That's the next chapter. We have to find out what the next morning will bring them and whether something will change between Scarlett and Rhett. And yes, I must say, Rhett will be a manipulator here to achieve what he wants. But let's not judge him too harshly, because the only thing he wants is Scarlett.
July 1866
Scarlett didn't sleep very long. Her eyes opened at 6 a.m., as she later realized by looking at the clock. Rhett was sleeping peacefully next to her, holding her close. But she couldn't lie there, thoughts of last night haunted her.
She quietly got out of bed, putting on a nightgown and a bathrobe. She went into the living room and rang the bell to order breakfast. After 20 minutes, she was already sitting at a table full of food and drinking tea.
She certainly didn't drink so much champagne to attribute all her actions to alcohol. The images of last night flashed before her eyes again. Did Rhett really like that? He had never offered her something like this before. He was always passionate, always making sure she enjoyed. Some things shocked her, the way he touched her, what he did with his hands...Holy God.
What they did last night... she should have been outraged, should have refused, and forbidden him to do it. But his every move brought so much pleasure that Scarlett was even scared. How could her body feel like this, how could his body give her such sensations?
Scarlett's conscience wouldn't let go, throbbing in the far corner of her mind. It was indecent and vulgar, everything she said and what she did. Ladies don't behave like that, if her mother had ever found out about something like that, she would have died on the spot.
But most of all, she was afraid to meet Rhett today. What would he think of her? Scarlett didn't want him to laugh at her or think that she was the same as Watling. She shifted nervously in her chair, trying to eat her breakfast.
A few minutes later, she heard sounds from the bedroom, realizing that Rhett was already awake and would be here soon, she tried to prepare for this meeting, but could not calm her nerves.
The door opened and Rhett appeared in his blue silk robe. After checking him from head to toe, Scarlett saw he wore nothing under it. She felt herself blushing.
Rhett walked over to her, sitting down at the table next to her, a satisfied smile on his lips.
"Mrs. Butler, did you decide to run away from me this morning?" His eyes were sparkling, and Scarlett could even tell that he looked happy.
"No, Rhett... I just couldn't sleep." She tried to smile and not show her nervousness, but she forgot that Rhett knew her too well and could tell exactly what she was thinking.
His smile faded, and he stiffened in his chair.
"Scarlett, what's wrong?"
She turned away. Scarlett didn't want to share her fears with him, fearing his reaction.
"Darling, what's wrong? Tell me,» She felt Rhett take her hand. She forced herself to turn around and look into his eyes. He watched her reaction carefully.
Scarlett sighed.
"It's because of last night..." She paused, looking at him.
"What about last night?" he asked patiently.
"Oh Rhett, that was so wrong..." He opened his mouth to say something, but Scarlett interrupted him. "No Rhett, please let me say..."
Rhett was still stroking her hand. There was a curious expression on his face.
"Okay, Scarlett."
Scarlett sighed.
"I don't think what happened last night was right. I shouldn't have behaved like this."
Rhett interrupted her.
"You didn't like what happened?" He was watching her closely, and Scarlett looked at him and noticed his wary gaze.
She blushed.
"I liked it very much…I... it was so vulgar. Ladies shouldn't do that. I shouldn't have done that or offered you anything. I was taught differently..."
Scarlett turned away, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment.
"Scarlett, look at me," she heard Rhett's voice. She didn't want to turn around, this conversation was already terrible.
Rhett pull her onto his lap and turn her face to him.
"You don't want us to do something like that again?" she saw his face turn into an impassive mask.
"Yes, no…I do not know Rhett," Scarlett hung her head, exhausted. She felt Rhett's hand tighten on her back. "I was taught that I have to put up with everything my husband does..."
"Okay, dear..." he spoke to her as if she were a small child, to whom he was trying to convey the right information. "Let me tell you something about marital relations. Then, you can decide if you want to continue this."
He waited patiently for her answer. Scarlett could only nod.
"What your mom and Mammy taught you… You don't think all marital relationships are like ours, do you?" Without waiting for her reply, Rhett continued. "I want to disappoint you, my innocent girl. Most Southern gentlemen don't even bother to pay attention to their wives' needs, they come in the dark and take what they need, no matter if the wife wants it or not."
