Charleston, South Carolina

May 1874

Rhett sat in his leather chair, sipping a snifter of brandy, not really paying attention as the amber liquid rolled over his tongue and down his throat. He stared at the letter that was currently laid on his desk in front of him, having started to read it but deciding a drink was in order first once he saw its contents.

He had thought at first that Scarlett had been devious and had his step-son address the envelope. She would know that Rhett would open it thinking it was from Wade himself, only to find it was from Scarlett. But when he opened it, the handwriting very obviously belonged to the boy, and he had dropped the letter on his desktop as if burned upon that realization. That was over two hours ago.

Rhett did not consider himself a coward, yellow, or afraid of anything. He had the stories, bank account, and scars to prove he wasn't. Still, he found himself afraid of just what Wade had to say to him.

Surely even Scarlett would not stoop so low as to tug on Rhett's heartstrings regarding his step-children and have them aid her in yet another ploy to get him to return to Atlanta sooner than he'd committed to. He had been there just two months ago and had been a dutiful husband on that visit, holding true to his promise to keep up appearances for Scarlett's sake. He understood her not wanting to get a divorce, but he was growing tired of her thinking up excuses in an attempt to make him stay longer than the few days at a time that he agreed to. (He still wasn't sure why he'd even committed to that!)

They lived as virtual strangers in that atrocity of a house Scarlett had created for them five years ago now. He only had himself to blame for the condition of the house. He should have put his foot down, but he'd been unable to begrudge her anything.

The door joining their bedrooms had remained locked from his side for the first time ever during his visits. They did not share meals together, and Rhett avoided her at all costs, which perhaps was not fair to her. He had asked Mammy in confidence to make up a guest bedroom for him to stay in on his last visit, not wanting to stay anywhere near Scarlett. It wasn't because he hated her. He wished it was. He was, honestly, not sure he would be able to resist if she were to come onto him physically. And he wouldn't put it past her to try to do that.

He looked out of his office window. He had returned to Charleston, hoping to find some peace, as well as make peace.

Peace was not to be found between him and his father, it seemed. He had hoped that having finally "settled down" and had a child that his father would talk to him. He'd been wrong. The O'Hara's weren't a well-to-do family by Charleston means, but the Robillard's were respected. He'd presumed his father would cave. He should have known better, he supposed. The man was more stubborn than the most difficult mule.

He and his mother had been getting along, but he sensed she did not approve of his separation from Scarlett. Not that he had told her specifically they were separated, but it did not take a genius to figure out that the current arrangement screamed of being exactly that.

He drummed on his desktop, noting the difference in sound. Some fingers hit the bare top of his cherry wood desk while others hit the parchment of Wade's letter cushioning the sound. Scarlett had not waffled over the past six months from her declaration that she no longer loved Ashley. Of course, that was not overly surprising to Rhett. He had known all along she had not loved Ashley Wilkes. So his problem was not with that.

No, his problem was how did Rhett know that Scarlett had not replaced him with Ashley? He honestly did not know how to tell because he was too close and emotionally involved to the situation. He loved her, damn it. Something he swore he'd never succumb to. If he knew for sure that her claims of loving him were heartfelt and genuine, he might reconsider his decision to end their marriage. He doubted he would ever know, which was the reason for their separation.

He thought over the years, twelve of them in total now, trying to decipher if there was ever any evidence that she loved him. There were times he thought she did, that she might. He thought for years that she did, and that if he could get her over her infatuation with Ashley that they would be happy. (Which was what led to him owning a house he loathed and a plantation that would never be truly his no matter how much money he spent on it.) That never came or, at least, not until it was too late. By the time it had come, too much water had passed under the bridge, preventing him from giving his love to her as freely as he thought he would have been able to years ago.

At least outwardly. He'd tried a couple of times to be with someone else. He always stopped short of making the outing more than acquaintances sharing a meal before returning her home both times. In the back of his mind was the realization that if he cheated now and she found out, she'd never forgive him. How and why she would want to forgive him for his behavior after she'd barred him from sharing their marital bed was not something he thought too hard on, because that would lead him down a path he didn't think he should go down. Until they'd decided, together, to end their marriage, he was a married man and had to behave like one. He hadn't come to Charleston to get the reputation of being an adulterer on top of everything else.

Not wanting to think about Scarlett anymore, or what could have been (could still be?), he decided now was the time to read Wade's letter. He took one last sip of his brandy before setting the glass down and picking up the letter.

Dear Rhett,

I hope you're not angry at me for writing and, if you are, please take it out on me, not Mother. She doesn't even know I have your address, but I begged Mammy to find it for me.

I know that something has happened between you and Mother to cause you to be gone so much. I've listened at her door enough when she's crying to know that it has something to do with Uncle Ashley. She acts all right when you're here, but when you leave she doesn't eat or  sleep, and she gets so angry all of the time. For things she never used to get angry about.

Yesterday, she spent the entire afternoon at the stable talking to God, I guess, about you and Bonnie. I didn't get close enough to hear, but I know she misses you both a lot. I know there's no way Bonnie can come back, but is there any way you might be able to come back to Atlanta?

You are the only father I've ever known and, even when I wasn't living with you, you were always there. I've come to depend on you. Sometimes there are things a boy needs to talk to a man about, not his mother. And Uncle Ashley just isn't the same as you. You told me once that I was your son, but you're not acting like it right now. I've already lost one father, I never thought I'd lose you, too.

Please think about coming home to us. I know you and Mother can make up. Ella and I both promise to behave and do whatever we can so that you and Mother can work things out.

Love,

Wade Hampton Hamilton

Rhett set the letter down and reached for a bottle of whisky, pouring it right into the brandy snifter. He did not care if it was or was not the appropriate glass. He was glad there was no more to the letter, because he could not have taken much more of it.

Rhett had to give Wade credit; he knew just what to say, and how to say it, to get Rhett's attention. If he was trying to make Rhett feel guilty and like a heel, he had done a damned fine job of it. He suspected Wade's opening of the letter was true, that he was writing without Scarlett's knowledge.

He would like to believe she was behind this, that she had forced her son to write such a letter. Scarlett was a lot of things, but she wouldn't put her child through the emotional upheaval of writing the things contained in the letter. Not to mention her pitting Wade Hampton in the middle, make him feel as if he had to choose a side between Rhett and Scarlett was out of character.

Ten to one, Rhett would win such a contest. Scarlett knew this to be true, the same as Rhett did for the very reason he stated in the letter.

The boy wanted a father.

Badly.

He could understand Wade's want for a father; Rhett admittedly had wanted one, too. It was, ultimately, what drew him back to Charleston. There had been many times throughout his life, both as a child and an adult, that he would have loved to have his father as a confidante. Lawyers were great for talking to and keeping things legal, even if it was slimly so. Sometimes, though, it would have been nice to speak with the man responsible for making Rhett into what he was about things. He could not help but wonder just what might have happened with Scarlett if things between Rhett and his father had been different.

Then, Rhett wouldn't have met Scarlett if things were different with his father. Maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad thing either. His heart had never been so heavy because of a woman - or anything - until now. He could do without that experience.

Bonnie was supposed to be his … penance. For his own sins and those of his father.

He stood from the desk, snifter in hand, and walked to the window. It was open, bringing a light early summer breeze into the room, and, with it, the fragrant smell of the Butler household's gardens. He paid no attention to these simple things he had once loved and grown to appreciate once more since returning to Charleston months ago.

One thing life with Scarlett had stopped him from doing was enjoying the little things, everything always had to be complicated and difficult. And a spectacle. Not that it was always her doing that they turned out that way he realized. The war was responsible for a lot. And he was to blame some of the time, too. Of course his life had been complex and difficult, not to mention rife with scandal, before he had ever met Scarlett O'Hara at Twelve Oaks that April day before the war.

Why did Wade have to write to him now?

Rhett was just getting to the point where he doubted himself when it came to his decision about his wife and marriage. It was as if the boy knew that he was second guessing this forced separation from her.

From everything Rhett had heard from Atlanta, Scarlett had been behaving herself. One of his contacts was Henry Hamilton, so he was fairly assured his information was accurate. She and Ashley had not been alone together since Melanie's death. In fact, he had heard that, other than to take Beau off his hands for a day or two, Scarlett rarely even visited Ashley at his home.

What really frightened Rhett was that he would return, and Scarlett would tell him it was a cruel joke. Even worse, though, would be after a month or two, or a year or two for that matter, that she discovered that she, like Ashley, never loved Rhett. He did not believe that was the case, but that did not mean Scarlett would not convince herself of it, just as she had convinced herself for years that Melanie was the only thing standing in the way of her happily ever after fairy tale ending with Ashley Wilkes.

He thought about talking to his mother, but knew exactly what Eleanor Butler would say.

She would tell him to go to his wife, that it was his duty to try and make it work. That if Scarlett was willing to look past his past and do some of the footwork, it was up to Rhett to give her the chance to prove her sincerity.

Unfortunately, Rhett was not sure how much more of Scarlett his heart could take. From the night of Ashley's birthday party three years ago, he had been walking a tightrope where his heart was concerned. He was afraid it would snap and he would topple over, with no safety net below to catch him when he fell.

And he would fall hard if he fell.

There was another side to the coin as well.

And that was, simply, he was not sure what he would do if he found out down the road that she really did love him, and he let her - and the happiness she represented - slip through his fingertips. It would be the ultimate justice perhaps, a final twist of the knife to his heart that he had worked so hard at hardening over the years.

He had once upon a time thought he had done a fine job of hardening it, until he met and become fascinated with Scarlett O'Hara anyway. Until her, he had presumed love and happiness would forever elude him.

And her children, Rhett could not help but think of them.

Though the love was there prior to them. He wasn't sure when it happened, but he knew it had come before Wade was in the picture. Well, maybe shortly after. It was hard to place, since this was the only time he'd felt such emotions.

Did Wade and Ella really think that his leaving had anything to do with them? He was surprised when he felt moisture in his eyes as this thought occurred to him.

No, Wade and Ella were not Bonnie, but he had never done anything to make them believe he loved them any less. His hands were somewhat tied in that their fathers were both well known and respected. Wade's had died in the war, even if he'd never seen any actual combat.

Wade obviously remembered the conversation Rhett had with him the day that Bonnie was born. Those kind brown eyes were almost Rhett's undoing when he spoke of having another boy. It was the closest Rhett had ever come to … admitting things that had been secreted away for years. Wade was a sensitive boy, both seeing and knowing more than he should have for his age since Rhett could remember.

What had stopped him from confessing his secret the day Bonnie was born? The look in those eyes of Wade. He didn't want Rhett to have another boy. So, he'd let the boy hope that what he knew deep down was wrong.

They'd never talked about it again either.

Of course, he had left them when he left Scarlett. Rhett was the only father either child had ever known, and he hated when they called him Uncle Rhett. He wasn't their father, though, so he'd had to leave them with their mother.

Wade had not indicated Scarlett was mistreating them, but he did imply that she was not functioning as she should be. Did her children need to see her destroy herself and, in the process, destroy their already fragile lives? Their innocence. No doubt they were already at a disadvantage being scarred losing their fathers and having to grow up during a war and its aftermath.

Despite Wade's age, he was twelve now, he was still so fragile and afraid. Rhett had never been exactly sure what the boy was afraid of, but realized as he actually began to cry for the first time in years, without cause or reason to, that he had made the boy's fears real by leaving them as he had.

And Ella was still just a little girl really at seven, one that Rhett could spoil as he had wanted to Scarlett and Bonnie. Perhaps that was the way Rhett could find out if Scarlett's declarations of love were sincere and life lasting, through her children. If she loved him as she claimed to, surely she would not begrudge him showering them with the paternal attention they deserved. And craved.

