N/B: I can't believe that this is the last update of I, Melly! I can't think everyone enough for all the support of this story. I hope that you've enjoyed reading it; its been a joy to write! Thank you so much for all of your kindness, especially with me being a novice on this site. I value all of the feedback tremendously! That being said, I would love to hear your thoughts regarding the conclusion. Sincerely, The Scarlett Starlet

26. The Final Act

On the boat deck astern, facing the docks, the tall, slender young woman watched in fascination as the tugboats began to maneuver the large passenger liner to its moorings. From where she stood, leaning over the railing, she had a bird's eye view.

Leaning down, she whispered to the child standing beside her, "Look, Gerald. Ireland, you see it?"

At twenty, the young woman was remarkably pretty, the beneficiary of the great good looks of her parents, which written clearly upon her own features. The gossip had run rampant round the ship regarding the uncertain status of Miss Melanie Wilkes's betrothal. There were - it was said - at least three suitable candidates in the running. And why not? Despite the checkered past of her mother, thrice widowed and once divorced and now remarried to the man who had divorced her, the daughter had made her own mark upon high society, all of it positive. She had studied at the Ladies' Academy of St. Cyr, in France, taken a degree in Language Arts from Vassar College, and, in accordance to the wishes of her late father, Ashley Wilkes, she, along with her mother and stepfather, had rebuilt his grand estate at Twelve Oaks, which was only a few miles down the road from the home of her sister and her husband. But in the minds of the staid, genteel matrons who had shared passage with the Butler family, an even more extraordinary event was one that had not even involved Miss Melly herself. A mere six months after their remarriage, the Butlers, both well into middle age, had welcomed their son, a boy named Gerald. It was certainly atypical, of course, that the small boy had accompanied his parents on every sea voyage they had undertaken since infancy, and yet, to any and all observers, it was clear that the boy was the apple of his parents' eyes. Their easy affections both with the child and with one another attracted glances of admiration and understanding rather than any sort of disapproval. After all, how often did one get a chance to set right the errors of one's life?

"Melly?" a woman's voice called from behind the pair. "Melly, is your brother with you? Oh, there you are. I was worried."

"I wouldn't let him out of my sight for a moment, Mother," Melly reassured her. Scarlett hardly looked reassured, although she did look beautiful, as always, having chosen for their arrival in Ireland a silk dress of emerald green, its high collar edged with Brussels lace, the same that edged the cuffs of the long, full sleeves.

"Come along, then," she said to her daughter and small son. "We'll be hard-pressed to get off once we've docked…there'll be such a push, I'm sure."

"Now, Scarlett, I'm quite sure that we'll make it without too much trouble," her husband winked broadly at her, then gave his black bow tie one final adjustment. "Gerald, you're ready, I presume?"

"Yes sir," the five-year-old said proudly, drawing himself to his full height, then squealing with delight as his father picked him up and swung him round and round.

Melly looked upon the scene with tenderness, thinking that it would have been a terrible travesty indeed had Rhett not been blessed with the opportunity to be a father again. Gerald's birth had been like an elixir of youth for him; even though he was in his mid-sixties, he could have easily passed for a much younger man.

"What do you plan to do when we return in two weeks, Melly?" Rhett queried as they disembarked.

"Well, my friend Edelyn Carmichael's wedding is on June 7, and even though it is to be a small family affair, I've been invited to attend, so I hope I shall arrive in time to do so."

Rhett's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the word 'wedding', then shot a glance at his wife, hidden laughter in his eyes. They both knew that Melly hated such affairs, and only attended the ones which society most demanded. The Season prompted many weddings and betrothals always, and Melly, at twenty, had been under increasing scrutiny as to the matter of her own imminent engagement. He had even heard that there were bets being placed as to which of the eligible gentlemen would prove himself worthy of his daughter's hand. And that…that was just fine with Rhett.

"Well, we'll arrive in New York on April 4," Scarlett said, "that should give us plenty of time to visit with Wade and do some spring shopping, then its back to Atlanta by May."

"Do you really want to spend the entire month in New York, Mrs. Butler?" Rhett teased. "I would think that you've seen one department store, you've seen them all."

"Oh but you should see them, Rhett! They're so big, it takes days! And the restaurants, mercy, don't get me started…"

Melly took her little brother's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Don't get her started…"

Gerald looked up at his sister with a big, toothless grin as their parents shared a kiss. "I won't, Melwy."

