Title:  Something in Return
Author: Ellie (windblownellie@yahoo.com)
Rating:  PG13 
Summary:  Rhett accepts Scarlett's proposition in the jail.
PG13 Edit of the NC17 original.

****
Chapter 1
****


"Do you feel well enough to talk sense?"

"Let me go!"

"You are well enough, I see."

She stopped struggling and met his eyes.  The coldness was 
gone from them, replaced by something she couldn't 
identify, something vaguely dangerous.  Scarlett sank back 
into the chair and Rhett settled across from her.

"Am I correct in assuming that since you've come here to 
make me this offer that I am your last resort?  Or are 
there others to whom you plan on making this delightful 
proposition?"

Picking at one of the calluses on her palm, she refused to 
look at him.  "No," she said, shaking her head.  "I don't 
know anyone else to ask, and if we don't have that money, 
all of us will be turned out.  Oh, I know I can go live at 
Aunt Pitty's, but all of us can't go there, Rhett."  She 
finally looked up at him as tears threatened to spill from 
her eyes.

Rhett met her gaze and settled back into the chair with a 
heavy sigh.  "Scarlett, I really don't have any money here, 
and should I attempt to withdraw funds from accounts 
elsewhere it would draw attention I don't need right now."

He sounded sincere, the dark bite gone from his tone.  She 
dropped her gaze to her worn palms once more, hope fading.  

Only the faint drone of the soldiers talking in the other 
room filled the silence that hung between them for a 
moment.

"When do you need the money?"

The sound of his voice nearly startled her.  "Oh-the first 
of the month.  I don't know where-"  She broke off as Rhett 
rose from his chair and walked to the makeshift desk in the 
corner.

"Your uncle Henry is back in town, correct?"

She nodded, rising and making her way to the desk with a 
mix of curiosity and trepidation.  "He is, but he hasn't 
got that much money, either."

"I realize that, or you certainly wouldn't be here."  He 
was writing furiously as she peered over his shoulder.  
When he finished, he turned and looked at her sharply.  "I 
want you to take this note right to Uncle Henry and have 
him wire my lawyer in Charleston.  He'll understand, and 
you should have your money the day after tomorrow."

He held the paper out to her, but before taking it, she 
crushed him in an impulsive hug.  "Oh, thank you so much, 
Rhett!"

"Don't thank me just yet," he said, remaining still as she 
pulled back from him.  "When I am released, I will have 
some business to attend to elsewhere, but then I will come 
see you at Tara and we will work out the details of your 
end of our bargain."

Scarlett's face fell even as she reached for the note.  
"You mean you are taking me up on my-ah-offer after all?"

"As you have so astutely observed, I never do anything 
without an ulterior motive.  I am not in the habit of 
lending out large sums of money without getting something 
in return."  The cold tone she knew well was back in his 
voice, and his eyes were dangerous as she returned his 
gaze.

"Fair enough, Rhett."  She swallowed and placed the 
carefully folded note into her bag.  "Thank you just the 
same."

Rhett rose and wrapped an arm around her waist before 
kissing her firmly on the lips.  She was still reeling from 
the kiss as he led her to the door.  Trying to sort out the 
emotions whizzing through her, she barely heard him tell 
her goodbye.

****

Two days later, just as promised, Henry Hamilton arrived 
with an envelope for Scarlett.  He had been less than 
enthusiastic about associating himself with Rhett, but had 
grudgingly assisted his niece.  

William Payton, senior partner at the law firm Rhett used, 
had hand-delivered the envelope to Henry's office, on his 
way to seeing Rhett in jail.  Henry had been somewhat 
scandalized by the whole affair, and made his feelings 
known as she eagerly accepted the envelope from him.

Even Scarlett was surprised when she opened the envelope.  
Inside was not only a cordial note on Payton & Miller's 
firm letterhead, but a check for four hundred dollars.  She 
sat in quiet astonishment a moment before she could speak.

"Uncle Henry, thank you so much for all of you assistance 
with this.  Do you suppose you could give me a ride to the 
bank?"

The ride to the bank passed in near silence, as Scarlett 
contemplated her additional windfall.  Surely this could 
not have been pure generosity-he'd been angry enough the 
other day she was lucky she'd gotten any help at all from 
Rhett.  Yet here was an additional hundred dollars for her 
to do with as she'd like.  No, not as she liked, she 
realized.  Everyone at Tara needed more than that hundred 
dollars would buy.  But it would be a start.