Scarlett cringed at his words. She had never attached much importance to this aspect of marriage. Her upbringing consisted of how to behave in society and how to pick up a husband. What happened behind closed bedroom doors has always remained a mystery to young girls. All she knew was that sooner or later there would be children.
Of course, she heard bits of quiet talk between married ladies about the troubles they had to endure from their husbands. But it was always so allegorical that Scarlett found it difficult to understand exactly what they meant.
These few weeks spent with Rhett in New Orleans opened a new world for Scarlett. A world of pleasure in all its forms. She bought the most expensive clothes, ate the most expensive food, and received gifts of jewelry from Rhett. And of course, their nights were filled with passion.
Rhett worshipped her body and gave her pleasure in so many incredible and scandalous ways, which he no doubt learned in brothels. But she tried not to think about the latter. She never wondered if it was like that for everyone or just between them. Scarlett took it for granted. When other women's talks popped into her head, she couldn't figure out what they found so unpleasant that it made them uncomfortable.
Yes, it was all very vulgar, but certainly not unpleasant. And now, when Rhett told her that it wasn't like that for everyone, she couldn't believe it.
It must have shown on her face because he laughed at her.
"Yes, my dear, everything that you and I are doing is unworthy of Southern ladies and gentlemen, they don't do that with their wives. They prefer to indulge in animal passion in other places."
Scarlett's mouth dropped open in shock. Rhett said what they do, men only do with whores in brothels. How dare he compare her to these terrible creatures? She wanted to jump up in indignation from his lap, but he wouldn't let her do it.
"Calm down, my bird. Smooth your feathers. Yes, I meant that gentlemen prefer whores to satisfy their passion for their wives. Don't you think it's ironic? " He laughed softly.
But Scarlett did not share his joke and tried to get up from his lap again, which is why she was pressed harder against Rhett's body by his strong arms.
"But you must remember that I am not a gentleman, which means I prefer to give all my passion, my body, and all my skills for the pleasure of my beautiful wife, who apparently did not appreciate it... another irony," he sighed theatrically. But Scarlett couldn't say that he was angry; rather, it amused him.
"I don't understand why you're telling me all this, it's too indecent. We shouldn't talk about it at all," she replied indignantly.
Rhett stroked her cheek and left a gentle kiss on it, which disoriented Scarlett a little because she no longer understood what was happening at all.
"We can talk about whatever we want, Scarlett, and do whatever we want because we're husband and wife…And returning to our topic of conversation, I offer you the right to choose..."
She looked at him blankly.
"We can continue to indulge in carnal pleasures that are forbidden to even think about in the polite society of the Old South..." Scarlett rolled her eyes when she heard his choice of words, "But at the same time, you must remember, I will never become a gentleman, and you will cease to be a lady between our sheets, but this will guarantee pleasure for both you and me..." He looked at her expectantly.
"Or...?" said Scarlett stubbornly. Her Irish temper was coming to the surface, she didn't like it when someone forced her to accept his terms.
"Or we'll behave like a lady and a gentleman, which means I'll follow all the rules of decency, come to you at night, take what I'm supposed to as a husband, and you'll be patient as a lady should be..."
She tried to read him when he told her this. Any emotions might show if he was serious or joking. But, his face was unreadable, as it always was in important moments between them.
Scarlett was seething inwardly, this very conversation infuriated her, which she had hoped for when she started it. What was she trying to get out of Rhett anyway? She didn't even know anymore... She was a lady, or she always tried to be one. She was very far from Melanie or her mother, but she sincerely tried. This meant that she had to be a lady, regardless of whether someone was seeing her or whether it was happening behind closed doors.
But these two weeks... she's been enjoying this time. She was still too modest, and many of the things Rhett did to her made her feel embarrassed or even terrified. But she didn't feel any pain or discomfort. It was pure pleasure. She liked touching him, even though she didn't do it that often, she liked it when Rhett touched her. His lips, his hands, it seemed that any part of his body could give her unimaginable pleasure. Was she ready to give it up?