Her heart melted like butter. They were on and on her for not getting married - but how could she go off and leave him while he was so small? Her mother liked to travel entirely too much…and they were so incandescently happy with one another, it was a pity not to give them their time alone while she watched out for Gerald.

After a quick carriage ride from the ship to the harbor, they had paused for a brief respite at a local pub, the food in which, in Melly's opinion, could not compare with Maureen and Jamie's fare in Savannah. After their meal, an omnibus was secured to drive the Butler's and several of the other wealthy tourists to Garrettstown Beach for an afternoon outing, and Gerald and the rest of the younger children could hardly contain their excitement. The little boy's energy was evident in the game of chase he was engaged in with his father while they waited at the side yard of the docks for the omnibus.

"It's here!" he shouted in his high-pitched five-year-old voice, grabbing Rhett's coat sleeve in his haste to be the first to board.

"Ladies first," Rhett reminded him gently, pulling him back as first Scarlett then Melly, then the rest of the ladies were handed. Then Gerald, being the youngest, was allowed sit directly behind the driver, which they all knew to be his most fervent desire.

"What a sight we must seem to all the locals," Melly said, laughing at her brother, who was veritably hanging out of the window. "Especially him…"

"Do be careful with him, Rhett," Scarlett urged her husband. "Hold onto him so that he doesn't fall."

"He won't," Rhett said, showing her that he had a grip on Gerald's jacket. "See? I have a good hold on him."

Arriving at the beach, Melly and several of the other young ladies hastily changed into their bathing costumes of dark flannel, which covered them from ankle to wrist. Throwing off her overcoat and caution to the wind, Melly grabbed Gerald's small hand and rolled up the legs of her costume, kicked off her slippers and danced among the ebbing waves.

"This is much better than the beaches at home!" Gerald declared loudly. "I like Ireland!"

"I like it too," Melly agreed. "Come on with you, little man. Mother will be mad if we linger overlong."

"Daddy won't care," Gerald said stubbornly. "Don't wanna go yet."

Melly rolled her eyes. She would not expect any less from Rhett; he had spoiled Gerald hopelessly from the day he was born. Of course, she couldn't blame him for it, after all, Gerald's birth had been nothing short of miraculous. But the look of horror on her mother's face told a different story of expectations for them.

"Come back here!" Scarlett called, her voice carrying over the roar of the surf and the wind. "You'll both catch a chill."

Laughing merrily, Melly and her brother cavorted down the beach towards their parents, admiring the seagulls as they swooped down just over their heads.

"Let's build a sand castle!" Gerald asked hopefully.

Rhett shook his head. "We don't have enough time, son. I'm afraid our tour is scheduled very precisely. The Ballymaloe House Hotel is our destination for tonight. Then first thing, we have to take the train to County Meath so we can satisfy your mother's pilgrimage."

"Fiddle-dee-dee. You're curious about the first Tara, too, aren't you?"

She looked first at Rhett for reassurance, then Melly, then down at little Gerald, who shrugged.

"Will there be food?" he looked up at his mother hopefully.

Rhett laughed as he picked the boy up and kissed him on the forehead. "Plenty, Gerald. Plenty."

Scarlett rolled her eyes as Rhett and Gerald hurried ahead of them, playing a short game of King of the Hill, having found sticks for swords. She noted that Melly had fallen silent, her eyes downcast.

"What is it, darling? Are you feeling alright?"

"Quite well, Mother, I was simply wondering how great a distance it would be from County Meath to County Down…"

Scarlett's lips thinned slightly. "You don't mean to tell me, Melanie Wilkes, that you've still been thinking about that Sean boy all of these years…why, no wonder you haven't accepted any of the marriage proposals that have been set before you!"

"I've thought them over thoroughly, Mother, you needn't worry." Melly defended herself. "But it did occur to me that while my feet were resting upon the same continent, it might be nice to at least say hello. Of course, the odds of seeing him are slim, I'd say… After all, I'm not even sure that he returned to the city of his birth after he left."

"So what you're telling me is that it could all be a wild goose chase?"

"Precisely," Melly said, though she had a peculiar sparkle in her eyes.

"What's all this?" Rhett inquired, rejoining them, Gerald at his side.

"Melly wants to go to County Down instead of with us to County Meath."

"County Down, well, that's North, isn't it?" Rhett's brow furrowed. "I suppose we could take the train there, then to Wexford, then Meath to end it all. Newry's the big city up that way, if I'm not mistaken."

"Newry!" Melly cried triumphantly. "That's it, that's the city. Its large, you say?"

