Gone with the Wind. Volume 2 / Унесенные ветром. Том 2. Маргарет Митчелл

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      When he had closed the door behind them, Rhett came to her swiftly and bent over her. Knowing his desire, she turned her head quickly but smiled provocatively at him out of the corners of her eyes.

      “Can't I really kiss you now?”

      “On the forehead, like a good brother,” she answered demurely.

      “Thank you, no. I prefer to wait and hope for better things.” His eyes sought her lips and lingered there a moment. “But how good of you to come to see me, Scarlett! You are the first respectable citizen who has called on me since my incarceration, and being in jail makes one appreciate friends. When did you come to town?”

      “Yesterday afternoon.”

      “And you came out this morning? Why, my dear, you are more than good.” He smiled down at her with the first expression of honest pleasure she had ever seen on his face. Scarlett smiled inwardly with excitement and ducked her head as if embarrassed.

      “Of course, I came out right away. Aunt Pitty told me about you last night and I–I just couldn't sleep all night for thinking how awful it was. Rhett, I'm so distressed!”

      “Why, Scarlett!”

      His voice was soft but there was a vibrant note in it, and looking up into his dark face she saw in it none of the skepticism, the jeering humor she knew so well. Before his direct gaze her eyes fell again in real confusion. Things were going even better than she hoped.

      “It's worth being in jail to see you again and to hear you say things like that. I really couldn't believe my ears when they brought me your name. You see, I never expected you to forgive me for my patriotic conduct that night on the road near Rough and Ready. But I take it that this call means you have forgiven me?”

      She could feel swift anger stir, even at this late date, as she thought of that night but she subdued it and tossed her head until the earrings danced.

      “No, I haven't forgiven you,” she said and pouted.

      “Another hope crushed. And after I offered up myself for my country and fought barefooted in the snow at Franklin and got the finest case of dysentery you ever heard of for my pains!”

      “I don't want to hear about your-pains,” she said, still pouting but smiling at him from up-tilted eyes. “I still think you were hateful that night and I never expect to forgive you. Leaving me alone like that when anything might have happened to me!”

      “But nothing did happen to you. So, you see, my confidence in you was justified. I knew you'd get home safely and God help any Yankee who got in your way!”

      “Rhett, why on earth did you do such a silly thing-enlisting at the last minute when you knew we were going to get licked? And after all you'd said about idiots who went out and got shot!”

      “Scarlett, spare me! I am always overcome with shame when I think about it.”

      “Well, I'm glad to learn you are ashamed of the way you treated me.”

      “You misunderstand. I regret to say that my conscience has not troubled me at all about deserting you. But as for enlisting-when I think of joining the army in varnished boots and a white linen suit and armed with only a pair of dueling pistols- And those long cold miles in the snow after my boots wore out and I had no overcoat and nothing to eat… I cannot understand why I did not desert. It was all the purest insanity. But it's in one's blood. Southerners can never resist a losing cause. But never mind my reasons. It's enough that I'm forgiven.”

      “You're not. I think you're a hound.” But she caressed the last word until it might have been “darling.”

      “Don't fib. You've forgiven me. Young ladies don't dare Yankee sentries to see a prisoner, just for charity's sweet sake, and come all dressed up in velvet and feathers and seal muffs too. Scarlett, how pretty you look! Thank God, you aren't in rags or mourning! I get so sick of women in dowdy old clothes and perpetual crepe. You look like the Rue de la Paix. Turn around, my dear, and let me look at you.”

      So he had noticed the dress. Of course, he would notice such things, being Rhett. She laughed in soft excitement and spun about on her toes, her arms extended, her hoops tilting up to show her lace trimmed pantalets. His black eyes took her in from bonnet to heels in a glance that missed nothing, that old impudent unclothing glance which always gave her goose bumps.

      “You look very prosperous and very, very tidy. And almost good enough to eat. If it wasn't for the Yankees outside-but you are quite safe, my dear. Sit down. I won't take advantage of you as I did the last time I saw you.” He rubbed his cheek with pseudo ruefulness. “Honestly, Scarlett, don't you think you were a bit selfish that night? Think of all I had done for you, risked my life-stolen a horse-and such a horse! Rushed to the defense of Our Glorious Cause! And what did I get for my pains? Some hard words and a very hard slap in the face.”

      She sat down. The conversation was not going in quite the direction she hoped. He had seemed so nice when he first saw her, so genuinely glad she had come. He had almost seemed like a human being and not the perverse wretch she knew so well.

      “Must you always get something for your pains?”

      “Why, of course! I am a monster of selfishness, as you ought to know. I always expect payment for anything I give.”

      That sent a slight chill through her but she rallied and jingled her earbobs again.

      “Oh, you really aren't so bad, Rhett. You just like to show off.”

      “My word, but you have changed!” he said and laughed. “What has made a Christian of you? I have kept up with you through Miss Pittypat but she gave me no intimation that you had developed womanly sweetness. Tell me more about yourself, Scarlett. What have you been doing since I last saw you?”

      The old irritation and antagonism which he roused in her was hot in her heart and she yearned to speak tart words. But she smiled instead and the dimple crept into her cheek. He had drawn a chair close beside hers and she leaned over and put a gentle hand on his arm, in an unconscious manner.

      “Oh, I've been doing nicely, thank you, and everything at Tara is fine now. Of course, we had a dreadful time right after Sherman went through but, after all, he didn't burn the house and the darkies saved most of the livestock by driving it into the swamp. And we cleared a fair crop this last fall, twenty bales. Of course, that's practically nothing compared with what Tara can do but we haven't many field hands. Pa says, of course, we'll do better next year. But, Rhett, it's so dull in the country now! Imagine, there aren't any balls or barbecues and the only thing people talk about is hard times! Goodness, I get sick of it! Finally last week I got too bored to stand it any longer, so Pa said I must take a trip and have a good time. So I came up here to get me some frocks made and then I'm going over to Charleston to visit my aunt. It'll be lovely to go to balls again.”

      There, she thought with pride, I delivered that with just the right airy way! Not too rich but certainly not poor.

      “You look beautiful in ball dresses, my dear, and you know it too, worse luck! I suppose the real reason you are going visiting is that you have run through the County swains and are seeking fresh ones in fields afar.”

      Scarlett had a thankful thought that Rhett had spent the last several months abroad and had only recently come back to Atlanta. Otherwise, he would never have made so ridiculous a statement. She thought briefly of the County swains, the ragged embittered little Fontaines, the poverty-stricken Munroe boys, the Jonesboro СКАЧАТЬ