He could offer to adopt them and get rid of that stupid endearment of Uncle Rhett once and for all. Would she go for that, he wondered? If she really wanted him in her life, one would think she would welcome that he was making his presence in the lives of her and her children permanent by taking them as his. Perhaps it was worth a try. It was either that or live miserably as he had been the months since he left Atlanta.

The life of a wanderer and cad just didn't hold the appeal it once did. It was how he found himself in Charleston after leaving Atlanta instead of, well, anywhere else in the world he could have gone.

He had enjoyed his time in Charleston, had enjoyed getting close to his mother again, but that was not what he ultimately craved. Strange how he never wanted to get married, never wanted to be tied down to one woman or one town, but now that he was away from his wife, he really had no desire to return to that way of life. He could have taken a boat, he owned several, and gone anywhere in the world.

He liked being married, when they were good to one another. He liked having a home to return to, and children in that home. His parents' house was nice, but it was always so quiet. Even when he had been a child, it had been quiet. He had never been allowed to act as a child would. Or should.

The realization that his leaving was making Scarlett's children believe they had to act that way, as if even their footsteps being too loud across the floor could cause her to scold them, made him come to a decision.

*****

Two weeks later, Rhett found himself getting off a train in Atlanta. He had not informed anyone of his return, not even Scarlett. He knew when she saw the amount of luggage he brought with him on this trip that she would realize he was staying. It was all or nothing for Rhett. He could not have half of his belongings in Charleston and half in Atlanta. That was a sure way to drive himself crazy, and to be tempted to flee every time he and Scarlett went for a round of verbal sparring.

He had no doubt, making an attempt or not, there would be plenty of those in their future. They were passionate, opinionated people.

He tried to convince himself that he returned for the children, even if they were not his by blood. He had been trying to convince himself of that for the past two weeks, since reading Wade's letter, as he said his goodbyes in Charleston. Somehow he knew that Wade and Ella were his pride, making up a reason to justify his returning to Scarlett.

Sooner than he would have liked, he found himself pushing open and shutting again the waist-high metal gate that separated their property line from the public sidewalk and stepped onto his property. He removed his hat, holding it at his side as he approached the front steps and door of his home. He would laugh if he walked through the front door and found Scarlett and Ashley in some type of compromising position. It would serve him right for pushing her away as he had.

He was struck by the almost death-like quiet when he entered the house. He suddenly felt a wave of panic that something horrible had happened, and he had not been here. Where were the servants? Where was Mammy?

Where were the children?

Where was Scarlett?

He dropped his hat at the foot of the stairs without thought before quickly ascending them. He went first into Scarlett's suite, which was empty. This only caused the panicky feeling he had felt downstairs to grow by nightmarish proportions. He ascended the stairs to the third floor where the children's rooms were, and felt himself breathe a sigh of relief when, finally, he heard noise.

He went in the direction of the noise; the children's playroom, and opened the door. He was more than a little surprised at the scene before him. For a brief moment he believed he should have trusted his first instinct about Wade's letter, that it had been one of Scarlett's ploys. For there sat Scarlett, on the floor no less, in a day dress with Wade, Beau, and Ella sitting in front of her listening attentively as she read Grimm's Hansel and Gretel .

His doubts though were pushed to the back of his mind when he saw the look of genuine shock on Scarlett's face, coupled with the look of fear in Wade Hampton's eyes that no twelve year old boy should have to feel. Ella was the first to get to him, her little arms went around his thighs and she hugged him, her head resting against his hip. She was dressed prettily in a white dress with red trim along its hem and the end of its short sleeves. She had white ankle socks on and red patent leather shoes that were the same color as the dress' trim.

"Don't you look pretty today, Ella."

"Thank you, Uncle Rhett. You look nice, too."

"Do I? Well, if anyone but you had said so, I wouldn't have believed it," he winked. "But since it is you, and I know you'd never fib about something like that, I believe you. And I thank you," he winked again, offering her a smile.

She giggled happily as Wade pushed up behind her, not so gently getting her out of his way. Rhett saw the confusion and apprehension in his eyes and on his face and closed his eyes briefly. He would not betray the boy's secret. "Are you too old to give me a hug, Son? If so, I guess it's time for handshakes."

This seemed to please Wade, and he extended his hand to Rhett, who took it and shook it. "You've been practicing. I hope you're not going around crushing the girls' hands in Atlanta."

"No, Uncle Rhett, of course not, I've practiced with Mother on how to take a lady's hand."

Rhett's eyes met Scarlett's briefly, but nonetheless intimately. "Well, Son, if anyone can teach you how to treat a lady, it's your mother." He knew his choice of words would not be lost on Scarlett, but that it was exactly what Wade would need to hear.

Beau still sat on the floor, watching Rhett. This had to be a hard time for the boy. Ashley had not quite recovered from Melanie's death, and if what Wade had said in his letter about Scarlett helping care for the boy was true, Beau had been kind of shuffled around in the process. Rhett imagined Ashley's spinster sister was around to help with Beau, but knew Melanie would have preferred Scarlett see to the boy's upbringing than India Wilkes.

He wasn't sure Melanie would ever say that to anyone but Scarlett. Ashley perhaps. Melanie would have wanted Beau to grow up less sheltered than she had.

"How about you, Beau? Uncle Rhett's missed you too."

He smiled, displaying the fact he had lost a tooth or two in the back. Rhett held back a chuckle, realizing the boy had to deliberately be showing off the gaps for Rhett to see them. "Thank you, Uncle Rhett."

"Why, what's that space there in your mouth for?"

"I lost a tooth."

"You lost it?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And you weren't able to find it again?"

"No, Sir. A new one will grow in though."

"Really?"

Beau obviously knew he was teasing now, and laughed as a result. "Yes, Sir. I'll show you when it comes in."

"You do that," Rhett winked.

Scarlett had remained silent through all of this, though she was standing now and the book she was reading from was now on the floor at her feet.

"Mrs. Butler," he said, giving her a hesitant, but sincere smile.

"Rhett," she said simply.

"Where is everyone? I come home to an empty house and silence. I was worried something had happened."

Scarlett opened her mouth to speak, but closed it. Rhett could almost hear her willing herself to hold her tongue. "I gave the servants the day off."

Rhett raised a brow curiously. He found Wade with his eyes and, once again, searched them for any clue, any hint that the boy had been in cahoots with Scarlett. "Why did you do that?"

And she blushed. She actually blushed at his question, which piqued Rhett's curiosity even more. It had been many years since he'd been responsible for making her blush.

"Let's just say it was a well deserved day off for all concerned, and leave it at that."

"Should I leave you to your storytelling?"

"No, actually, it's fine. I was about to take them down to see about something to eat."

"Well, why don't we take them somewhere then," he suggested.

Now that he had had a few minutes while they were standing together in the same room, Rhett could see that she was worn looking and tired. She had dark patches under her eyes, and her cheeks did not have the hint of color in them that was normally there. Her hair was not as coiffed as it normally should be either. While she was dressed appropriately for any unexpected company that might call, the dress she wore was rather plain. It certainly was not worn to draw attention to her. It was almost like she was trying to hide, to shrink into herself.

Had he done that to her? He supposed it was not just him, but a combination of the events of her life since the War.

"Are you sure you'd like that?" she asked.

"Of course I would. I've missed my family. Why not show them off?"

Scarlett strode out of the room without saying another word. Rhett was not sure if she was upset, or overwhelmed. He told the three children to keep themselves busy in the room for a while so he could talk to Scarlett.

He followed her downstairs and into her room, where she was laying face down on her bed. "I could take the children myself if you'd prefer it, but I think it would be good for you to get out, Scarlett."

"Why do you care," she said, turning her head slightly so that her words were comprehendible.

"It's my first day back in Atlanta, and I come home to find my wife has given every servant in the house the day off and has three children to feed. I thought that I would spare you the grief of cooking for three children. And," he paused slightly. "I'd like to take my family to dinner. Is there a crime in that?"

"Is this for appearances sake, Rhett? I'm really not in the mood for making appearances this evening. I'm not sure I'd paint the picture you're trying to make of the beautiful family."

"No, it's not for appearances sake. I'll go there myself and bring the food back here if you'd prefer it. Or you could bring the children to Ashley's, and I could take you to dinner alone."

She lifted her head from the pillow. So many emotions were displayed on her face and in those green eyes at that moment. Surprise was there, along with curiosity and disbelief. There was a glimmer of hope, too, that she perhaps thought Rhett could, or would, not choose to see. "You want to take me to dinner without the children?"

A knock at their front door interrupted their conversation. "Ah, that would be my luggage. Why don't you change while I supervise them bringing it in? You decide in the meantime if you want it to be with or without children, I assure you I don't mind either way, Scarlett."

*****

Scarlett sat up on the bed, staring after the broad shouldered figure as Rhett left her room.

As he left her bedroom.

She let that thought give her … hope. It was something she never thought she'd be able to think again, honestly. Through her own fault and stupidity. Looking at things now , it was so dreadfully obvious that she didn't love Ashley. Not in the way that would make a marriage work, anyway. She wasn't even sure she could tolerate him as she had Frank.

Back to Rhett.

Dinner.

He wanted to take them to dinner. That had to be a good sign, didn't it? She huffed with a shake of her head at the condition he'd found her in.

While there was nothing necessarily wrong with the dress she wore, it was very simple and not all that becoming on her. She had no idea Rhett was returning to Atlanta any time soon, let alone today, or she would have dressed a little differently. It was just like him though, to come when she least expected it. On a day she thought she looked perhaps the worst he had seen her since the miscarriage, and give her reason to believe he might be here to actually try.

Was he?

She felt … hope for the first time in months at that idea. To say that things were strained between them the times he did return to Atlanta was a vast understatement.

It was that hope that had her get out of bed and regard her reflection in the mirror, thinking over what she could wear.

She had bathed that morning, so did not need to do that. That meant all that she needed to do was brush her hair and put on a different dress. It did not take her overly long to accomplish both of those tasks. Longer than it might have if Rhett wasn't here, and if she had Mammy to assist her, though.

She wanted to look her best, so took some time.

Not quite an hour later, she opened the door that connected their suites, having heard him in his rooms. Yet another reason for her to believe he might actually be here to try. The door between their rooms opened. It had been locked for quite some time until now. The last time he was here, he'd stayed in another room entirely. Mammy hadn't said anything, but Scarlett knew she was … disappointed in Scarlett. That Scarlett had done something to drive Mr. Rhett away. When she saw the amount of luggage there was in the room, waiting for him to put things away. Well, she knew then, without a doubt, that Rhett had come home. Perhaps Charleston had not been all he remembered it to be, or he just had a change of heart and wanted to be here with Scarlett. She really did not care just then, and didn't want to start a row with him now by asking.

After her eyes had finished their quick assessment of the state of his room, she smoothed down her skirt nervously and cleared her throat lightly. "Will this do?" He had to know she was there. The doors weren't silent when they were opened.

******

For the first time in a long while, Rhett made no attempt to hide the appreciative look he gave her. He'd always found her attractive. He recognized that her face reflected how tired she was. He hoped that wouldn't take much time to fix. He was sure no one else paid it any attention. He noticed it, only because of his feelings of guilt for being part of the reason for her looking that way. But her gown, a deep gold with green accents that was bordering on being brazenly low cut was stunning on her. He could not help but whistle once, low and almost lewdly as she turned around modeling the entire gown once she realized she had his undivided attention. Of course she did. Even with the bustle in place she looked amazing, and Rhett was aware that she knew it as well.

