores, to the point of living openly with the madam, while publicly cuckolding his wife. The mere mention that he could impose his presence in Scarlett's bed after having copulated with these vulgar women made him want to vomit.
This talkative woman had just made him understand that, the divorce not even pronounced, the unworthy husband had decided to maintain his mistress in title in Charleston! While at the same time, Scarlett was enduring alone the shame of being a divorced woman. What a vile being!
A discordant voice insinuated itself into his mind: if Belle Watling were to move to Charleston at Rhett's expense, then he, Duncan, would have nothing to fear anymore. His infamous behavior would reach the ears of his former wife. Rhett Butler would be out of Scarlett O'Hara's world for good. And Duncan would be right there for her…
His blue eyes became so dreamy that they alerted the brothel owner. "Am I prying or are you dreaming about your Belle? Unless you want to brighten your last hours in our city among us? I have just hired this week a fresh young girl, whose blossom has barely been plucked. She will be delighted to prove to you that Atlanta's young women are the most bewitching! »
Duncan pulled a wad of cash from his wallet. As he stood up, he said, "I have no doubt about the last words. I must take my leave. Thank you for your hospitality. »
Belle got frustrated by this sudden departure. She was expecting more from this night... "May I know your name? Maybe we'll run into each other again in Charleston?"
"Duncan Vayton. My name is Duncan Vayton. »
He strongly was hoping that Rhett Butler's mistress would tell him about the Charlestonian's visit.
Scarlett O'Hara's former husband would thus become aware that his neighbor now knew his place of debauchery.
And that he could take advantage of it.
ooooOOoooo
Notes on chapter 20 :
(*1) Restaurant Thompson's, 4 Whitehall Street, Atlanta : from the mid-1860 to its selling in 1888, Robert G. Thompson's restaurant was the more refine restaurant of Atlanta. Source Culinary History of Atlanta, by Akila Sankar McConnell – source Google books, in which you can read on line the full story of the Thompson's.