But then Scarlett remembered the words he had said. "Gentlemen prefer whores to satisfy their passion." Did this mean that he would return to that woman if she refused what he offered? She did not want this, when she agreed to marry him, he promised that he would not return there again. But the condition was that she should welcome him to her bed... she had already almost stated that she refused him this. Rhett wasn't the kind of person who was content with little.
He always said that she could talk to him about anything, but she couldn't guess anymore, so she decided to ask it, looking at his face.
"If I choose the latter, will you go back... to her?" She wrinkled her face in disgust. Scarlett didn't want to give her name. She knew Rhett didn't need it; he knew who she meant.
She looked him straight in the eyes, she so wanted to see something on his face... anything. His face was blank.
"You're very perceptive, Mrs. Butler... that's probably what's going to happen." He grinned slyly.
Scarlett made a face. She didn't want to even think about it. She could have been outraged, yelled at him, said what a boor he was, and how he even dared to say something like that to her. But she understood that they had a deal, no matter how rude it might sound, and now she could break it. She knew what the consequences would be.
But was it worth it? These rules and canons of behavior, which she had been so eager to follow all her adult life and which guaranteed her a place in the circle of the Old Guard of Atlanta, were they more important than the pleasure she received from her husband? Could she have put up with this messing around in the dark? And to know he was visiting a brothel to please people like Mrs. Merriweather?
Her whole being screamed to abandon this idea. She had already broken the rules when she bought a sawmill with Rhett's money when she married him.… She would be able to fight this as well if she knew that this scandalous and dissolute man who was currently holding her in his arms would be on her side. She wouldn't let any woman, be she the most adorable lady or the dirtiest whore, get her husband.
Scarlett didn't notice how long she was silent, and she also didn't notice that every thought that flashed through her head was reflected on her face. Rhett admired the range of emotions that flashed across her face. From desperation to incredible determination. When she looked up at him, he saw the same gleam he'd seen before. It was there when she came to his prison cell and when she persuaded him to buy her a sawmill. He already knew what her answer would be because her look betrayed her determination to get what she wanted this time, it was him.
She had no idea what Rhett was thinking. But, she was determined to tell him she wouldn't give up on him for a bunch of old cats in Atlanta. She blushed, realizing she had to say it out loud.
"So what have you decided, dear..." his voice betrayed his impatience.
"Rhett... I choose... the first option..." it seemed to her that she blushed even more if that was even possible.
She expected him to laugh or tease her, but he pulled her in for a hot kiss. His lips became more insistent, she felt his tongue glide lightly over her lips, and with a moan, she opened her lips to let him in. His hands slid down her thighs, lifting her robe and chemise. His lips left hers and moved to her neck, leaving a wet trail.
Scarlett gasped, unable to stop him, she tried to ask…
"Rhett, what are you doing?"
"I'm trying to prove that I'm not a gentleman..." his kisses began to descend into the neckline of her robe… until she heard a loud sound. Rhett's stomach rumbled treacherously.
Scarlett laughed, surprised at the comical situation. She pulled away from him.
"Someone needs breakfast," Rhett tried to go back to his work, but she stopped him by getting up from his lap.
"What do you think you're doing?" He protested indignantly, trying to pull her back, but Scarlett headed for the wardrobe.
"You need to have breakfast, we have a lot to do today."
"Shopping again? Sweetheart, you decided to empty my bank account," he laughed as he started his breakfast.
"Maybe, but today it will be an art gallery."
"The gallery? " He sounded surprised.
"Yes, you'll find out later. Will you help me get dressed after breakfast?" she looked out of the bedroom.
"Of course, Mrs. Butler, I'm here to fulfill any of your wishes…"
Scarlett planned to visit the gallery. This was unusual for her because she had never bought paintings or art objects, not only because she did not have the money for them during the war but also because she did not have her own home in Atlanta.
As for Tara, this house needed a huge renovation, and the paintings would be the last thing to be bought. But Ellen had great taste, and before the Yankees robbed the plantation, there were a lot of works of art on the walls. At her grandfather's house in Savannah, she admired the portraits and landscapes on the walls. She wanted her new home to be the same.
She and Rhett were talking about building a new house as soon as they returned to Atlanta, and Scarlett couldn't wait to start planning. So today they went to a local gallery to see what they could find. The gallery was a small room with several areas that were filled with paintings of various sizes.