Scarlett met his eyes when she had finished modeling the gown for him. She smiled genuinely, the fact was obvious because it was visible in her eyes. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Now I feel severely underdressed, something I'm not sure I've ever felt before in my life."

"Oh, Rhett, how you do go on. I've never seen you look anything other than handsome."

He was … pleased to hear her say that. That was a good sign. A sign he hadn't waited too long to return home, wasn't it? Whether it was a sign she still believed she loved him, he couldn't be sure yet. And whether or not she actually did, for that matter.

"So, did you decide we are going with or without the children?"

"Well, I did sort of promise Ashley I'd keep Beau for the night. India has gone to the County. They're trying to rebuild Twelve Oaks, you know."

"Ah yes," he said with a nod. "I remember hearing about that. And India is in control of it?"

"Well, she'll be the one living there, so yes."

"Well," he said, unbelieving he was actually about to say these words aloud. "Why not invite Ashley to join us then?"

"Rhett, he wouldn't. I mean, it's only been a little over six months since Melanie died."

"Ah yes, propriety and society and their rules. All right, we'll take the children with us then. I've missed them, too, even Beau, so it's fine with me. I wouldn't have offered if I hadn't meant it."

"Too," she asked coquettishly.

"Yes, too, Scarlett."

He cleared his throat lightly. He'd laugh, but knew it wasn't appropriate to do so at this moment. He'd been deliberate in his choice in words. She clearly, as he suspected she would, picked up on that. It was perhaps the most … honest and forward thing he'd said to her. In a very long time anyway.

"Now why is it I haven't seen you in that dress before?"

"I actually had it made right before Bonnie died, Rhett," she said and cut herself off. "I admittedly don't know that it's appropriate. It hasn't even been a year."

"Well, Scarlett, I think you've worn your share of black to last an entire a lifetime. As much as I loved and miss Bonnie, too, I don't think wearing black for the rest of your life will do her memory any great service. She's not here to notice, and if she were looking down from heaven, which I like to believe she is. I think she might find it incredibly dull and depressing to see her mother dressed in gray and black all of the time."

"Do you mean that, Rhett? I always feel as if everyone's talking about me because of it."

"Don't let them worry you, Scarlett. I won't tell you what I foolishly told you years ago, not to worry about your reputation. But in your heart, and in my heart, we both know what Bonnie would and would not have wanted us to do. I'm sure Bonnie can see your whole life laid out before her, and she'd want you to be as vivacious as you were that first day I met you. It was because of that day she ever came to be after all."

"I suppose you're right. Let me go get the children dressed and we can go."

"Well, I imagine they're old enough to get themselves dressed. So why don't you go tell them to change for dinner, and then maybe you can come down here and help get me dressed."

*****

Scarlett blushed slightly and turned without saying another word. This prompted a hearty laugh from Rhett as she opened the door leading from her room to the hallway. No doubt intentionally.

She did not know what to make of this man who claimed to be her husband. He was flirting with her, complimenting her, admitting he had made mistakes, and talking with her as if he might care. She was not used to this Rhett. They had never had this in their marriage. Always their marriage had been layered with sarcasm, hurtful words, anger, and dishonesty when it came right down to it.

Of course the dishonesty had been mostly her fault. Now that she had time on her hands to think over the past, she realized Rhett had loved her all along. She realized, too, even more clearly than the night Melanie died, that she had loved Rhett all along. They had always been, as he so pointedly stated the night he left, at cross-purposes.

Could that change?

He was here evidently to give their marriage a second chance.

Right? It had to be.

While that idea made her feel good and relieved, because she knew if they both tried it could work. She realized, too, as she got to the head of the stairs leading from the second to the third floor that it could also end very disastrously.

Neither Rhett nor Scarlett was used to expressing their true feelings, nor were they used to being vulnerable and raw to someone else. She hadn't loved Charles or Frank. She had grown fond of Frank as their marriage progressed, but that wasn't love. That was always when the sarcasm and hurtful words had been exchanged between them, Scarlett realized. It was when they were at their most vulnerable and, perhaps, at the cusp of revealing their true feelings to one another.

She told the children to get dressed for dinner and meet them in the parlor when they were finished and continued with her thoughts on the way back to Rhett's room. Was that why Rhett had left her so suddenly after their night of lovemaking after Ashley's birthday party?

She had woken the following morning, realizing that she should feel cheap and wanton for the things not only that they had done to one another, but the things they had said to one another as well. And Scarlett had given as well as she had taken from Rhett, both the things and the words. She had known all along that Rhett had been holding back, but she never imagined that his letting go in their marriage bed would be when he was most vulnerable.

To think what might have been different between them if she had just flat out, boldly, told him the next morning how much she had enjoyed it. She did not care that he had treated her very unlike a gentleman treated his lady wife. He had brought her to places and encouraged her to bring him to places neither had ever experienced before. Of course they had not, because neither had done the act of lovemaking before with love involved.

How stupid of her not to realize this.

She knocked lightly on Rhett's door and entered when he bid her to do so. She could not hide the look of disappointment on her face when she saw that he had already changed. "You didn't need my help after all, it seems," she said, trying to keep her voice light. Tonight was no time to get into an argument over something petty.

He winked as he looked at her through the reflection in his mirror. "Maybe I just wanted to make sure we actually got the children fed. If it was just Ella, I don't know that I'd be too worried, but with two growing boys on our hands, I'd be afraid if we dawdled at all they'd break down our door demanding their food that minute."

She shook her head slightly as she laughed. "I suppose you're right." She glanced around his room once more, and could not help but ask him about his luggage. "Are you staying in Atlanta long this time?"

"I'm thinking about it, yes."

All right, so he was not going to jump in with both feet and declare he was staying for good. The fact that he was even thinking about it was definitely an improvement. "I'm glad," she said, her eyes downcast so that she would not see if he was laughing at her.

*****

He stepped towards her then, having finished placing his stickpin. He cupped her chin with his hand and tilted her head upward, his dark eyes piercing into hers. Ah, there was some emotion in them, some life, and some spunk. He kissed her lightly. He had not really planned on kissing her tonight, or anytime soon, but he had never kissed her under the pretense of her loving him. He was curious to know if it might be different.

And good lord, but it was. She took the light kiss he bestowed upon her with friendly affection, and coiled her arms around his neck drawing him closer, deeper into the kiss that he had started. She parted her lips and initiated the meeting of their tongues, which danced intimately for what to Rhett seemed an eternity. He could feel the pounding of her heart through her dress against his chest, and he was quite sure she could feel his echoing its response.

He had no idea how long that kiss lasted, but it was the longest kiss he had ever experienced without it leading to something beyond kissing. They had certainly never kissed like this before now. He drew away, both sets of eyes revealing the smoldering hunger that they knew could not be acted on at that moment. And both looks gave way to soft groans of disappointment when they heard footsteps descend the stairs, reminding them that they had charges they had to see to the feeding, bathing, and bedtime rituals of.

"The sooner they eat, the sooner they go to bed, right," he asked huskily, ashamed at how easily she had aroused him and made him forget that he was here for the children. He was here to give their marriage another chance, yes, but he had intended on going slow and seeing how she reacted to his wanting to be a father to her children. That seemed rather trite and unimportant right now. It could have just been stifled desire that had brought on such a kiss, six months, actually longer, since the physical aspect of their marriage had ceased to exist before he had left. Rhett was not altogether sure that was the case, though. Scarlett as far as Rhett knew had never allowed herself to succumb to desire.

"Not necessarily, but it's worth a try."

"No, no, there's no need to rush them. I haven't seen them either, Scarlett, and they need to get used to my being around again. So it's probably best we don't hole ourselves in our bedrooms right away."

"You're being a little presumptuous, aren't you?"

"Not really, I didn't necessarily say what we would be doing in our bedrooms, or whether we'd even be doing it together," he smirked.

"And what's this about you haven't seen the children? You saw them when you came here more than you saw me."

"Well, I had my reasons for that, Scarlett. I admittedly didn't think about them when I left that evening. Wade and Ella have lost one father already."

"I suppose you're right," she said, her eyes softening slightly as he spoke. "You're really intending on staying?"

"I'm going to try, Scarlett. I'm going to try, but you have to be willing to meet me halfway. Or there's no sense in my even being here."

"Of course I'm willing to meet you halfway, Rhett. I'll do anything."

"Well, you won't have to do anything, my pet, I won't make you jump through hoops or anything. But the biggest thing has to be no more lies or deception. I can't bury my feelings and my heart anymore, Scarlett, or I won't have a heart left to give. Even to you."

"I know, Rhett, I do. And I think I've finally found mine, the real one. I realize we can't start over, but I'd like to at least try and start over? I mean, I don't want to start over and forget everything that's happened between us, because I think what has happened is important."

"Do you now?"

"I do. Oh Rhett, these past months have been miserable. The town was talking about me, about you, and about our marriage and whether or not it was over. They were waiting, counting the days after you'd leave from your visits and I'd rush to Ashley. I never did, of course. I have avoided his house if India wasn't there, as much as I despise her, and saw him at the mill only with other people present. And then only to help him with the books."

"I know," he admitted as he walked to his bedroom door. These were all things Henry had told him, so he did know. "Let's go eat with the children, Scarlett. We have the rest of the evening to discuss these things. They're liable to tear the parlor apart if we don't get down there pretty quickly."

She laughed lightly and adjusted the pearl necklace she wore. "I forgot they were down there already. Let's go. I think they'll be happy you came home, my cooking is not exactly what they're used to."

*****

Rhett pushed open the door to Wade's room. He had said good night to Ella and Beau first, purposely saving Wade for last. Both Ella and Beau seemed as excited as Wade that Rhett was home. The three of them had left Scarlett in the kitchen, to see to the bit of cleanup from the cups of hot chocolate the four of them had drunk while Scarlett read the children a bedtime story. Ella wanted to stay downstairs to help her mom, but Scarlett had sent her upstairs to bed with the boys. Rhett unpacked some of his things before joining them, so hadn't gotten any hot chocolate, unable to quite believe that he was witnessing Scarlett performing such a motherly task as reading to her children before bed. And seeming comfortable doing it. As if she enjoyed it, and it wasn't a chore.

"Are you still awake, Son?"

"Yes," Wade turned his head on his pillow, his eyes wide as he looked at Rhett. He suspected he would be. That he would presume Rhett would come say good night to him tonight. The boy would certainly realize his letter was the catalyst for his step-father being back so soon.

"Good," Rhett said as he moved to sit on the edge of Wade's bed. "I guess you know I got your letter."

"Yes, Sir. Are you mad," he asked softly. "Please don't take it out on Mother, if you are."

Rhett smoothed down Wade's dark hair with his hand.

"Nonsense. I'm not mad at all, and I'd never take it out on you, or your mother, even if I had been." Rhett gave the boy a smile before he continued. "I'm going to try, Wade, to stay and make things with your mother work. You're old enough now, obviously, that you understand that she and I have had our share of difficulties."

"And they involved Uncle Ashley, right?"

Anyone who claimed children didn't know what was going on in their own home was blind. Or just didn't give children enough credit for having minds of their own to process things. Rhett knew this first hand, because he remembered what he'd figured out about his parents when he was probably younger than Wade.

"In part, yes. But not entirely. He was really just the foundation that had been set years ago on top of which newer problems were built. Please don't blame your Uncle Ashley for our problems, Wade. Your mother and I realize we're both to blame, no one else. I just don't want you to think that because I'm here it's going to be forever. I can't promise it will be."

"But you're going to try, right?"

"Yes, I'm going to try. I've missed you and Ella, and I admit I didn't give the two of you much thought when I left. Not that I haven't thought of you since I've been gone. I have, and don't you ever think otherwise. But I was angry and hurt, so I acted without thinking. My actions weren't meant to hurt the two of you."

