In the Beginning, Part 3

Here is part 3 of my story, "In the Beginning." Please tell me how you like it!

bluesneak

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Rhett visited her every day and squired her about, much as he had during the war. He immediately pointed out the inconsistency of her wearing mourning clothes for one man and an engagement ring for another. Scarlett knew the town would rock, but she reasoned that everyone disapproved of her these days, regardless of her actions.

There was her ring, to begin with. The ring Rhett brought back from England was large indeed, so large it embarrassed Scarlett to wear it. She loved gaudy and expensive jewelry but she had an uneasy feeling that everyone was saying, with perfect truth, that this ring was vulgar. The central stone was a four-carat diamond and, surrounding it, were a number or emeralds. It reached to the knuckle of her finger and gave her hand the appearance of being weighted down. Scarlett had a suspicion that Rhett had gone to great pains to have the ring made up and, for pure meanness, had ordered it made as ostentatious as possible.

Scarlett had borne with Pitty's swooning at the news and had steeled herself to see Ashley look suddenly old and avoid her eyes as he wished her happiness. She had been amused and irritated at the letters from Aunt Pauline and Aunt Eulalie in Charleston, horror-struck at the news, forbidding the marriage, telling her it would not only ruin her social position but endanger theirs. She had even laughed when Melanie with a worried pucker in her brows said loyally: "Of course, Captain Butler is much nicer than most people realize and he was so kind and clever, the way he saved Ashley. And, after all, he did fight for the Confederacy. But, Scarlett, don't you think you'd better not decide so hastily?"

***

"People make me so mad sometimes!" Scarlett fumed to Rhett the day before their wedding as they walked near Stone Mountain.

"Do they? I never noticed."

Scarlett stopped and crossed her arms. "I wish for once you'd be serious."

"All right. What's the matter?"

"People won't mind their own damn business--that's what's the matter. Everybody is in such a stew about us getting married. What business is it of theirs, anyway? Frank's been dead a year now. Why won't people just leave me alone? Even my own family--Aunt Pauline and Aunt Eulalie have been carrying on for months. You'd think that since they're your mother's best friends, they would be happy, at least. But, no! I just want to tell the whole lot of them to go to hell!"

"We've had this discussion before. Don't you remember?"

"Yes," she replied dully. She sniffed and wiped her face with the back of her hands. Rhett pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.

"I see I shall have to give you a set of handkerchiefs for a wedding present."

"Don't bother. I like yours better anyway," she said, and gave him a watery smile.

"Do you remember what I said before?" he asked, returning to their earlier conversation.

"You said that--that people always disapprove of someone who is different from everybody else and especially if that person is successful."

"Exactly, my pet. And they will hate you even more once you marry my money."

"Why, honey, I'd marry you even if you hadn't a cent to your name," she said coquettishly.

"What a liar you are! You must be punished," she said as he advanced toward her.

"How?" she asked innocently.

"Like this." He wrapped his arms around her and bent her head back and then he was kissing her as if he had the whole afternoon: slow, deep kisses that drew her into him. She snaked her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through his hair and pressed him to her until she pulled away to catch her breath.

"But why should it be wrong for me to want money and success?"

"It's not, my pet," he said as he smoothed her hair. "As I believe the saying goes, you have made your bed; now you must lie in it. Of course, should you desire company in that bed, I'm available."

"Shocking! How dare you say such a thing to me?"

"Precisely because you're shocked that you laugh at such things."

And she was laughing. "How do you do it, Rhett? How do you know I'll laugh at the things you say?"

"Because I'm the only person in the world who really knows you. I knew from the moment we met you weren't a lady."

"Are you going to bring that up again?"

"You're the one who brought it up. I should take you home, anyway. I want you to get plenty of sleep tonight."

Scarlett blushed to her hairline, but Rhett only laughed. "And this proves my point. You are obviously entertaining any number of salacious thoughts; that you trouble to blush for having them amuses me most about you. I believe your friend Mr. Wilkes first observed this--'passion for living.' "

Scarlett's eyes narrowed. She had never heard the word "salacious" but knowing Rhett, it was an insult. She wrenched herself from his arms and began walking rapidly back to his carriage. He easily caught up with her.

"I wish you would stop mentioning Ashley Wilkes," she said acidly. "We could get along perfectly well if--"

"We could get along even better than that if I knew my bride wasn't going to be spending her wedding day mentally substituting Ashley Wilkes in my place."

"What are you so upset about? It's not like you're in love with me, are you?"

"As I told you on the day I proposed, I'm not in love with you, no more than you are with me, and if I were, you would be the last person to know it."

"Just take me home!" Scarlett snapped.

"My pleasure," he replied bitingly, as he assisted her into the carriage.

The ride home was a silent one, with Scarlett digging her nails into her palms and looking to the side. Rhett sat rigidly and stared straight ahead with his jaw clenched. When they reached Pitty's house, Scarlett fairly jumped out of the carriage and hurried up the walk.

"I'll see you tomorrow, my dear," he drawled.

Scarlett did not answer him but ran up the front steps and into the house where she leaned against the door, her breast heaving with indignation.

"Why, Scarlett! Whatever is the matter? I thought Captain Butler was staying for supper," Pitty said.

"He changed his mind. I don't think I want any supper, Auntie. I'll just go to bed early."

"You must have pre-wedding jitters. It's nothing to worry about," Pitty said knowingly.

Like you know anything about that, Scarlett thought contemptuously. She smiled. "I'm sure you're right. Will you ask Mammy to come upstairs and help me get ready for bed?"

***

Scarlett tossed and turned, but sleep eluded her. Ella had begun sleeping through the night only the week before, and now the house was completely silent. Peering at the clock illuminated by the moonlight, she saw that it was after midnight. She sighed and quietly got out of bed and hunted for her bottle of brandy. But after her customary three glasses, she was still as jumpy as a cat and she knew with a sinking hear that brandy would not help her tonight.

Rhett sat in the bridal suite of the National Hotel and once again cursed himself for having lost his temper with Scarlett. All these years he had masked his feelings for her and in the course of a single afternoon, he had allowed that mask to slip. It must not happen again, of course. He had thought the most difficult thing would be getting Scarlett to agree to marry him in the first place. Now he saw that marriage to her would be harder than he thought. For how could he make love to her, lie in the same bed with her night after night, and wake up with her every morning without revealing his love for her? Sometimes he thought she cared for him. She certainly returned his kisses enthusiastically enough, but he knew all too well that desire did not necessarily equal love. There was the way she looked at him sometimes--almost breathlessly. She could be sweet and charming at times--even down to memorizing such small details as how he took his coffee and wearing the perfume he liked. Under close scrutiny, however, he admitted that she had had years of training and would most likely do the same for any man. She couldn't be trusted, and he had to remember that.

To be continued...