****
Chapter 2
****

In the two months since her visit to Atlanta, Scarlett had 
not allowed herself to think of the debt she still owed 
Rhett.  She had thrown herself back into the running of 
Tara, contenting herself that they had something to eat and 
a roof over their heads.  Rhett's generosity had purchased 
enough fabric for everyone to have new clothes, and the 
sewing had proved an excellent occupation for her sisters 
and Melanie.

Scarlett herself continued to work in the fields, knowing 
they were still far short of the labor they needed to 
function successfully.  One afternoon she was so intent on 
her silent work alongside Will that she barely noticed 
Careen rushing across the field.

"Scarlett!  Scarlett!"  

"Careen!  What on earth are you doing out here!  What's 
wrong?"

Careen tried to catch her breath before continuing, "A man 
on horseback's coming up the drive."

Scarlett dropped her hoe and looked at Will.  "I don't know 
anyone who would be out calling in the middle of the 
afternoon while everyone around here is hard at work."

Without a backwards glance, Scarlett hurried across the 
field, Careen trailing slowly behind.  She quickly 
retrieved the pistol she'd stored in her mother's office 
and went to meet their visitor at the door.

As the horse stopped by the front steps, Scarlett swung the 
door open, gun pressed into the folds of her skirt.  With a 
deep breath, she put on her bravest front.  "Stop right 
there.  We don't want any trouble."

It was only when a laugh rang out from the shadowed figure 
that she took a closer look at him.  The jaunty tip of the 
hat and well-tailored suit she should've recognized 
anywhere, even if it was nearly the same blue as a Yankee's 
uniform.

"Rhett!  What on earth are you thinking showing up and 
scaring me!  Why I might have shot you!"  She hoped her 
voice didn't betray her swirling emotions.

"I have more faith in you and your lack of marksmanship 
than that."  Rhett's laugh was cut off abruptly by the 
appearance of Will around the corner of the house, carrying 
a shotgun.

"It's fine, Will.  This is Captain Butler, a friend of ours 
from Charleston."  Scarlett pasted a smile on her face as 
Will lowered his rifle and cautiously stepped forward to 
take the reins of Rhett's horse.

Will said nothing, simply nodded and led the horse away.

Scarlett fumbled with the gun as Rhett crossed the porch to 
stand in front of her.  "I might have shot you.  I did 
shoot someone here, during the war."  She looked up to 
Rhett, startled to see a mixture of amusement and 
admiration in his eyes and a smile playing at the corners 
of his lips.

"I would rather you never have to touch a gun again, 
Scarlett."  He took the pistol from her hand and stood 
staring at her.

"Oh, heavens, you've startled me right out of my manners.  
Please, come inside before Mammy wonders why we're standing 
out here talking."

She led him into the parlor, knowing well that it would be 
occupied by Melanie and her sisters.  They would surely 
keep him occupied long enough to postpone whatever Rhett 
had come here for until after dinner.  "Will you be staying 
for dinner, Rhett?"

"I was hoping I might stay the night.  It's a long ride out 
from Atlanta."

She blanched at his words, hoping he didn't mean that 
tonight...

"Don't look so frightened.  No one will think me less than 
the perfect gentleman while I'm here, I promise."

"Fair enough, I suppose," she said, sliding the parlor door 
open.  "Captain Butler, you remember Mrs. Wilkes.  And 
these are my sisters, Suellen and Careen.  Please, make 
yourself comfortable while I go tell Mammy and Dilcey we 
have company for dinner."

She fled the room as quickly as grace permitted her, 
wondering how on earth she was going to explain Rhett's 
presence to Mammy.  No simple excuse would satisfy her 
curiosity, Scarlett knew.

****

She'd left instructions with Pork to prepare somewhere for 
Rhett to sleep and fled to the office immediately after 
dinner.  In the past-capacity house, she'd abandoned her 
own room in favor of the office, spending what little time 
she had working and sleeping here.  The cushions on the 
couch still retained some of her mother's perfume, if she 
breathed deeply enough.  There were fleeting moments when 
sitting and breathing deeply with her eyes shut, she could 
almost imagine everything was as it should have been, 
running smoothly under her mother's instructions.

Such a badly needed moment was interrupted by a knock at 
the door.

Scarlett sighed, knowing who it must be.  "Come in."

Rhett stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind 
him.  "We need to talk, Scarlett."  