Wade nodded his head against his pillow. "Yes, I think I understand. Mother forgot about us a lot."

"Well, that was a little different, Wade. Your mother had a lot to contend with. I don't think she ever purposely forgot about you." Rhett brought the blanket around Wade's chest and tucked him in as he stood. He kissed the boy's forehead then. "Your mother never forgot about you, she was just overwhelmed is all. She's very strong, anyone will tell you that. Even the strongest person has their limits, though." He smoothed down Wade's hair and kissed his forehead again. He loved this boy. "I won't tell your mother about the letter, Wade. If you want to tell her, that's up to you, but it's probably best if she thinks I came back for my own reasons rather than because of you."

"I don't understand, Sir."

"Well, she might get upset if she thinks that I came back for you not for her, that you got me to take a chance on our marriage instead of her. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," he said, though his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

"Let's just keep it a secret between us then, your letter that is, all right? That way she won't get mad at either of us. We want to try and get your mother all better, right?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good, we both want the same thing, and I'm going to count on you to help me, Son. You said in your letter that you and Ella promised to behave. I've never had a problem with the way either of you behaved so long as I've lived with you. Even going back before then. I've known both of you all of your lives. So please don't think you have to change the way you act."

Wade nodded enthusiastically to that. "All right. You'll tell us though, if we do something wrong?"

Rhett turned down Wade's bedside lamp, hiding the pained look that crossed his face at the boy's question. "I don't see that being a problem, Wade, but I promise you I will if it happens. You sleep well now. I imagine Mammy and the others will be back tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir. Mother was kind of mean this morning, that's why she gave them the day off."

"I assumed it was something like that. Your mother always did have a temper," he said with a low chuckle, thinking back to the day they met. Something he'd never tell this boy about. Well, at least not while he was still a child. One day, maybe, he could relay to him the story of how they first met. "I'm glad she's learning to recognize that she can't treat servants poorly and get away with it. They'll find another mistress to work for who will treat them fairly."

"Yes, Sir."

Rhett laughed lightly, realizing Wade probably had no idea what Rhett was talking about. "Good night then, Son."

"Good night, Uncle Rhett."

Rhett turned the bedside lamp the rest of the way off. He didn't usually put Wade to bed, only Bonnie, so it was foreign to him to leave a child in the dark. Wade wasn't frightened of the dark as Bonnie was, though. And, even if he was, he was old enough to turn it back on to the level of brightness he needed.

Rhett closed the door behind him as he exited Wade's room, and descended the stairs to the second floor. He removed his stickpin from his cravat before loosening and removing it before making his way to his room. He hoped he had eased Wade's mind. The boy really had courage when it came down to it, especially if he really didn't know how Rhett would react to getting that letter.

He removed his suit coat and trousers, hanging them over his valet before he changed into a black silk robe he had come by when one of his ships docked in Charleston from the Orient. It was a stunning garment, and Rhett could not help but buy a deep ruby red one similar to it for Scarlett.

He'd heard Scarlett tuck Ella in about the time he was leaving Beau's room, and presumed she'd already visited Wade.

He knocked lightly on the door joining his bedroom suite to Scarlett's and entered. He had not boxed the silk robe, not sure at the time he purchased it that he was ever going to have a reason to give it to her. He wouldn't have given it to anyone else. He watched her briefly as she brushed out her hair for the night. "I bought this for you, at Christmastime actually. I figured since it's bedtime you might want to try it out."

Scarlett turned to look at him, her eyebrows rising as she regarded him. "Matching robes, Rhett?"

"Well, not exactly, no. Yours is red and mine is not." He chuckled lightly. Obviously, she would see and know that was true.

She stood and walked the short distance from her vanity to where he stood and ran her hand over the red robe draped over his forearm. "It feels nice," she whispered.

"I thought so," Rhett said simply. He watched with interest as she seemed almost nervous just then. "I've admittedly wondered what it would feel like on you."

"Have you," Scarlett asked softly. That nervousness in play, he imagined.

*****

She moved her hand from the robe draped over his arm to the robe he wore on his body. She touched him almost hesitantly but nonetheless meant it as a caress, passing over his broad and hardened chest. She had never really paid much attention to his form before, how hard he had to have worked at one time to get his body to look and feel like it did. And strangely, despite knowing him for over a dozen years she had no idea just what he had done to get that way. She knew the rumors, the stories. She imagined some of them were true, but had no idea which ones were. Or which ones were embellished from the truth. Her hand encircled as much of his upper arm as she could and squeezed gently. "Hopefully it will feel as good on me as it does on you."

"I'm sure it will. You have more softness and curves to offer than I do."

"But a man isn't supposed to be soft and curvy."

"No?"

"No," she laughed lightly. "In fact, I'd say most women would look at you and say that a man should look just like you; tanned, rugged, hard where he should be but soft in a few places, too."

"You're too kind," he said softly. "I should tell you, though, that you're making the … soft parts of me hard by touching me like that, Scarlett."

She blushed slightly, tempted to look down at his waist but refrained. "Is that so bad?"

Was it? She didn't think so. Shouldn't she want him to get … aroused from her touch? That should normally happen.

"No, I wouldn't say it's bad at all."

"Can I try that robe on now, Rhett," she asked, letting her hand travel lightly lower along his arm to the robe once again. If it was anything at all like any of the other things he'd bought her over the years, she was sure it was exquisite.

"Scarlett, what are you trying to do?" he asked.

"What do you mean, Rhett? I just want to try on the robe. My husband comes home, apparently for good, and has brought me a luxurious gift."

He cleared his throat lightly. "Well, if I didn't know better I'd think you wanted me to stay in your room with you."

"Maybe I do. Shouldn't you stay here?"

"Well, if you remember correctly, you sort of barred me from coming in here."

"That was a long time ago. You're in here now, and I haven't asked you to leave. I was little more than a foolish girl then. I honestly wasn't sure how to unsay it." She glanced up at him coquettishly, hoping he wouldn't know how hard that was for her to admit. "Do you remember the night of Ashley's birthday party?"

Rhett winced slightly. Why? Had he not enjoyed himself as much as she thought he had? There was something she hadn't even entertained the thought of. Not that she thought on that night often.

"Vaguely, yes, I was a bit inebriated, but remember I wasn't overly kind to you when you returned home that evening."

"Oh, but Rhett," she said softly. She shed the wrapper she had been wearing, backing the short distance away from Rhett to her vanity. She turned to drape the wrap over her vanity chair and then turned to face him again.

Her husband.

She was being uncharacteristically bold, but she was not sure he would initiate lovemaking between them so soon after his return. She hoped he would not mind, Scarlett suspected somehow that the best way to let him know she had really changed was in their bed. He had heard her say things for years, and she had heard tell that actions spoke louder than words.

The deep yellow nightgown she wore matched the gown she had worn to dinner that evening and would offer a nice contrast to the red of the robe he had brought for her. The nightgown, while floor length, had slits along the sides of both legs practically up to her hips, offering him plenty of leg to view as she walked toward him.

She took the robe from him and put it on, not bothering to belt it closed. Her hands went to his forearms and clutched them, aiding her in bringing herself up to his height to kiss him. "I enjoyed it," she whispered as she broke the kiss.

Rhett pulled back from her, his surprise and pleasure both reflected clearly in his eyes. "You enjoyed it?"

"God strike me down in my place for admitting to it, Rhett, but yes. I often wonder how different things might have been if I'd just spoken up that next morning before you left with Bonnie and told you that I wasn't mad at you. That I wanted to go with the two of you."

"I wager things would be different between us, yes," he admitted. He lifted his hand and pushed aside some of her hair. "You know why I left that day, don't you?"

"Well, I've tried to figure it out, but I never could really."

"I was too vulnerable, you still thought you loved Ashley and by making love to you like that I was too raw, my emotions were right there for you to see. I was afraid you'd use them against me."

She understood that too well. They were both scared. And neither should have been! How different things might have been if they could have admitted their attraction to one another. Their true feelings.

She reached for the belt of his robe and untied it, placing her hands inside the robe and under his undershirt. "Are you still afraid," she asked, as her hands pushed his undershirt up so she could touch his broad chest and the light sprinkling of hair there.

Rhett's eyes fell closed briefly and he swallowed hard before he opened his eyes again. "Yes," he admitted.

"Well, I'm scared too," Scarlett admitted, repaying the favor he'd granted her by being honest with his answer. She knew it wasn't any easier for him to admit than it was for her. "But we can either let it control us and lose out on possibly the best thing in our lives, one another, or we can push it aside and not let it get the best of us."

"How did you get to be so smart, Mrs. Butler?"

"I am married to this very shrewd businessman you see, and he's taught me a lot."

"Oh really," he said as he shed his robe and then his undershirt which she was doing all she could to remove with the robe still on. "I think he'd like to teach you some more and be taught some things, too."

Scarlett knew that Rhett had not come back to Atlanta with this in mind. At least not tonight, but she had to start somewhere with showing him she was sincere. That she wanted him. In every way a woman should want her husband. Just how long did one wait to start showing her husband she loved him? She was not sure what propriety might dictate on this matter, and tonight she did not care. She wanted Rhett to take her to that place again. This time, they would both be sober and wanting to obtain the same heightened pleasure. Hopefully, she thought with a twinge of uncertainty running through her, this would not be a disappointment.

Both seemed somewhat inhibited just now and Scarlett took this as a good thing, too much confidence on either of their parts could be disastrous.

Scarlett, not sure just what she should do, sat on the bed, looking up at him knowing she made a tempting sight with her right leg crossed over the left exposed to her hip. "So, Mr. Butler," she said, eyeing him in what she hoped was a suggestive manner. "Are you going to stand there all night?"

Not that she needed to ask the question, he had already started walking towards her.

*****

Rhett pushed the silk robe from Scarlett's shoulders, his hands spanning her shoulder from neck to arm. "I don't know about all night, but there are some creative things I could come up with involving standing if that's what you wanted, my sweet."

"Say that again," she said, forcing her voice to work despite the rush of sensations flowing through her body just then at his touch, and the suggestiveness behind his words. She should have been insulted. Perhaps that was what he was doing, testing her, but she had liked that night long ago too much to deny him anything he deemed creative.

Rhett frowned slightly. "That there are creative things I can come up with involving us standing up?"

"No, the last words, what you called me."

"My sweet?"

"Yes, that."

His brow furrowed even more now. "Why?"

"I'm used to ‘my pet' or ‘my dear'," she explained. "My sweet is different."

*****

His hand dropped to the waist of the robe, a light chuckle following the movement when he realized belatedly it was already undone. He knew she had not fastened it, but it was a habit for him to have to undress Scarlett from her being trussed up like a Christmas goose. He admittedly liked this new, bolder, Scarlett. "I've come to realize, Scarlett, that different can be very good. Wouldn't you agree," he asked as his mouth fell to the tops of her breasts.

"Yes," Scarlett said quietly.

Rhett heard her inhale deeply as his tongue darted over her breasts and smiled, letting out a deep breath of his own. He felt her hands move to his shoulders and groaned softly, unaccustomed to her touching him of her own accord. His hands dropped to her hips as he scooted her along the bed so that he could join her on it.

"Rhett," Scarlett said softly.

"Yes, Scarlett," Rhett asked, anticipating somehow that she was going to have a change of heart and bid him to stop. The night of Ashley's birthday party he had been drunk, but even then he would not have proceeded to make love to her had she truly bid him to cease. That night she had not, but he also had not given her a whole lot of chance to. Tonight they were on more even, and sober, ground.

"Please, you're going too slowly."

