Page 68 of Frankly, My Dear

“You don’t have to go with the Collins if you don’t like them. There are other planters—”

“And what if they don’t want me, James? The Collins or the other planters? Geez, I don’t believe you!”

“Be reasonable, chérie—”

“Reasonable! Just what am I to you? A piece of meat? A commodity like one of your slaves to be put up for bid?”

His head jerked up as if she’d slapped him. She’d like to. Oh, Lord, she’d like to slap the man silly. Shake some sense into his stubborn head.

“You deliberately misunderstand me. I’m only trying to do what’s best for you…for both of us.”

“That’s not the point. How dare you go behind my back and try to get rid of me? Do you hate me so much, James?” she asked on a small sob.

“No. I don’t hate you at all,” he said, groaning. “Surely you know that. Selene, even now I have work waiting for me. Piles of work. Enough work for twenty men—”

“I could help. Really, we could work together.”

He ignored her offer. “I can’t think about anything but you. You distract me.”

“Then you do care for me,” she asserted, suddenly hopeful, about to tell him of her newly discovered love.

“Lust, Selene. Pure lust. Make no mistake about that.” He raised his stubborn chin, his eyes flashing defiantly. “The drive to mate is a powerful one, and women have been using this weakness to manipulate men since the Garden of Eden.”

She inhaled sharply at his insult.

“You make me want things that can never, never, be. Two people from two different times—impossible! The only way for me to go on about my business in a rational way is to cut you out of my life.”

“You bastard!” She wiped angrily at her eyes.

“You said that before. And your coarseness is becoming redundant.” Then he seemed to look at her more closely. “Oh, Selene, don’t cry,” he said, reaching out a hand to comfort her. “Mon Dieu! I have handled this situation badly. All I’m trying to do is make things better for us both. Truly, I never meant to hurt you, chérie.”

She slapped his hand away. “Don’t…touch…me,” she said evenly. “Don’t ever touch me again. I’ll be ready to leave here on Sunday, you can be sure of that. In the meantime, I’ll do the job you hired me to do. Just stay out of my way. Do you hear me? Stay…out…of…my…way.”

She spun on her heels and started for the door.

“It’s for the best, Selene,” he called after her. “You’ll see that when you have a chance to think more clearly. We’ll talk again when you can see things more rationally. Remember, chérie. Remember what that crimson lady said—”

“Huh?” Then understanding dawned. “Not crimson, you dolt, Scarlett,” she snapped over her shoulder.

“Ah, well, then, remember what Scarlett said. Tomorrow is another day.”

Her step faltered but she didn’t turn around. “Screw you, Rhett.”

Selene had to keep a tight rein on her unraveling despair. She couldn’t break down yet. He’s getting rid of me. First she had to go to the kitchen and discuss the next day’s cleaning schedule with Blossom. The bum.

“Blossom, I want to get started early in the morning with the cleaning. About seven. Will you make sure the women are all here?” My heart is breaking and he tells me, “Tomorrow is another day.” The jerk!

“Yessum,” Blossom agreed and went on kneading bread dough, which she would set out in the spring cellar to rise through the night. Hyacinth and Lily were washing dishes in large basins.

I’ll show him. He’ll see what he’s missing. “I need to give Etienne his first lessons tomorrow morning, too. Once I get the servants working, I should be able to leave.”

“Leave?” Blossom looked up. “What’s ailin’ you, honey?”

“Nothing,” she said, barely able to speak past the lump in her throat. And I thought I loved him. Thank God I didn’t tell him.

“You look like the end of the world done come, chile. Now tell ol’ Blossom what happened.” She wiped her hands on her apron and pulled Selene down to the table, pouring her a cup of coffee.

“The Collins are coming on Sunday,” she explained and started to choke on the scorching liquid.