He took a seat on the couch and she could feel him watching 
her as she rose and walked to the chair opposite it.  She 
was unsure whether she should meet his gaze or avoid it.  
When she ventured a glimpse and saw the shrewd, predatory 
look in his eyes, she quickly focused them on the 
threadbare rug.

"You recall the deal we made."  He could have been talking 
about the weather for as calm as he sounded.

"Yes, I do very well."  She struggled to rein in her temper 
as worry and doubt overtook her.  Hadn't he said he would 
be a gentleman while he was here?

"Everything has been well here since we spoke?"

She was surprised enough by the question to look at him.  
The concern seemed genuine.  "Yes, we've all been very 
well, thank you.  The extra money--"

"Was nothing, I assure you.  I assumed that if you'd sunk 
to cannibalizing the draperies and begging money from me, 
you must have been badly in need."

"We were-oh, you shouldn't say such things!"

He chuckled and she felt her indignation grow.  

"It's the truth, isn't it?  Never be afraid to say what's 
true, Scarlett."

She pouted and refused to look at him.  If she was honest 
with herself, what he'd said was perfectly true, and she 
couldn't fault him for it.  His knowing it had kept 
everyone in clothes.  But it wouldn't do for her to admit 
that.

"I don't suppose you're the least bit curious about why I'm 
here."

"I suppose you've come to-to collect on your half of our 
deal.  Why don't you just get it over with and leave before 
anyone finds out?"

"Scarlett, come here."  His voice was firm as he reached a 
hand out for her, and without thinking, she obeyed.  He 
drew her down onto the couch beside him, keeping her hand 
in his.  "While I fully intend to collect on my half of our 
deal, I don't intend for it to be shameful for you."

"How can it be anything but?"  She tried to push memories 
of her wedding night with Charles out of her head, and 
blushed furiously.

"I meant to your reputation, my little hedonist, but I 
don't see why you can't enjoy it as well."

"Enjoy it!"  Scarlett pulled her hand from his and 
struggled back against the couch.  "I don't possibly see 
how I could enjoy such a thing!"

Rhett pulled her to him suddenly, crushing his lips to 
hers.  She fought against his arms for a moment before 
giving into the sensations swirling around her.  If she 
hadn't already been sitting, she was sure she would have 
collapsed.  Hesitantly, her arms encircled Rhett's strong 
form as her body tingled with foreign sensations.  What on 
earth was he doing to her?

Abruptly, he pulled away.  "Tell me you didn't enjoy that."

She could only look at him, eyes wide, as she tried to slow 
her racing heart.

"You can enjoy it, Scarlett, if only someone gives you the 
chance.  And I would also like your assistance as my 
secretary for a few weeks."

"Oh."  She was startled by this sudden return to business.  
Furrowing her brow, she tried to reconcile the two.

"I'm in need of some assistance while making some real 
estate investments around Atlanta, and know what a sensible 
mind you can have when you bother to apply it.  It seemed 
to provide a nice, proper excuse for you to be spending a 
month in the National Hotel in a suite adjoining mine.  If 
anyone asks, you can simply tell them you needed money for 
Tara, and I've employed you."

"Well, that makes sense, I suppose.  So I'll be helping you 
with business rather than-"

"No, you'll be doing both."

"I see."  She wasn't sure she did at all.  But what choice 
did she have?  And certainly it couldn't be terrible--he was 
sure to make sure she was well fed for a month.  Now he was 
looking at her with that expression she could never make 
sense of, like he was waiting on her.  She sighed.

"We can reevaluate our arrangement at the end of the month.  
I'll expect you at the National Hotel a week from 
Saturday."

He kissed her fiercely once more, sending her heart racing.  
Her mind was reeling under his pleasant kisses and the 
prospect of spending the month with someone who didn't mind 
when she spoke the truth.  She didn't have a chance to 
puzzle the matter out further with him, though.  Rhett 
broke away from their embrace and left the room without a 
backward glance.

Scarlett didn't fall asleep until she heard the clatter of 
his horse's hooves on the drive as dawn broke.

****
Chapter 3
****

Atlanta seemed busier than ever as Scarlett watched the 
city roll past her carriage window.  Between the depot and 
the hotel, she failed to recognize one person, and this 
bolstered her hopes that perhaps her time here with Rhett 
wouldn't attract so much attention.  Certainly there 
wouldn't be the sort of fuss that had been made at Tara 
when she'd announce her plans; both Mammy and Ashley looked 
ready to physically restrain her from going to Atlanta.