"Too slow," he said, a brow rose in question as he regarded her, his head just above her breasts. Her green eyes were a deep green, unlike any color he had ever seen them before now. They looked like emeralds, perfect in their color, and the desire they betrayed was clear. Aimed at him. She wasn't faking that. She wasn't that good of an actress.

She nodded her head simply, her hands moved from his shoulders to his head drawing his mouth to her breasts, the part still covered by her negligee that he had, as of yet, not paid attention to.

Rhett followed her prompt willingly. His mouth gathered a peak into his mouth, hardened but not quite what it could be he knew from experience, through the negligee and stimulated it with his mouth, teeth, and tongue. He expected her to protest, to stop him when she realized he might ruin the nightgown but instead she whimpered softly. Her fingers spread in his hair as she offered more of her breasts by arching her back.

He felt one of her hands run through his hair and then drop to his bare back. He shivered slightly at the touch as her fingertips traced over his back and then imbedded into it as his tongue grazed her nipple teasingly.

His hands reached for and with the help of Scarlett moving beneath him and his leg, pushed the hem up, removing the negligee completely. He knelt above her, his boxers the only article of clothing standing in the way of them both being completely naked.

He could not help but look at her, taking advantage of the fact she was allowing him to look. How many times over the years had he wanted to look at her and she had refused him, claiming ladies did not do that? A corner of his mouth lifted into a partial smile as he realized she was likely thinking the same thing. He had maintained thirteen years ago that she was no lady, but until now she had been unwilling to shed the disguise she clung to for so long in their bedroom.

His hands touched her everywhere he could reach, her abdomen, her breasts, her shoulders, arms, hands and fingers. Her skin was smooth and blemish free now, the years of having to work Tara on her own no longer apparent. He was sure the emotional scars were still there, but the physical signs were gone now. Her body responded like he believed it would all along, and the look on her face was one Rhett knew he would remember forever.

She was enjoying herself, she was enjoying the fact he was touching her, loving her with his hands. He was not altogether sure he believed Scarlett had changed, but if this was any indication, he was glad he had come back. Not that their marriage could be rebuilt on sex, but if she was willing to meet him halfway, and then some, in bed he believed that she would out of bed as well.

He glanced at her hands, which were mirroring his. She was touching his chest with childlike wonder, which amused him somewhat. He was tempted to ask her what was so interesting, but he refrained, not wanting her to think he was teasing, or insulting, her somehow. Not now, there would be time for teasing later. His breath caught when her hands dropped from his chest to his waist and tugged on the waistband of his boxer shorts.

"Take them off, Rhett."

"Perhaps you'd like to remove them yourself."

She smiled and leaned up so that she could push them over his hips. She inhaled sharply at the sight of him fully aroused. "Did I do that?"

Rhett laughed lightly as he stood from the bed to remove his boxers the rest of the way. "Does that surprise you? It would be easy for you to do that to me whenever you'd like, Scarlett, merely by being attentive and responsive."

"I have every intention of being that way from now on, Rhett."

"I believe you, Scarlett," he whispered, surprised by the truth behind his words. When was the last time he had believed anything Scarlett had said without question? He could not remember, but he liked that he could say those words so freely and mean them.

His boxers dropped on the floor at the side of the bed, Rhett knelt on the floor and drew her towards the edge of the bed once again.

"Rhett," Scarlett started to protest until Rhett put a stop to her protests when his hand moved between her legs followed by his mouth.

Rhett was gentle, but his attentions were nonetheless intense. There was an emotion with his actions that aside from that one night had always been carefully held at bay when he had made love to her. One thing he did believe was that Scarlett had been faithful to him, which meant it had been quite some time for her since she had been with a man. As much as he was ready to make love to her at that moment, he wanted her more than ready.

He wanted to hear more of her directing him to go faster, pleading with him to bring her satisfaction, and yet he wanted her to feel cherished. He had always cherished her, but had, until now, been far too afraid to demonstrate that fact completely.

Her calls of his name changed from protests to questioning sounds as to whether or not she should actually enjoy what he was doing to her. Finally, though, the pleasure he was so adamant about giving her surrounded her, wrapping her and her doubts into its power so her sounds changed to untamed passion with little held back. If she thought these sounds would distract Rhett, as her pleas for him not to stop seemed to indicate, they had just the opposite effect on him. He worked harder, more diligently at bringing about her release.

He was not aware of her hands at his upper back near his shoulders until he felt her nails bite into his flesh, but even that did not stop him from continuing until she had ridden the waves of ecstasy that he had helped create for her. Several smaller ones followed her climactic peak and he aided her in riding each of those, waiting until her sounds of pleasure had been reduced to soft whimpers and whispered words.

He chuckled lightly as he drew away, trailing a path of light but still sensuous kisses along her inner thighs.

"I hope the children don't think I'm skinning you alive in here," he murmured, though he was not truly overly concerned.

Kids and servants alike knew better than to disturb parents when they were in their room with the door closed and bolted. Rhett legally, as any husband did, had the right to do whatever he wanted to Scarlett. And while there were times over the years he thought a good whipping with a belt or a buggy whip would have done her a world of good, in the long run he never could have brought himself to harm her. Or any woman. He believed their children knew that as well. Wade was old enough he might suspect what the adults were doing was not violent.

Scarlett looked shocked for a minute, as if she hadn't thought of anyone being in the house for quite some time. "Do you really think they heard me, Rhett?"

"No, I don't think they heard you. And even if they did, do you care? Wouldn't you like to teach your children instead of it being the duty you were raised as it to be, that it can be like this? Passionate, loving, and very enjoyable to both parties."

She slid back on the bed without his having to prompt her and he moved on top of her. "Yes, I suppose so. Though had I been taught that, I would have been severely disappointed with my first two husbands."

She groaned softly, no doubt feeling how ready he was against her and willingly parted her legs for him. Her hands moved to his buttocks, trying to move him faster into consummating this new relationship for them. He wasn't sure there was anything more arousing than her acting so wanton. He sure hoped that she liked it. That she knew that with Rhett she could let go. That it was Rhett that made it acceptable for her to behave this way.

"You wouldn't have married them if you'd been taught that, Scarlett. Trust me, you wouldn't have," he whispered hoarsely, honestly hating to think of her with any other man, married to the other man or not. His mouth dropped to her breast to cease conversation of Charles Hamilton and Frank Kennedy in their bed. He took her inviting and bold gesture and entered her. His teeth nipped briefly against her breast, grazing the delicate underside of her breast a little roughly as he sank into the velvet smoothness that was her core.

He gave as well as took from her, wordlessly demanding her response, her participation. He was not going to give her release without her helping to bring herself to that point. The night she had spoken of had not been the tenderest night of lovemaking in his history, it had in fact bordered on rough with his wanting to control her at the root of his what he had, until now, considered to be rude and unacceptable behavior. Tonight, though he gave her another taste of that, since she admitted to liking it. He would never hurt her, beyond perhaps slight pain that was brought on to enhance her pleasure, and when Rhett looked at Scarlett during one of those pleasingly painful moments, he knew that she trusted him not to hurt her.

Rhett felt her body tense around him, felt the swell of her breast grow fuller in his hand as she arched her back towards him, and heard as her lips parted and sounds of pleasure escaped her lips. It was to be the last of many peaks he had brought her to, at least for now, because he could not stop himself from finishing. A soft groan of contentment escaped his lips as he held her against him, both of them lying still on the bed.

"I love you, Rhett," he heard the soft words whispered against his ear.

His heart constricted, tightened, and then suddenly those feelings of dread and heaviness were replaced with hope, rightness and lightness. How many times had he prayed to hear those three words whispered to him from Scarlett during the aftermath of their lovemaking? How many times had he hoped and prayed that he would bring her to the point across from that careful line she had drawn through her heart and in a moment of weakness, after he had given her fulfillment, she would admit to loving him?

He was silent for too long, he knew he was, but he was not sure how to reply. And finally, he settled for the easiest answer. "I love you, too, Scarlett," he said, lifting his head to kiss her.

What frightened him most, was though it was the easiest answer to provide her, it was the honest answer. He had just admitted his feelings to her and, in doing so, if tomorrow she woke up and was once again the old Scarlett she would have those words he knew she had been waiting years to hear to use against him. That just did not matter to him as much as it used to, he realized. So what if she knew he loved her? There were worse crimes in the world than loving one's wife. He had committed, or thought of committing, most of those crimes, so he was well acquainted with the right and wrong of things. He just hoped he had not walked into the lion's den unprepared, but only time would tell.

He moved her so they were positioned properly on the bed, their heads at the pillows instead of the bed's edge. A light kiss made him realize that she was tired, exhausted and would quickly drift off to sleep. He drew the blankets around her and joined her in her efforts to sleep.

*****

July 1875

Scarlett was going over some papers in the study while Rhett was seeing that Wade and Ella were tucked away in their beds. The past year had passed by so quickly for Scarlett and so differently than she had imagined things being at this time when Rhett was gone that it was hard for her to believe that they had just celebrated their anniversary.

Things were not one hundred percent between them, they had their share of disagreements and outright rows from time to time, but both had come to expect that from one another. What a difference admitting their feelings to one another made, knowing that they both loved one another made all the arguments and bad times seem worth it. Neither believed at the next bump in the road they were going to run away or call it quits, they were both in this marriage for better or for worse, until death did they part.

Scarlett had never really been mindful of that part of the wedding vows when she married Charles or Frank, and she had not mourned either of them in the way she should have.

She mourned the fact she was a widow, had to wear black and abstain from dancing and other fun things more than she did either husband's passing. She regretted that now, but hadn't loved either of them to where she would have truly mourned them.

She knew, though, that if something were to happen to Rhett, she would mourn him properly. In fact, she had gotten to the point since Bonnie's death, Melanie's death, and then Rhett leaving her, that she was not sure what she would do without him there for her anymore. At least when he had left, she knew that he was out there somewhere, enjoying life and that made their separation almost bearable. Knowing he was dead would have been untolerable for Scarlett, even if they were not together any longer.

But now that he had opened her heart, beyond making her realize that she would never have to worry about where her next meal would come from or work like a field hand to feed herself and her loved ones. Well, Scarlett realized how hurtful she had been to everyone, not just Rhett.

It had not been intentional in the least, Scarlett had just been out for survival, others be damned. Her father had not raised her to let anyone get the better of her.

She had started by making amends with both of her children. She worked hard at planting memories of both of their fathers, letting Wade take pride in both Charles and Rhett and Ella in both Frank and Rhett. Both children called him father now, if anyone in Atlanta questioned this, no one said a word to the Butler's.

Rhett had spoken of adopting them; Scarlett was not sure until recently if that was the right thing to do. By taking away their last names and giving them Rhett's last name, she felt that it was in a way taking away a part of their fathers, too. But for their anniversary, Scarlett had given him what he had asked for; he was now legally their father.

It seemed the least she could do for him. She knew he loved children and with Bonnie gone, the unborn babe lost when Scarlett fell down the stairs, and her lack of getting in the family way in the past year, it seemed the only way he was going to come by them. She was admittedly disappointed that she had not gotten with child yet. It certainly was not from a lack of trying on their part. She would have liked to have a child born from the love that they were both so willing to admit and demonstrate to one another now.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the ringing of their exterior bell, indicating someone was paying them a visit. She was curious as to who it was and decided to answer the door herself. She could not stop the lump that crept to her throat from her heart at the realization that at this hour it was not someone just coming by to be social.

Please do not let something bad have happened to anyone, she pleaded to God followed by her crossing herself.

She opened the door to reveal a young man perhaps a few years older than Wade, certainly not a child and yet not quite an adult either. She recognized him, but from where she was not sure. He was dressed neatly but not expensively. Perhaps he was a friend of Wade Hampton's, though why he would be calling at this time of night Scarlett had no idea.