Rhett shrugged. "Fifteen thousand people or so. Good sized port."

"Oh dear, I'll never find him," Melly sighed.

"Well, you are certainly welcome to look for him. Your mother and I will content ourselves with walking about the cathedrals…"

"Cathedrals?" Scarlett and Gerald said at the same time with equal amounts of revulsion in their voices.

Rhett smiled, winking at Melly before he addressed Gerald. "Cathedrals. And if you're lucky, we'll even feed you…"

After they had arrived the following day, they went to Mass at Saint Patrick's Cathedral. Melly had to stifle back giggles as little Gerald hopped from one foot to the other, eager to go on to the fishing trip his father had promised him.

"Whoa there, slow down, Gerald," Rhett whispered during the Consecration. "We still have to change clothes and grab the picnic basket back at the hotel. Then we'll be off and let Melly find her beau."

"What's a beau?" Gerald inquired.

"A young man," Scarlett whispered furtively, then shushed her son.

Laughing at the enthusiasm of her little brother, Melly patted his dark, curly head, then bounded down the steps of St. Patrick's as soon as the Mass was concluded. Though it seemed like hours, it was not long before Rhett and Gerald were loading onto a hired rig to convey them to the north end of the County for an afternoon of fishing, leaving Melly and Scarlett to conduct their search.

The churches, she presumed, were the best places to begin looking. Not that Sean struck her as particularly devout, but he had mentioned one that he had attended…

"Oh good Lord," Scarlett said as they disembarked from the coach outside of the Church of the Immaculate Conception, "It's raining already, we'll be soaked before we even get started."

"Nonsense," Melly replied, "this is barely a drizzle."

Even at such an early hour, the town was bustling with activity. Throngs of peddlers were plying their wares in the streets, the church bells were ringing the hour, and there had formed a line of curious ladies who had wanted to catch a glimpse of the two fashionably dressed American women.

Melly looked at her mother, who was frowning up at the grey sky. It was too bad that the nice weather they'd enjoyed at the beach hadn't lasted for their trip to the northern coast. She'd be sorry, indeed, if it had all been for naught. Still, something drove her forward, urging her to continue. At least the sky didn't look too dark, yet.

She heard her mother grumble, her litany of complaints so familiar she barely noticed it. But she was a little perplexed over her Rhett's good mood this morning before he and Gerald had left for their trip. He'd been so positive, so accommodating…did he know something that she did not? She wouldn't doubt it; he seemed to know everything there was to know about everything. She stifled a yawn, realizing that she hadn't gotten much rest the previous night with the trip on her mind - and the inevitable end to it. She would satisfy her own curiosity, if she even had a chance to see him at all, then they would return home and she would be forced to accept her predetermined matrimonial fate…all that was left was to decide which of the three candidates was less repugnant than the other.

She was at least glad that her Mother and Rhett had agreed to long spring voyage before she had to make such a decision. She had to try, at least try…and they were willing to allow her that chance. She had, after all, afforded them the same courtesy.

Her mother had said to her, You've got an entire ocean to cross before a decision has to be reached…if you want to make it at all…But Melly knew that the decision had to be made. After all, she was a female, an heiress in her own right. She was Melly Wilkes of Twelve Oaks. Marriage was the logical next step…if only she could discern which of her suitors were more in love with her than her fortune. Mason Kershaw had been case in point, and when he had finally established himself as a wealthy entrepreneur and come calling, Melly had (wisely, in her opinion) refused to see him; after all, he had proven himself another man completely than the one she had fallen in love with at the tender age of fifteen. Mason had married, of course, to an heiress from New York, and had apparently done right well for himself. That was all well and good, Melly thought, but just the same, she felt sure that she had made the right decision.

Still staring at the street vendors, she was close to giving up on finding Sean McGinnis, when her mother called her name from atop the church steps where she had been speaking with an elderly priest.

She hoped for a second that perhaps the priest knew him, perhaps he would say that yes, he was a regular parishioner, and lived just down the corner…but then she began to shake at the thought of seeing him again after five long years…

But her mother was shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Melly, but Father Flanagan here says that there haven't been any McGinnis's in Newry for quite some time."

"Sure and there's not been. I make it me point to know every youngster that's here for Mass on Sunday. There's no Sean McGinnis here, I'm tellin' you, lass. Best be checkin' in another parish."