"Scarlett, I still don't understand why you should buy something now if the house hasn't been built yet." He tried to talk her out of it all the way here, but she wouldn't even listen.
"Because we won't find anything like it in Atlanta, and you know it. And I'm sure that no matter what we buy today, it will fit the interior one way or another."
He laughed.
"You are the only person in the world who will make room for a painting and not the other way around."
Scarlet waved him off and continued to inspect the paintings. Rhett patiently followed her around, sometimes leaving comments. They bought two landscapes and a painting of white peonies on a table. After a long morning, Rhett suggested lunch at a city restaurant. The order had been placed, but Scarlett still couldn't bring herself to start a conversation.
"Darling, ask me," Rhett told her, smiling. "I can see that you've been having some thoughts in your head all morning, and I'm afraid your head might explode if you keep quiet."
Scarlett was immediately outraged that Rhett was too observant and never lost sight of what was happening to her.
"Actually, Ronald shared a very interesting story with me yesterday..." she began. "About the case that happened in Nassau."
"What exactly is the story?" Rhett looked interested.
"About the woman... that you couldn't share." Even if Scarlett was hoping to embarrass him, she couldn't, because he smiled.
"Ah, that story. And what would you like to know?" he asked politely.
"It was during the blockade, wasn't it?" she clarified.
"Yeah. I stopped doing all this shortly before the fall of Atlanta. If you remember."
She didn't know how to formulate her question correctly, any of the options seemed silly. And she shifted in her chair.
"So you were with her when you came to see me..." she finally said. It was more of a statement than a question.
Rhett wanted to answer, but the waiter brought the first courses, and he had to wait for a while.
"So that's what's bothering you..."
"It doesn't bother me, I'm curious," Scarlett interrupted.
She began to squirm under his piercing gaze and focus on her plate, but it didn't work out well.
"Okay, then to satisfy your curiosity, I'll say yes, it was when I was visiting you at Aunt Pitty's. "
It hurt her. How could he? She wanted to scream at him in the restaurant. But, she stopped, realizing how stupid it would look. At that time, he wasn't even her fiancé and had never offered her anything other than to become his mistress, so she couldn't show him anything.
"Are you jealous, my dear?" he asked cheerfully.
"I'm not jealous!" she replied louder than necessary. "It's just... at the time you came to see me, this woman was there, or maybe there were others in other places."
"Well, since you're not jealous, then I'll say that you're right." He wasn't ashamed. He grinned and enjoyed her discomfort while Scarlett puffed like a kettle.
"What about Margaret and England? Were you there before our wedding? Were you with her then too?" she decided to go on the offensive.
Scarlett hoped he would say no because she had no idea what she would do if he confirmed her suspicions.
At that moment, Rhett became serious.
"No, there was nothing with Margaret. There hasn't been a single other woman since you agreed to marry me," he replied honestly.
"Even… Watling?" she asked.
"Even her," he nodded.
Scarlett was amazed and touched at the same time. For some reason, she didn't doubt his honesty. But his next sentence ruined everything.
"But I want to point out, my dear, that at the same time you were sighing for the blond gentleman..." he quipped.
"I've never slept with him, and you know it, Rhett," she spat.
She didn't understand why he always needed to ruin everything with reminders about Ashley.
"But you stoically carried your love for him through all the hardships and struggles. For me, those women were nothing more than entertainment and an attempt to... have a good time," he sarcastically remarked.
Scarlett hoped they wouldn't mention Ashley during their honeymoon, but it seems Rhett couldn't live without it.
"Maybe so, but you knew it from the beginning. It's never been a secret to you how I feel about him, has it? I didn't know anything about your so-called friends."
"And you think that justifies you?" He looked around, they were starting to attract attention.
"Why do you always have to talk about him?" she insisted.
He was angry and didn't hide it, but at some point, his face became unreadable again, and he seemed to regain control of his emotions.
"You're right, Scarlett, it's time to end this conversation and get back to the hotel. I don't think we have anything else to do here."
And before they finished their lunch, they returned, but none of them dared to start a conversation first, and the day that started so well ended in complete failure.