"May I help you?"

He removed the cap he wore, holding it against his chest. He was visibly nervous, his dark hair had a bit of a cowlick to it which made him look a little younger than Scarlett had guessed him to be.

"I was looking for Rhett, Ma'am."

Her eyes widened as recognition set in, and she felt herself grow dizzy. She realized before she could do anything about it that she was going to faint. She heard from somewhere faintly, the voice sounded so distant like it was coming from somewhere far away, a man calling her name. Despite the distance and the faintness of the voice she could sense panic in the one word he exclaimed.

Her name.

*****

Rhett dashed down the stairs as quickly as he could, but he did not make it in time to catch a fainting Scarlett as she started to fall. Luckily, William had reacted quickly enough and caught her in his arms, preventing her from injuring herself.

"What are you doing here," Rhett asked sharply, as he took Scarlett into his arms and carried her into the parlor. He would have preferred taking her directly up to their room, but with William here that was not an option.

William shifted his weight from one foot to the other and then back again nervously. "Mother is very sick. One of the girls sent for me, which we know she wouldn't have done if it wasn't serious. I felt I should send for you, even though she told me not to."

"She's what," Rhett shouted, not realizing how loud his voice had been until he saw William cringe slightly. "I'm sorry, Son. What do you mean your mother's sick?"

"I," he paused, collecting himself with obvious effort. "Eve sent me a telegram at school and told me it would be best if I came here as soon as I could. I got here this morning, and she's really bad off."

Rhett pondered this for a moment. When exactly was the last time he had seen Belle? He grew upset with himself when he could not come up with an answer. He had been so focused on Scarlett and the children, making a family and a real home once and for all, that he had not spent much time at her saloon upon returning to Atlanta. And his visits during the months they were separated. Well, he couldn't be seen there, so he had refrained from visiting her then.

One of the servants brought in the smelling salts, and Rhett hesitantly passed them under her nose. He wanted to bring her around, but was not sure how wise it was to do so with William still in their home. He could not leave without knowing she had come to and was all right. Lord help him, but he had the feeling the past year and all the good they had done together was about to come crashing down around him.

She came to with a start, her eyes opening wide as she sought out Rhett. She touched his face, caressing it with the palm of her hand. "I had the strangest dream, Rhett."

"What's that, my sweet," he queried softly, tenderly kissing the palm of her hand resting against his face.

"I dreamt I had seen you as a young man. That you showed up at my doorstep, but the strangest thing was you asked to see yourself," she said, clearly puzzled.

Rhett placed his hand over hers and lowered it slightly so that he could look into her eyes without distraction. Her touching him was always a distraction these days. "Scarlett," he whispered hoarsely, his eyes bearing into hers to keep quiet for just now.

"What is it, Rhett? Has something happened?"

"You fainted, Scarlett."

"I did no such thing, Rhett Butler; I haven't fainted in all of my life."

"You did, and probably for good reason."

"What reason could possibly be good enough for me to faint?"

"You weren't dreaming, Scarlett. A young man did come to our door looking for me. His name is William. He does look a lot like me, for good reason. He's here in the room with us."

Scarlett struggled to sit up, taking Rhett's assistance which he offered without hesitation. "But it was you in my dream, Rhett."

"Well, as I said, he does look an awful lot like me, Scarlett," he said, gesturing with his head to William who stood by the parlor doors like an unwelcome guest.

Scarlett looked from Rhett to William and back again. "No," she shouted. "No, this cannot be possible."

"Belle's sick, Scarlett. He came here to tell me. I have to go. Sick enough that one of her girls told William to come home, something she would never have done if Belle wasn't really bad off. William was kept away from Atlanta for just this reason."

"You have a son," she exclaimed, her voice panicked and shrill.

The pain at having her find out about this detail of his past in such a manner was evident in his eyes for a brief moment before he looked down. He planned on telling her. He did. It was just never a good time. Never the right time.

"And here I've been feeling awful about not giving you another child. How dare you make me feel that way!"

"Wait a minute, Scarlett. I never said I wanted you to get with child again. I mean, sure I'd love another child, and I realize that we have been trying for one since I came back, but that was only because we both wanted it."

Tears formed in her eyes, and Rhett knew she was struggling to keep them from falling. He saw them, though, and his heart constricted tight in his chest. He didn't like being responsible for her tears.

"He's almost a man, Rhett. How could you possibly have kept him hidden from me for all of these years? Why you've had him since you met me."

"Yes," he admitted. "Yes, I have. He's sixteen. Scarlett, this isn't the time or the place to talk about this. I have to go see Belle."

"You have to what," she shouted again, her voice shrill.

"Scarlett, she's sick enough that someone sent for him to come home and see her."

"You are not going to that woman's bedside, Rhett. You are not."

Not unreasonable, he supposed. However, Belle was, William's mother aside, his friend.

"Then come with me. If you don't trust me, come with me."

"I could never do that, Rhett, and you know it."

"Why not? You've nursing experience," he reasoned.

"You expect too much from me if you think I'd do that." She stood, using the sofa's arm for support until she was fully upright. "And you," she said, turning to William. "You can get out of my house."

"Scarlett," Rhett shouted. He stood and placed his hands on her arms, turning her roughly to face him.

"I'll go now, Rhett," William said timidly. "But Mrs. Butler, Ma'am, my mother didn't send me here. I came because she's dying, and I just wanted Rhett to know. That's all. I didn't mean to cause any problems."

"Between you and your mother I have more problems than I know what to do with," she said, but stopped from saying anything more when Rhett roughly tugged on her arms. "You stop manhandling me, Rhett Butler. Get your hands off of me. This is my house, you're my husband, and I'm not going to have that woman and whatever offspring of yours she bore come in here and ruin everything."

William turned to leave, Rhett unable to help but notice the pained look on William's face. This was the exact reason he had been kept out of Atlanta. "Scarlett," Rhett said through gritted teeth. "How dare you speak about Belle like that in front of him! Whether he's my child or not is irrelevant. You wouldn't stand idly by while someone insulted you or Melanie like that in front of someone."

"She's not someone, Rhett, she's a whore. She was your mistress. She's the woman whose bed you went to after you saw me all of those years. She's the woman whose house you were at when I struggled to bring Beau into this world. She prospered and continued to live high on the hog while I suffered because you helped her but you didn't help me. Not once did you help me."

The tears were falling in full force now. He couldn't blame her. Rhett took her into his arms, realizing she was on the verge of being hysterical. He took it as a good sign that she did not pull away from him, so he continued to hold her, to offer her whatever comfort he could. "Come now, Scarlett, I was there for you as best as I could be. I did, too, do things for you. I brought you gifts, I got you the mule and buggy that got all of you to Tara after Beau was born, I even saved Ashley's life. I rode with you to the mill countless times when you were carrying Ella."

"That wasn't for me." He knew she was referring to Ashley.

"No, no it wasn't, but you would never have forgiven me if I had let him die and could have prevented it somehow."

"Oh Rhett."

"I know, Scarlett. This is a lot to work through. But I have to go see Belle. I meant it; if you don't trust me and want to accompany me there, I won't stop you. But I haven't been with her in a very very long time. I've had no reason to be with her in the past year, you've been everything to me she could have ever been and more. You're my wife, she's not nor would she have ever stood a chance of being that."

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do. I would never have married her, Scarlett. I don't love Belle, and you know that."

"Yes, I do. I know that what you feel for her is what Ashley felt for me, nothing but an animalistic lust."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with animalistic lust, Scarlett."

"Stop it, Rhett. That's not what I meant, and you can't steer this conversation to our intimate life."

He placed a hand under her chin and tilted her head back so he could look into her beautiful emerald green eyes. "Let me go, Scarlett. Wait up for me if you want to, but I have to do this. Would I stop you from visiting Ashley if he were possibly dying?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath. Clearly, she hadn't thought about it like that.

"No, I suppose that you wouldn't."

"Belle's the closest thing I've had to a reliable friend. Besides you, she's been the one constant in my life for a number of years. If she needs me, I need to go to her. And William would not have risked coming here, would not have risked exposing himself, if she wasn't in a bad way."

"I don't want you spending the night there, Rhett."

"If I feel it's necessary, can I send for you to join me?"

"What," she asked, frowning, her eyebrows arching.

"Scarlett, if she's dying, I'm not going to leave her because you've instilled a curfew on me."

"Well, no, I suppose that wouldn't be fair, but that doesn't mean I like it at all. I thought I was through sharing you with her."

"You are, Scarlett, you are. I'm going to her as a friend, nothing more. Surely you know that."

"I suppose I do, but it makes me wonder what other things you've hidden from me. What other surprises are waiting to come out of lurkdom from the shadows of your past."

"And that's what they are, Scarlett, parts of my past. Did you even pay attention to what he called me? He called me Rhett not Father or Dad."

"No," she said, nipping at her lower lip as if she was thinking about that. "I hadn't noticed."

"We'll talk about it when I get back, Scarlett. You're not going to pack my bags and throw them out or pack your bags and leave me while I'm gone, are you?"

*****

She shook her head ever so slightly in response to his questions. She couldn't say it aloud, but no, she wasn't going to pack his bags. She loved him. That didn't mean this wasn't painful.

"Thank you, I will hold you to your word, Scarlett. We've come so far this past year, I'm not going to let this ruin what we have obtained." He drew away from her, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Have some tea and get some rest, I'll be back or I'll send for you."

"Very well, Rhett."

Without another word, she watched as he left the room. She heard the front door close a few seconds later, and knew that he was gone. He had left their home to go to Belle because she needed him.

What if it was some sort of trick? What if it was some sick and demented way for Belle to make an attempt at unraveling what they had spent the last year binding so tightly, their love, their marriage, and their family unit?

Despite the heat of the late July night, Scarlett shivered, rubbing her arms in an attempt to warm herself. It was not a physical chill that possessed her; it was a cold brought on by fear - a fear of the unknown. She hadn't felt it in so long, but she remembered it well enough. Years it was always there.

She was tempted to skip the tea altogether and instead imbibe in some brandy, but she had over the past couple of years lessened her reliance on the substance to where she no longer drank it other than with Rhett as an after dinner treat.

Her hand drifted in an almost affectionate caress over the crystal decanter's stopper. She felt the coolness of the delicately cut crystal beneath the palm of her hand and for a moment almost gave into it, as if it was calling to her. The amber liquid that burned going down at first but once the burning sensation subsided left her feeling numb, which was what she wanted. Was it not?

To feel numb, to feel nothing, to escape from the reality that now included Rhett having a son ironically within weeks of when she had presented Rhett with the gift of giving her two children his name?

She pulled the stopper from the bottle slowly and brought it to her nose, the smell of the brandy was invigorating. But then after a moment she felt revulsion.

What was she doing?

No, she was stronger than this, she would not become that person again, weak and dependent on a substance to make her think she was stronger.

"No," she shouted, slamming the stopper on the silver serving tray and ran from the room. 

She fled through the kitchen and out the servants' entryway in a flurry to the stables where she saddled up her horse quickly and mounted it, sidesaddle be damned. She needed to feel the wind through her hair, to smell the air, to feel the warmth of the July night against her skin, to see the night sky's stars and to wrap all these very real and very rewarding sensations around her to escape the temptation that was that amber substance located in the parlor's decanter.

The sound of the horse's hooves beating against the ground cast everything from her mind but the freedom the animal represented.

She did not need liquor.

All she needed was this, the outdoors and a good horse to ride until her mind was clear and the strong desire to imbibe had lessened into a weak murmur. She thought she had put this want to rest long ago, but obviously had not. It was frightening yet humbling and invigorating at the same time. There'd been a time she'd wondered if she was able to feel anything anymore. So to feel this was assuring.