What right did Ashley have to tell her how to behave, after 
all?  He'd refused to take her away from her problems, she 
thought, so why does he think he can tell me how to fix 
them?  Heavens, he'd raised a worse fuss than Mammy, who'd 
done no more than make a few reproving comments.

As the carriage pulled up to the National Hotel, she was 
pleased to think that for a month there would be no one to 
nag at her but Rhett, and he didn't seem the nagging type 
to her.  She smoothed her simple brown dress-her only dress 
without patching or holes-as she stepped down from the 
carriage and handed her simple bag over to the porter.

Entering the hotel, she remembered how pleasant it could be 
to stay somewhere nice.  There were lamps and carpets and 
no one looked half-starved.  Scarlett felt self-conscious 
in her dull dress, especially when the concierge cast a 
look in her direction.  Yet that look changed to one of 
respect after she'd given him her name.

"Your other bags have already been taken to your rooms, 
Mrs. Hamilton.  I hope you had a pleasant journey here."

Scarlett paused, pen hovering over the register she'd been 
signing.  She'd brought no other bags.  Unless he was 
talking about Rhett's things.  She simply nodded and 
continued signing, preferring not to think about that.

"Your key, ma'am.  Please enjoy your stay with us."

"Thank you," she said, taking the key.

The vague worry she'd been feeling since leaving Tara that 
morning grew stronger as she followed the porter to her 
room.  She barely noticed that they had arrived and the 
porter stood by her open door until he gave a soft cough.  
Startled out of her thoughts, she dug a tip for the man out 
of her purse and entered the rooms Rhett had arranged for 
her.

They were simply but elegantly furnished, with polished 
wood and silver gleaming.  A bright vase of lilacs sat on 
the round oak table in the sitting room, an envelope 
propped up against it.  

With a trembling hand, Scarlett reached for the envelope 
and settled onto the cream silk couch to open it.  Inside 
was a brief note from Rhett telling her to make herself 
comfortable and plan to join him for dinner in the dining 
room downstairs at seven.  A glance at the mantle clock 
told her she had several hours before she needed to worry 
about that.

The soft carpets muffled her footfalls as she wandered 
through the suite and took in the massive bed.  It looked 
so soft and inviting, and a nap seemed such a lovely idea.  
Before giving into the temptation she opened the dressing 
room door to deposit her valise.

She was shocked to find that there were already clothes 
hanging inside.  The valise fell to the floor, forgotten, 
as she reached for the dresses.  Four were elegant but 
practical enough for everyday wear.  She stroked her 
roughened hands over the soft cotton and linen, noting the 
beautiful detailing on the collar of the dove gray dress, 
the fanciful pleating on the skirt of the burgundy, the 
lace cuff of the sapphire, and the particular shade of mint 
Rhett had chosen for her.  There was no question that this 
was his doing, and she was amazed at his generosity.  More 
amazing still was the fifth dress, a lilac evening gown of 
watered silk.  She hadn't had anything so lovely since 
before the war.

When she stepped back from admiring the gowns, she bumped 
into a set of drawers.  Opening them, she found stacks of 
new chemises, nightgowns, stockings, and gloves.  She 
picked up one of the kid gloves, thinking of the small 
fortune he must have spent on clothes alone.  Surely all of 
this expense was greater than the four hundred dollars he'd 
given to her.  It made no sense, but rarely did Rhett ever 
make sense to her.  

A card dropped out of the glove as Scarlett replaced it in 
the drawer.  It bore the name and address of a New York 
boutique.  She realized that he must have been planning all 
this since his release from jail.

The card was still in her hand as she made her way back to 
the inviting bed.  She dozed off contemplating the expense 
and effort Rhett had gone through to bring her here.  Yet 
he never criticized her the way those at Tara did, those 
very people she was trying to help by being here.  He could 
be unpleasant, of course, but rarely was he judgmental the 
way it seemed everyone else had been towards her. 

****

Something was tangled around her and she was running, 
trying to get free.  She didn't know what had trapped her 
or where she was going, but she just had to get there.  Fog 
swirled closer around her and she choked out a gasping sob 
before she felt something tickling her ear.

With a gasp, Scarlett started awake.  Rhett was sitting 
beside the bed, whispering in her ear, one hand smoothing 
along her back.  It took her a moment to remember where she 
was.