"But he told me that he sang here!" Melly cried, "in the Church of the Immaculate Conception. All his life he said…"

"And you're certain his name was McGinnis?" The priest inquired, his brows furrowed. "I only know of one Sean and he's…well…surely not! Well, if you'd want to be seein' if he's the one, you'd have to walk back over to Queen Street. Nice part o' town. I take it you're stayin' at the Cranfield, am I right?"

At their nods, he continued. "The address is 12 Queen Street, and ask the man at the door to see His Lordship's second son. He'd be able to assist you, ma'am…"

Melly almost had to be dragged into the large townhouse, awed as she was by both the size and the scope of the place. Sean had obviously done well for himself, securing an appointment to a great Lord. Perhaps he was his personal musician? That would hardly seem interesting for someone so free-spirited as Sean, to be held captive to the whims of a patron. But clearly, by contrast to the rampant poverty she had witnessed throughout their tour of Ireland, the Lord who employed him was exceedingly rich, and Sean would have had to been a fool not to accept whatever situation was offered. Her mother, Melly noticed, was looking without much reaction at the antique paintings on the walls, which had to be centuries old. There were huge crystal chandeliers and muted wall coverings which perfectly accented the fine art that adorned them. Nothing was glittering and gaudy like the fancy French décor her mother had preferred as of late.

She'd met a British nobleman before, at a ball in Charleston - this one an affable, middle-aged Duke with more money than sense, so she'd felt no pressure to observe stringent protocol that was followed so carefully on the continent. She smoothed her hair quickly, taking a seat in the parlor where the butler had left them.

"I'm sure he thinks that we're crazy," Scarlett muttered aloud, "…asking for their hired help."

"Hush, Mother," Melly implored. "We mustn't act like complete Americans…"

"We are Americans -" Scarlett reminded her daughter, but she didn't get to finish her remark, as Melly stood up suddenly at the sound of someone walking through the parlor door.

With a laugh of delight, Melly leapt toward the door and was engulfed in a bear hug that she returned wholeheartedly. So many years had passed since she had seen him, at least the only man she had called a true friend, the man who had loved her, wholeheartedly, for herself, that such a wealth of emotion filled her, almost bringing tears to her eyes.

"Sure and I didn't believe Fitzsimmons," Sean said with a laugh. "A young lady, he says, a Miss Melly Wilkes. You actually here? 'Tis a liar I called him. I even got angry that he was gettin' me hopes up."

"Melly did too," Scarlett put in, then extended her hand. "I'm Melly's mother, Mrs. Butler. I assume that you are the mysterious Sean McGinnis we've heard so much about?"

Sean nodded. "I am. But might I ask, how was it that you both found me? I wasn't aware that anyone knew -"

He was cut off by the butler, who had returned with a silver tray filled with delicacies.

"My Lord, shall you and the young lady and the Madam require anything else?"

"No, thank you," Sean shook his head, dismissing the man, and then laughing throatily at Melly's stunned face.

"McGinnis is me mother's name. I couldn'ta made me way in music if I wasn't what the rest of the lads were, good solid Irish. It's sorry I am that I misled you, but it all was true, what I told you in the pub, 'bout me Da bein' an English soldier married to an Irish girl."

Melly shook her head, "you said that your father was a -"

"Barrister? Aye, so he is now. And away at present. You see, he's Baron of Killowen. And Lord Chief Justice of England…but he did make me work in the dairy for me passage. Just as I said. I made me own way there…"

"But - why?" Scarlett looked befuddled.

"Well, ma'am, 'tis easy enough to want to shirk ones duties, bein' the second born and all…and I must confess I had a bit of a talent for music, so I wanted to see…'twas not but vanity, so it was. But now, unfortunately, me older brother died this Christmas past, me mother several years before. That was why I left…that and I assumed…"

His voice trailed off and Melly understood what he meant; he had assumed that she did not return his sentiments of love, and he had not told her that he was as wealthy or wealthier than she because he had hoped that she would have fallen in love with him for himself, as he had with her. And she, in her blindness, had not seen him for anything but a poor Irish lad with a crush on an unattainable American far above his station.

"I can't blame you for drawing that conclusion," Melly said finally. "I'm sorry for it."

"Atch, Melly, 'tis no need to apologize."

"Yes there is." She couldn't take her eyes off of him, his expression inscrutable as he returned her gaze.

She began carefully. "I read your letter too late. I understood it all too late. But I've carried it with me for five years, thinking that somehow, somewhere, if it was meant to be, our paths would cross. But I understand fully if your feelings have changed, or if you are otherwise…committed."