Frightening because it would have been so easy to pour the drink and think on it later. Humbling because she was not above everyone else, she had problems like everyone and was tempted to take the easy way at solving a problem or at least numbing herself to it. Invigorating because she had not poured that drink, she had smelled the aroma and had stayed strong.

Even with her emotions jumbled as they were, she had stayed strong.

*****

Scarlett had no idea how long she had been riding. In the back of her mind, she was aware of the fact that she had been gone for quite some time and had not announced to anyone that she was leaving. She had stopped to let the horse rest, surprised to find that she had stopped in front of the cemetery. A cemetery that looked very different at this time of night.

"Melanie. Bonnie," she murmured, feeling tears form in her eyes.

Was it coincidence that she had ended up here in a moment of trouble, a moment of weakness? She doubted it, and found herself walking toward her daughter's final resting spot. Her eyes rested on Charles' headstone as well as Frank's as she walked, and a wave of guilt washed through her.

Charles should have married Honey, Frank should have married Suellen. She knew that, even though she would not have done anything differently if the same situations were presented to her. She did not like to think of herself as an opportunist, but she knew she did not fall too far from the tree by that name.

She was a survivor. Suellen wouldn't have taken care of the others as Scarlett had done. That had to mean something.

She knelt on the ground, running her hand along the area Bonnie was laid to rest. The flowers Rhett had placed on the grave just two days ago were already starting to wilt and wither away. They took turns laying flowers on her grave, sometimes they went together, but every week there was something on her grave without fail.

Rhett and Scarlett had come so far in the past year. They talked openly about Bonnie, their parents, Ashley, and many other things. Scarlett realized that Rhett was an even better friend once she realized she loved him. She had always known he could be a confidante, she had always been able to tell him things she could never tell anyone else.

The one topic they had both strayed away from, though, was Belle. She was a subject Scarlett preferred not to think about, and obviously Rhett took his cue from Scarlett and did not talk about her.

Scarlett knew next to nothing about the woman, except that Belle Watling had seemed to take great pleasure in knowing Scarlett O'Hara, the belle of three counties, had not been able to hang on to Rhett.

Scarlett knew that Belle contributed to the medical facilities during the War and helped Ashley, Dr. Meade, and the other men who had made it out of Shantytown alive the night Frank was killed. Scarlett never quite understood why Belle did it, Rhett had not accompanied the men.

She had not wanted any of her children, she could not claim to have done right by either Wade or Ella, at least up until recently. But they at least knew their mother was there and would do whatever it took to see that they were fed.

She had loved Bonnie in a way that was foreign to Scarlett, but it had not been enough to prevent tragedy from continuing to taint her life. The past year had been going so well, too well.

Scarlett should have known something would happen to throw everything off balance once again. At least no one had to die. Always in the past things seemed to start or end with someone dying. Of course, Rhett's son indicated that Belle might be dying, so she supposed death was part of the equation.

William.

That was his name.

She sat back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

How difficult that must have been for him to come to their home. He could have sent someone, but evidently he believed it was a message that should be delivered to Rhett personally.

He'd knocked on the door to the house Rhett called home with her. Where he'd helped raise her son and daughter. Where he'd adopted them so they were legally his now. Where he had loved and doted on Bonnie. Everyone in Atlanta knew how much they'd cared for Bonnie.

The boy, young man really, had never had that. Had he? He'd never lived in Atlanta, which meant he'd been sent off to school. Only coming home because his mother was apparently on her death bed.

Death.

"I'm sick of death," she said, her tears coating the coarse, dry grass of Bonnie's grave.

The soldiers she saw lying sick just waiting for death's angel to visit them still haunted her sometimes. The Yankee soldier she'd killed and buried at Tara. She did not know how many times she had dreamt of being surrounded by a mass of soldiers with eyes showing signs they were already dead, whispering her name, pleading with her to try and save them. It was either that or the dream she had for years of her searching in the fog for something or someone that was never revealed to her. Though that particular dream had lessened in frequency so much that she could not even recall the last time she had it.

Scarlett thought that upon Belle's dying she might actually be free of her. Even if Belle was on her deathbed, she would have succeeded one last time in coming between Rhett and Scarlett. The woman would die knowing that Rhett had left Scarlett to go to her. Maybe it was a ploy, an attempt by Belle to get Rhett alone with her.

Would Belle have sent their son, William, to do that, though?

"I won't let her do it," she said determinedly, even if it was a horrid path for her thoughts to take.

It had been years since Scarlett had done any serious nursing, beyond taking care of those at Tara who had injured themselves while picking cotton or other minor things that she could tend to without bothering Doctor Fontaine.

"We might just send the poor woman to an early grave from shock," she said with a giggle to Bonnie.

She stood from Bonnie's gravesite and glanced at the still dark sky, as she brushed some fallen wisps of hair at her forehead out of the way with the back of her hand. It was not morning yet, which meant it wasn't too late. Perhaps she had not been gone for as long as she thought. It had been so long since she had let her anger and temper get the best of her.

Her mother would disapprove of the vindictive thoughts Scarlett was having. Her father, on the other hand, would more than likely tell Scarlett to stand up for what she believed in. What was hers. Her father had been right about Scarlett needing a man who thought like she did, he was more than likely right about more things than Scarlett had really thought to give him credit for before now. She did acknowledge she was far more like Gerald O'Hara than she was Ellen Robillard.

"Let's just go find out what your daddy is doing," she said with a wide smile, proud of herself for thinking things through, and not turning to her brandy as she had in the past. And going to help Rhett, where she should be. Belle Watling's opinion of her doing so be damned.

*****

Once the children were at Ashley's (she owed him an explanation, no doubt, waking him as she had) and Scarlett was confident her lifelong friend realized the children were going to more than likely be there for the whole day and possibly the next night, she made her way to Belle's tavern. She had walked by it before, but she had never until today dared go inside.

She was not struck down when she entered the place of ill repute, nor was she overcome with the desire to cross herself as she crossed over the threshold. The place was, as much as she hated to admit it, tasteful and exuded a feeling of comfort. She could understand upon seeing it why someone who was lonely could be sucked in and lulled into complacency here.

Conversation did not stop, but the volume certainly dropped down when Scarlett entered the tavern. She was tempted to turn around and leave, Belle Watling gaining the upper hand with her husband, be damned. She would not let her win. Scarlett did not care what the boy said at the house, she would not completely dismiss that Belle sent her son to Rhett and Scarlett's house just to add another obstacle for them to have to overcome.

She realized, though, that she had no idea where to go. More and more sets of eyes fell upon her, and conversation was rapidly dwindling to the point where there would be none if she did not act fast. She was glad she had changed into a more casual dress. Unsure just what was wrong with Belle, assuming she was truly sick, she did not feel like ruining a good gown but more than that, this was not the time or place to flaunt what she had. The fact that she was a wealthy woman, even without Rhett, was a sore spot for many people in town.

She took a deep breath, summoning up the courage to actually do this and approached the bar. There was a mirror behind it that allowed her to see most everything behind her. It was a little disconcerting, considering she was outnumbered by a good number of men. "I'd like to be taken to my husband and step-son," Scarlett said to the girl behind the bar. She was young and pretty, but her eyes hinted at the fact that the girl had seen and done a lot in her years. Scarlett could relate. The girl got a panicked look in her eyes and a glass she was washing slipped from between her hands.

"Celia," a woman's voice called out from somewhere behind Scarlett.

"I know they're here," Scarlett said. "I know they're with Belle, please just take me to them."

"I'll take her, you clean up the broken glass, Celia. If you break another one, it will be your last. You hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am," the girl, Celia, said.

"It's not pretty," the woman said to Scarlett. She stood tall and proud, no look of hesitancy or insecurity about this woman. She was not young, and the prettiness that might have once been there had faded to something less appealing now. She was probably pretty in dim light, but that would be it anymore.

"I have come to assist my husband as he asked."

"He asked you to come here?"

"As if it's any of your concern, but yes he did. Now show me to him, please, or I'll find him myself."

Her lips curled up into a wicked sneer then, as if she was imagining Scarlett opening doors that should not be opened by ladies. Apparently, she recognized something in Scarlett, though, because without another word she turned and walked down a hallway.

The woman walked so quickly that Scarlett barely had a chance to take in her surroundings. She had not realized how large Belle's place was until now. Scarlett stopped walking when the woman did in front of a door. "I'm letting you in, but if you upset her in any way, I will see that you pay for it."

"I'm not here to upset her. I told my husband that I would be by to help when I got our children to their uncle's house. I have cared for my share of bedridden people since the War."

"None were your husband's mistress," the woman said snidely.

"Former mistress. One was the wife of the man I believed I was in love with. I could have left her to bleed to death after she'd given birth to her son and kept the babe for myself, using it as an excuse to get her husband to marry me. But I didn't, I did everything I could, including coming here to get Rhett, to ensure she lived another day. If you're trying to shock me, it won't work."

"I doubt that, but you can go in," she said, stepping away from the door.

Scarlett wished the woman would go away, so that she could take a moment to collect herself before going in, but the woman obviously wasn't going to do that and stayed where she was. Either she was deeply curious as to her reaction to what she would find in the room beyond the door, or she did not trust Scarlett.

After taking a deep breath Scarlett placed her hand on the door handle and pushed the door open with a confidence that was only skin deep. Her mind was screaming at her to leave, to turn high tail and run.

The room was dark, darker than it was outdoors, and it smelled stagnant, stale, and sour. The stench of sheets that had been sweated on and soiled for far too long was what filled Scarlett with a confidence that was not faked or an act.

She remembered this. She'd hated it, but she'd done her share as expected of her.

Scarlett's eyes found Rhett immediately where he sat in an armchair, his feet extended out in front of him. He appeared to be asleep, so Scarlett was surprised when he spoke. "Who is it?"

"It's me, Rhett," she whispered. Rhett had not whispered, so she was not sure why she had, but it was automatic she supposed when someone was ill to talk softly so as not to disturb their resting.

"Scarlett?" he asked, sounding doubtful.

"Yes. You invited me to come with you."

"And you refused my invitation."

"I changed my mind," she said, her back straightening as she prepared for a row with Rhett. She would not leave without a fight. She refused to go back into the tavern and look like a scorned wife.

He still had not moved, but Scarlett had no doubt she was falling under Rhett's careful and deep scrutiny. Only Rhett Butler could make her feel like squirming without knowing why exactly. "Fair enough," he said finally, and Scarlett exhaled a breath sharply.

"What's wrong with her?" She asked.

"Consumption," Rhett said softly, lifting his head slightly as if to challenge her to say something off-color.

"Is she?" she asked, and then decided she had better not. "This room is so dark, Rhett, and it smells terrible. When was the last time someone changed her clothes or bed linens?"

"I have no idea, Scarlett. She has not been awake since I've been here."

"And you didn't think to ask someone? The woman who walked me here looks capable enough to give you an answer."

"I didn't want to leave her alone in case she woke up. She's not scared of the dark like Bonnie was, but I didn't want to leave her alone," Rhett said, and Scarlett realized this could not be easy on him. No, he didn't love Belle, but he cared for her. They had decades of memories, personally and through business.

"I'll do it," she said.

"Scarlett, you shouldn't have to do this."

"I want to help you, Rhett," she said, her voice quivering slightly. Was he going to tell her to leave?

"It's too much to ask you to do. I never expected you would really come here."

"Where's your boy?"

"William?"

She nodded.

"I don't know, in the tavern perhaps."

"I didn't see him, but you should go look for him, Rhett. Why isn't he sitting in here with you?"