"Nightmare?"  His voice was gentle, like speaking to a 
terrified child, but he allowed her to pull away and sit up 
on the downy bed.

She took a deep breath and nodded.  "Yes."

"Do you have those often?"  He pulled his hands away from 
the bed and sat back in the chair, watching her.

"Sometimes.  Not so often lately."  Giving him a faint 
smile, she rose to her feet.  "Thank you, by the way, for 
the dresses.  They're beautiful."

"I could hardly have you accompany me through town in that 
same horrid dress all month.  Think of the damage that 
would do my reputation."  

"Do be serious, Rhett!  You didn't have to buy me such nice 
things.  And the lilac is really too much.  I don't know 
what I'll do with it.  The others will be lovely for 
Melanie and my sisters when I go home, of course, but I 
have nowhere to wear an evening gown."

His surprise at her words was easy for Scarlett to see for 
once.  "You're planning on giving those beautiful dresses 
away?" he sputtered.

"Well, it seems awfully impractical for me to have five 
dresses when everyone else has one.  They'll go much 
farther if I give one to everyone.  I can't afford to be 
hoarding clothes for myself."

Rhett's countenance seemed to soften before her eyes.  
"Then Scarlett, you ought to go put on that impractical 
lilac gown now, so we can go down to dinner.  I'll do my 
best to make sure it earns its cost while you're here."

For the first time, she noticed he was fully dressed for 
dinner and looking just as polished as always.  "Gladly.  
But...I don't have a maid.  There are a lot of buttons on 
the back of that dress."

"I am more than capable of both dressing and undressing 
you," Rhett laughed as he settled into the armchair.

Scarlett blushed and hurried into the dressing room, hoping 
he hadn't noticed the smile playing at the corners of her 
lips.

****
Chapter 4
****
  
Scarlett collapsed onto her couch and slipped off her 
shoes.  She couldn't remember the last time she was this 
full after a meal.  With a sigh she twisted on the couch, 
trying to get comfortable.  Since she had no maid, and 
Rhett had remained behind for drinks with a few 
businessmen, she was trapped in this dress and her stays.

Stilling, she stopped that line of thinking.  She didn't want 
Rhett helping undress her.  It had been embarrassing enough 
that he'd helped her into this dress.  Though she had to 
admit that dinner had been a very pleasant affair.  He'd told 
her to order whatever she liked and spoke to her about the 
properties he would be looking at this month.  No one had 
ever spoken to her about such matters, and had it been anyone 
but Rhett, she would have been delighted.  But dinner with 
Rhett wasn't supposed to be a pleasant matter.  She wondered 
at the polite gentleman she'd just spent two hours with.  He 
had been so nice when he'd woken her from her nightmare, too.  
Perhaps this month wouldn't be so bad as she'd feared.  

Just as she was reaching this conclusion, there was a soft 
knock at the door between her sitting room and Rhett's.  
Before she could respond, it swung open and Rhett entered 
and settled on the couch beside her.

"Did you enjoy dinner?"

"Mmm-hmm.  That was the best I've eaten in years."  
Scarlett stretched her legs out in front of her and rested 
her hands on her stomach in a very unladylike manner.

Rhett looked at her and laughed.  "I'm glad to hear it.  
You must be uncomfortable in all that after such a meal."

She groaned and nodded.  Then she thought better and sat up 
straight, perching on the very edge of the couch.  "Well, I 
am, but..."  It seemed impossible that Rhett would fail to 
notice the sudden nervousness, as she felt unable to hide 
it.  

Without comment, Rhett reached out and drew her to him, 
wrapping his arms securely around her.  "Scarlett, this 
nervousness doesn't become you.  You have a son, surely the 
relations between a man and a women are nothing new to 
you."

"No, but..." she hesitated, then collapsed against his 
chest, preferring to avoid the matter all together.  "It's 
indecent to even be talking about this," she huffed.

"In case you've forgotten, you offered yourself to me for 
three hundred dollars.  I think we're past the point of 
indecent discussions."

Reddening from hairline to chest, she refused to respond or 
meet his gaze.  Embarrassed as she was, it was startling to 
realize that she felt safe sitting here with Rhett's arms 
around her.  He seemed content to wait for her to respond, 
and she felt him kissing the top of her head.  Reluctantly, 
she looked up at him, trying to make sense of what she was 
feeling.  "I suppose we've discussed everything else under 
the sun.  But this isn't something that anyone discusses."