"Not…yet."

Her throat constricted at that reply. There was no help for it. She couldn't stand the thought of coming all this way without saying what she had to say, but she had hoped for better than that!

"I understand," she said softly, glancing at her mother, who looked downright angry at the way the conversation was turning.

"Well you haven't been exactly forthright with Melly either," Scarlett snapped, "She's been in London twice since you left, surely you could have written her, surely you could have made an effort!"

"Mother-"

"No, your mother is right, Miss Melly. I apologized for that, to your Da, when I saw him last night."

Melly tried to mask her surprise. "Rhett? You came to see him last night?" And why didn't he ask to see her? For that matter, why didn't Rhett mention that?

"I heard that you'd come to Newry. And I thought…well, I'd hoped…I thought that I'd reassure him that he'd not need to worry about you while you were here…if, of course, I could prevail upon you to stay."

"That was very thoughtful of you," Scarlett said sarcastically, still feeling slighted that her husband had kept something from her.

"It worked," Melly said, emotion welling up inside her again, "He was in very good spirits this morning."

"Well, 'tis nothin' to cry over!" he teased.

Melly wiped her eyes. "Would you ask me, please?"

His hand touched her cheek. "Miss Melly, would you do me the honor of allowing me to court you properly?" He then looked at Scarlett, "With your Mother's permission, naturally."

She couldn't believe that he was saying it, and so tenderly. She had such an urge to laugh, to shout for joy, to jump up and down in giddy delight. She guessed that the feeling was mutual. But she nodded in her consent, then blushed a little. "Don't be surprised when I tell you I've been waiting for you to say that for five years. And not just because of all of this. I came here thinking that you were just -"

"A poor Irish peasant?" he grinned again, reminding her of her hurried assumption at their first meeting in the pub.

"I didn't care though. I only wanted to clap eyes on you again, to tell you how much that I…I missed you, so very much."

"And I you, Miss Melly…and I you…"

. . . .

Rhett Butler's new suit had been delivered the day before and fit him like a glove. It was an hour or so before his daughter's wedding, and he admired himself as best he could in the bureau mirror in his hotel room, turning first this way, then that way, trying to get a full look. For sixty-seven, he thought to himself, he didn't look half bad.

"You look very handsome, Captain Butler," his wife said as she leaned against the doorway admiringly.

"And you do as well, Mrs. Butler. Our daughter won't thank you for that, outshining her on her own wedding day."

"Fiddle-dee-dee. You should see her, Rhett, she's the most beautiful thing…I do wish Ashley could have seen her this day."

"I am quite sure that he sees," Rhett said, giving his wife a quick kiss and a squeeze as they left the room together. "Yes, I am quite sure that he is pleased."

Saint Patrick's Cathedral was already almost filled to capacity by the time the bride's parents arrived, having waited until the utmost last moment to dress so they would not have to chance wrinkles in the lingering, oppressive summer heat. The soft organ music combined with the pleasant fragrance of bridal flowers, which decorated the pews and alter, set the scene for the march down the aisle of the bride and her attendants.

As the organist began the wedding march, Father Flanagan took his place at the alter and the wedding party started down the aisle, beginning first with the mother of the bride, escorted by her six-year-old son, who had accepted his duty as ring bearer with utmost seriousness, then the bride's sister, the matron of honor, then the groom's sisters, all donning dresses of identical gold hues. The groom, Sean Patrick of Killowen and his supporters, including the bride's brother, Wade Hampton Hamilton, were awaiting up front, stylish in black frock coats, high cut waistcoats and gold sashes.

The entire assembly stood as the bride, Melanie Robillard Wilkes, walked in on the arm of her stepfather, Captain Rhett Butler. Her dress was flowing ivory satin, a princess-shaped gown with bits of silvery thread woven through.

"You do take my breath away, Melly," Rhett whispered as they made the walk.

"I may do something rebellious," she whispered back, "listen closely…"

A sigh of collective awe at her extraordinary beauty resounded through the room as she floated down the aisle toward her beloved. As Rhett handed her over to her groom, the look upon their faces was a joy for all to behold.

Rhett and Scarlett took their places in the front aisle, Gerald in between them until his appointed moment.

The prayers were soon said, then the vows. Melly turned toward her parents, then her groom, her eyes twinkling with mirth as her moment for response came.

"I, Melanie," the priest began.

Melly caught her mother's eye and winked, then responded.

"I, Melly…"