"He thought his mother would be angry with him for coming home and then coming to get me."

Scarlett sighed heavily. "Have the woman bring me fresh clothes and linens and go spend some time with him, Rhett, while I get things in here cleaned up. She's going to get worse, not better in conditions like this."

Left unsaid was that she likely wasn't going to get better. She knew the smell of death and decay well enough by now. Rhett, no doubt did, too.

"You're serious?"

"I'm serious, Rhett." She squeezed his hand, taking a deep breath. "He needs his father."

He stood from the chair, not as gracefully as he normally did, so Scarlett took that to mean he was tired.

"Thank you, Scarlett," he said and sounded surprised by something she had done for the first time in all of the years they had known one another. At least surprised in a good way.

"You're welcome," she said and met his gaze. "I love you, Rhett. I may not understand, but I can't fault you for something that happened before you knew me. I've done some pretty pathetic things since you knew me, and you've stood by me more faithfully than I deserved."

"True," he said with a cautionary tone to his voice.

"Go, Rhett."

"I'll send Eve in."

"Eve?"

"I assume that's who you were talking about. She'd been watching over Belle like a hawk before William got here."

"Oh," Scarlett said, wondering if that was her christened name or if she had changed it. He looked away, down at his shoes as if he might actually be embarrassed or ashamed of something.

Scarlett had never seen Rhett look this way before. No matter what he had done in the past it was always reputation be damned. Was he ashamed or just ashamed of having been caught? Those were questions for tomorrow. Right now, the important thing was to get him away from here and not leave his son alone to worry that his mother was in this room dying. And that both of his parents were upset with him.

She remembered arriving at Tara to her mother already dead. Witnessing her father's accident. Feeling so overwhelmed because she was the oldest. William had no one. Rhett. That was it.

And her, if the boy would allow her. It wasn't his fault! None of this was his fault. Obviously, both Belle and Rhett tried to protect him. They'd done a decent job of it, too. She could admit that.

"Thank you," he repeated in a whisper before kissing her cheek and leaving the room.

Scarlett took a moment to open the set of curtains furthest away from Belle's bed. Nothing was more depressing than a room dark unnaturally. Eve came in a few minutes later with fresh clothes and linens as Scarlett had directed she needed. "Will you bathe her?" Scarlett asked.

"What?"

"I assume she hasn't had a bath in a while, and there's no sense putting clean linens on the bed and clothes on her if she stays filthy. William shouldn't see her like this."

"She's not dirty," the woman replied sharply.

"She needs a bath," she said, through clenched teeth, hands balled into fists briefly. "I'm not insulting her. I'm trying to preserve her dignity for anyone who might visit her. She doesn't deserve to look like this," she said, gesturing to the woman on the bed. "She doesn't know me and, given our connection, I doubt very highly would want me to be the one to bathe her. Can you argue with that?"

"No."

"Then help me."

She seemed to think on this for a moment and then nodded simply. "All right."

"Thank you," Scarlett replied dryly. "How long has it been since she's come to?"

"A few hours at least. Mr. Butler hasn't reported any change."

"How long has she been like this," Scarlett asked Eve.

"Only a few days has it been this bad, but I knew," she said simply. "I wouldn't have sent for her son if I thought it wasn't the end."

"We can at least make her comfortable. Has Doctor Meade been to see her?" Scarlett asked.

"Belle didn't want him called, Mrs. Butler. Her directions were very clear, the only one that I disobeyed was sending for William."

"And she's seen him?"

"Not yet," Eve said.

Scarlett's eyes met and held the bright blue eyes of the other woman, knowledge passed between the two of them. Eve hadn't wanted the boy to see his mom like this. Why hadn't she done something to make her at least somewhat presentable for that? "Rhett never mentioned she was sick."

"He hasn't been by enough of late to know," Eve said as the two women worked at changing both Belle and the bedding. "In a weird way she was happy for him, and for you, happy that the two of you had found some peace."

"She loves him," Scarlett said softly, her eyes falling to the woman lying on the bed.

Her hair had obviously not been colored in quite some time, its natural color was showing through at the roots. That gave Scarlett a hint at how poorly the woman had been feeling of late, Belle Watling always made sure she looked good. They had that in common.

"Yes, ma'am, she does. And that's all I'm going to say. Don't be expecting to get any secrets or information out of me just because you're being nice to her today."

"I'm not looking for information, I was just making an observation. That even though she loves him, she was willing to be happy for him because he and I had finally worked things out."

"Hmmph," Scarlett thought she heard Eve say but could not be entirely sure.

"I'm not sure I could do it," Scarlett said softly. But she had always been selfish. She was not quite so bad now, but she still was. She could admit that.

"Her son should be here with her," Scarlett said finally after Belle and the bed had been tended to and freshened up.

"I'll get him," Eve said, going for the door. "And his father?"

Scarlett took a deep breath and glanced out the window. "Him, too. I'll leave them alone to say goodbye. I had to come," Scarlett said, her eyes moving from the window to Eve.

"I'm not sure I understand, but it takes a strong woman to do what you did."

Scarlett smiled wryly. "I don't know if strong is the right word, but thank you for the compliment. It was the right thing to do. I may not understand her, and we may have been on opposite sides of a great number of things. I remember she contributed to the war. I remember she helped friends of mine when it could have meant trouble for her. That means, to me, she isn't a bad person. My late sister-in-law would haunt me if I didn't help. Let Rhett know I went home, the children are at Ashley's for the rest of the day and tonight. If he needs me, he can send for me, otherwise I'll see him, and William, at home later. I'll be sure a room is made up for him, too."

"Yes, Mrs. Butler," Eve said as she retreated from the room.

Scarlett took hold of her shawl, draping it over her face, and walked to Belle's bed. She looked so still, an occasional coughing fit was the only sound or movement she had made since Scarlett had been in the room. She and Eve had shielded themselves as best as they could.

"I do love him, you know," Scarlett said to the other woman. "I know you didn't have William brought here on purpose. I know that you could have at any time over the years before now to try to successfully drive a wedge between Rhett and myself that might not have been mended. I thank you for that, even if it was for his benefit and not mine," she said softly. "I also know how hard it must have been to feel as if you had to keep him hidden from everyone for sixteen years." Some of that was Rhett, having a child out of wedlock. Some of that was her chosen profession. It wasn't Scarlett's place to place blame or judge in this. She hadn't always loved, or even wanted Wade and Ella, but she couldn't imagine (now) having to go months or even years in between seeing them. They were a part of her, and as she got older, she realized how important that was. "I hope there's no pain for you, and that you know that your son and your friend are here by your side. Please let them call Dr. Meade if you need anything for the pain."

Scarlett left the room, exiting via the back way. She did not want to encounter any customers or Rhett and William. She had done what she had come to do and had no need to prove anything further tonight. If only her father was here so she could have someone to talk to about what to do about Rhett. She could never talk to her mother about what to do about her husband and his illegitimate sixteen-year-old son. But she imagined it did not matter who she spoke to; her mother, father, and Melanie would each tell Scarlett that William did not change anything. She would be expected to pretend nothing had changed, which if the boy left Atlanta would not be too far from the truth. Rhett had never treated Wade or Ella as lesser then, and an argument could be made that Rhett had at least cared for William's mother. Unlike Scarlett.

*****

June 1882

Rhett glanced from William on the stage who'd just been handed his degree to Scarlett, Ella, Thomas, and Rebecca. Wade was watching the graduation ceremony with the rest of the student body, two years behind his brother. He was … humbled to see the four sitting with him smiling as widely as he was. Well, Thomas and Rebecca didn't know life without William in it. Scarlett had insisted they all be here today.

It was a far cry from where they were. William might not be crossing this stage today. Rhett, very doubtfully, would be here to see him do so without Scarlett's … acceptance. And who knew she had it in her to be that?

He was familiar with the phrase hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. He had assumed that fury would be aimed at him, rightfully so or not.

He had not been prepared for the almost violent way Scarlett not only defended William but accepted him once Belle died to the good citizens of Atlanta. It was fairly obvious when he showed up as he did whose child he was. Scarlett gave no indication to anyone that she hadn't known about him the entire time of their acquaintance. Never once had she disparaged Rhett, William, or, most importantly, Belle.

It had been rather astounding to watch her. For William's part, having spent most of his life at boarding schools, certainly always feeling like an inconvenience and not wanted. He had lapped up Scarlett's attention. Not that she tried to be his mother. Her situation with William was night and day difference with his and Wade and Ella.

It could have gone very differently, so Rhett considered himself the luckiest son of a bastard alive.

Speaking of being the son of a bastard.

Several rows behind them, refusing to sit with them and doing all he could to pretend as if Rhett didn't exist, was Steven Butler. William had managed to do what Rhett could not decades ago, and though Steven would never acknowledge the boy as his blood. He was proud of the boy graduating from West Point as Rhett was supposed to do once upon a time. This was something Rhett had never experienced or felt living under Steven's roof and heavy hand.

If anyone had told him he'd be here on this day, with his wife, daughter, and two more children after William showed up on their doorstep seven years ago, he would have laughed them out of the room.

Never mind that Scarlett had helped plan and stood beside them at Belle's funeral and even apologized to William for the unkind things she'd said about his mother at their home. She'd also assisted Rhett in going through the business and legal documents that needed to be seen to after her death.

William had forgiven her, but it was clear for a while that he kept waiting for her to turn that infamous O'Hara temper toward him. It had never happened. He'd finished school, coming to their house on breaks, and been accepted to West Point, having no idea Wade Hampton had his sights set on attending the school as well. (No surprise, given how proud the boy was that his father had served.)

Ella, at sixteen, had her sights set on becoming a nurse.

The sky was the limit for Thomas and Rebecca as well. Their beginnings were much different. Doting, but not excessively so, parents. Love. A house where playing and laughing were not only allowed but encouraged.

Rhett was fairly certain Scarlett couldn't be any prouder of them than he was.

The best thing about today.

William and Wade had gotten into West Point on their own merit and hard work. Their father hadn't had to pull a damned string to get them admitted. That hadn't been true for Rhett.

He regretted it now, turning his back on the life his father had hoped he would lead. To some degree. He couldn't imagine where he'd be if he had walked the path his father wanted him to follow. He was pretty sure it wouldn't have led him to Belle, which led to William, which led to him having reason to be in Atlanta. And, ultimately, in Clayton County that fateful April day twenty years (and two months) ago where he'd first met his wife.

He wasn't perfect, but neither was Scarlett, and he was pretty sure he wouldn't have found what they had with anyone else, leading the life he was meant to.

Wade's letter.

The one that led to Rhett returning to Atlanta months after his departure. It had been burned long ago. No one but Wade and Rhett knew about it. If Scarlett suspected something influenced his return, she never asked about it. Rhett wasn't betraying Wade's secret. He was merely doing what he should have done as man of the house, after all, looking after the people in it and ensuring that his mom was happy.

Rhett was fairly positive now, she wouldn't find that with anyone else anymore than he would.

"What?" Scarlett leaned over and asked him quietly. Apparently aware of his thoughtfulness at the moment.

"Just taking in the day," he replied. She knew he wasn't being honest, those eyes told him she did. She nodded simply, though, and didn't push.

Maybe, just maybe, if Steven Butler would allow it, Rhett would introduce him to his grandchildren at the end of the ceremony.

All five of them, ranging from age twenty-two to two. Unlike Rhett, all knew their father loved them, and they were free to lead the lives they wished to with no expectations or pressure from their parents.

Other than to be good people.

And, as he spotted Wade amongst the student body, and offered the young man a smile Rhett wasn't sure he would even see.

Well, Rhett was okay with that.

~The End~

Story ©Susan Matthews/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com