"You never have with anyone?  Surely before you were 
married your mother--"

"No.  Well, yes, but not like this."

Pulling back from her, he tipped her chin up with his 
fingertips, forcing her to look at him.  For a long moment 
he did nothing more than look at her face as she nibbled 
her lip in apprehension.

After releasing her chin, he said, "So I suppose your 
wedding night came as a shock then."  There was only 
gentleness in his voice, and it surprised her.  She hadn't 
expected this conversation at all, and certainly hadn't 
expected him to be so polite about such a vulgar matter.

For a moment she could only nod and wring her hands as she 
formulated a response.  "When you came to Tara, you said 
that this can be enjoyable, but that wasn't, not at all.  
It hurt and there was blood and I cried.  Then Charles went 
and died and later I had Wade."  At this moment, she felt 
very much like crying and fleeing the room to avoid this 
discussion.

Rhett pulled her close once more, tilting her chin up so he 
could kiss her.  She was in no state of mind to resist, nor 
would she have even if she could.  Everything seemed to 
melt away when Rhett kissed her.  It felt like everything 
good and right in the world was being focused on her when 
his lips met hers, so intense that it warmed her to the 
tips of her fingers.  Slowly her fingers found their way to 
the back of Rhett's neck, holding him to her while she 
toyed with his hair.  

When they broke the kiss, Scarlett tried to catch her 
breath as Rhett's lips traveled across her cheek.  As his 
lips found her earlobe, she gasped and tried to pull away, 
then melted into the sensation.  She had never known there 
was any enjoyment to be gained from earlobes.

"You never knew kissing could be so pleasurable, did you?" 
He smiled, drawing back from her.

"No, I didn't."  For just a second she nibbled her lip, 
then leaned forward with a look of determination to capture 
Rhett's earlobe.

"Ah, there, you see my dear, pleasure for pleasure.  None 
of this has to be anything like what you've known before."  
He pulled back from her and studied her flushed face.

Scarlett was unsure of what to think.  This rush of 
tingling excitement was something new, and she liked it, 
even liked sharing it with Rhett when he was being sweet 
like this.  While she had seen him be intimidating in the 
past, he had never caused her harm, so she was tempted to 
believe him.  But Charles certainly hadn't been the type to 
harm anyone, and those memories were far from pleasurable.

After breathing deeply a few moments and studying his face, 
she mustered a faint smile.  "You promise?"

"I give you my word as a scoundrel."

Both of them laughed at that, Scarlett still somewhat 
nervously.  Rhett stood, then offered her his hand.  "Come, 
let me help you out of that and into bed."

She took his hand and followed him into her bedroom, 
stopping when he dropped her hand.  It felt scandalously 
intimate when his hand wrapped around her waist from 
behind, caressing her through layers of clothing.  The 
other hand was warm against the flesh it revealed as the 
tiny buttons along the back of the gown were unfastened.

Neither of them spoke until her gown was off and Rhett had 
loosened her stays.  "Get ready for bed now, Scarlett.  I'm 
going to go change out of these clothes."

Suddenly, she found herself standing alone in a silent 
room.  It was a few moments before she stirred to motion, 
quickly shedding clothes and hairpins.  In one of the 
dressing room drawers, she found a cotton nightgown that 
was soft as a cloud, and happily slipped into it before 
climbing into the bed she couldn't quite think of as hers.

****
****
Chapter 7
****

When Rhett rolled out of bed, she wakened only long 
enough to note his absence and the beginning of dawn 
peaking around the curtains.  As the door closed 
behind him with a faint snick, she pulled the covers 
more closely around her and fell back asleep.

She woke again when the bed shifted right beside her, 
to the sound of a voice calling her name.  Rhett's 
voice, she identified hazily, what was he doing saying 
her name in her bed.  Then she remembered the previous 
night's most improper behavior and wished she could 
remain buried under the blankets.

"Scarlett, it's nearly ten.  You need to wake up and 
have breakfast now," Rhett's voice penetrated the 
muffling layers of blankets.  

The mention of breakfast tempted her, but the bed was 
so warm and soft.  She grumbled and burrowed further 
into the pillows.

Without warning, a blast of cold air from the room hit 
her as Rhett yanked the covers off of her.  She sat up 
at once, tugging down her nightgown and trying to grab 
the blankets back from him.

"Rhett!  Give me the blankets back."  While she'd 
caught the edge of the sheet, her tugs were not strong 
enough to dislodge it from his firm grip.

"Breakfast in bed is so much better when you're awake, 
you know," he laughed, tossing the blankets back at 
her before stepping away from the bed.

She'd busied herself drawing the bedclothes back 
around her so that she barely noticed Rhett's 
movements until he settled himself onto the bed beside 
her.  He was fully dressed, shoes shining in the 
sunlight that fell across the bed.  When she'd settled 
against the pillows, he placed a tray across her lap.  
It contained more food that she could possibly eat--
fruit, eggs, bacon, toast, dishes of jam and butter, 
and coffee.

"There's enough food here for an army!"

"I wasn't sure what you wanted, so I ordered you a bit 
of everything," Rhett said, pouring her a cup of 
coffee.

She took the coffee from him and took a tentative sip.  
It had cooled a bit too much, but was real coffee, 
better than she'd had in a long while.  "Thank you," 
she said, replacing the cup back in its saucer and 
reaching for a slice of toast.  "Coffee and toast 
would have been more than I'm used to."

"Well then I'm glad I ordered all of this.  You should 
get used to having whatever you'd like."  He picked up 
a piece of bacon and brought it to her lips.

She was startled by the gesture, but took a tentative 
bite.  As she chewed, she gave him a weak smile and 
pondered his behavior.  This was certainly not what 
she'd expected from Rhett, not at all.  Being brusque 
and businesslike had seemed more likely from him, or 
even sarcastic and taunting.  But she'd never known 
him to be gentle like this.

No, if she was truthful, he'd been gentle that night 
they'd left Atlanta.  She hadn't recognized it at the 
time, and he'd then been an ass to leave them all 
alone on the road.  But he had come when she'd needed 
help, had done the impossible and had calmed her 
nerves even as the world was falling apart around 
them.

"I can see you thinking, Scarlett."  His voice 
interrupted her thoughts, and she blushed and rapidly 
took a bite of toast.  "What were you thinking about?"

Before answering, she chewed the toast slowly and 
studied his face.  He was being terribly nice to her 
and didn't have that hard, studied look she usually 
saw on his face.  Swallowing, she summoned her 
honesty.  "About how nice you're being."

"Oh really?"  He took a bite of the bacon he'd just 
fed to her, his eyes merry.

"Well, most of the time you're either businesslike or 
sarcastic about everything.  Even when I came to the 
jail and needed your help you've treated things like a 
business transaction.  But since I've been here you've 
been kinder to me than most men are to their wives."

Rhett laughed loudly at her honesty.  "I suppose you 
make a valid point.  As I've said before, there's no 
reason this month should be unpleasant for either of 
us.  You're here for my pleasure, and as long as 
you're serving that purpose, I intend to keep you as 
happy as I can."

His face had lost that merry, open look and she was no 
longer able to read it.  But she supposed it only made 
sense for him to keep her happy to guarantee his 
pleasure for the month.  Yet, only last night he'd 
seemed to be content for the pleasure to be hers 
alone....  She shook her head, and taking another bite 
of toast, but the thought from her head.

"I'll ring up one of the hotel maids for you, to draw 
a bath and get you dressed.  I want to ride out after 
lunch and look at some property."  Rhett rose from the 
bed, heading for the sitting room.  "I'll meet you in 
the dining room at one."

When he left, she went back to contemplating his odd 
behavior as she finished her breakfast.

****

The buggy waiting for them at the entrance to the 
National Hotel was a vast improvement on the buggy 
she'd left Atlanta in with Rhett what felt like ages 
ago.  It was sparkling clean and the seats were well 
cushioned.  The bay horse was sleek and looked like it 
could travel to Tara with energy to spare.  Rhett 
helped her up to her seat before climbing in himself 
and setting the horse off at a sharp trot. 

Atlanta seemed to fly past.  Rhett never took his eyes 
off the road as he tossed a folder into Scarlett's 
lap.

"What's this?"  Pages threatened to spill out of the 
folder, and she scrambled to keep them from blowing 
away.

"Information on the property I'm going to look at.  
There should be a pen and paper in there for you to 
take note of anything while I'm looking around."

He was all business once more, and she pondered that 
fact as he pulled the horse up just past the edge of 
respectable Atlanta.  There were the remains of a 
house on the lot, but only barely.  A few walls clung 
to a shaky frame, without windows or roof, the chimney 
toppled off to one side, many of its bricks carted 
away by those who needed to repair their own property 
but lacked the means to do so.  Beyond the house, she 
could see the razed remains of what had once been a 
barn, and a few lingering fence posts and rails.  
Noticing this, she realized the property must have 
been a farm before the war, and must be fairly 
sizeable.

A glance in the folder as she rifled for pen and paper 
revealed that to be the case.  Twenty acres, just on 
the outskirts of Atlanta's building boom.  When she 
opened her mouth to ask Rhett why he wanted the land, 
she realized he was already out of the buggy and 
assessing the frame of the house.

"Scarlett!" he called, not bothering to look back for 
her.  "Make a note that the house should be easily 
demolished with a minimum of labor."

For the next hour she struggled trying to juggle the 
folder, pen, and paper while following Rhett about and 
making notes.  She thought the land was in terrible 
shape and would now be little good to anyone as a 
farm, but she also couldn't comprehend why Rhett would 
want a farm in the first place.  She had no chance to 
ask him until they'd walked the property line and 
returned to the buggy.  Once more, he took the folder 
from her and helped her up before climbing up himself 
and setting the horse off.

"What on earth do you want a farm for?  Didn't you 
just tell me a month ago when I offered you the deed 
to Tara that you had no use for one?"

"Had you been paying attention to the notes I asked 
you to write, rather than simply writing them, you 
would realize I have no interest in maintaining the 
property as a farm."  There was an easy smirk on his 
face as he spoke, and she felt her hackles rising at 
his old teasing.

"You try writing while chasing you across a muddy 
farm!  I could bare keep up as it was, let alone 
write!  And why would you buy a farm if you don't want 
one?"

Rhett laughed then, and her frustration and came to a 
head.  She swung and aimed for his shoulder, but he 
was faster.  He'd taken both reins in one hand and 
captured her fist in his strong grip before she'd 
gotten halfway to hitting him.  Refusing to let go of 
her hand, he slowed the horse to a walk and stroked 
one of her ink-stained fingers.  "Temper temper," he 
clucked.  "All you had to do was ask what plans I have 
for the land.  No need for any presumptions with me."

She huffed, calmer now, but still displeased at how 
easily he managed to rile her.  "So what plans do you 
have for the land, then?"

"Why, I'm glad you asked, Scarlett."  The rest of the 
way back to the hotel was spent explaining his plans 
for the land.  He told her that land prices were still 
low, but as Atlanta was booming, they were on the rise 
and the town was expanding outwards.  If he bought 
farmland cheaply now, it could be worth much more as 
land in town a few years from now.  She understood 
instinctively this plan of his, and told him that she 
only regretted that she had neither the foresight nor 
the means to make it happen herself.

When they disembarked from the carriage in front of 
the National Hotel, Rhett helped her down from the 
carriage and said, "I couldn't have chosen a shrewder 
secretary in all of Georgia, man or woman."

Both were smiling as they made their way into the 
dining room, arm in arm.



****
Chapter 8
****

Rhett sat on the sofa in her sitting room, reading quietly.  Scarlett sat on a 
chair, trying to focus on starting to knit a shawl with the soft burgundy wool 
she'd found in her room.  There had been a whole basket of it, with several skeins 
of fine wool in a variety of colors, and nice new needles.  She was not 
particularly skilled at knitting, nor did she find it particularly enjoyable, but 
it was something to pass the time, as Rhett was apparently not interested in 
conversing with her.

After stopping for the fifth time to undo a piece of her work and fix stitching, 
she dropped the mess of yarn and needles into her lap and studied Rhett.  He 
appeared to be focused on his book, but she would have sworn that he'd been 
watching her as she was trying to fix her knitting.  Vaguely, she wondered what in 
the book was so fascinating.

"Rhett?"

He looked up at the sound of her voice, a look of faint surprise on his face.  
Without a word from him, she could see his questioning look in return.

"What are you reading that's so captivating?"

"An old favorite of mine.  'Utopia' by Thomas More."

She rose from the couch and took two steps to settle on the far end of the couch 
with her knitting.  "Will you read to me while I'm working on this?  It goes ever 
so much better if I'm not thinking about it so much."

He looked pleased at her request, that much she could see clearly.  She could also 
see too that he had been taken by surprise at her request, and also something 
else, something that was not quite happiness, but seemed to be related.

With a smile, he opened the slender volume once more and began reading.  "As to 
their clothes..."

For long moments, the only sounds in the sitting room were the ticking of the 
clock and Scarlett's knitting needles and the warm timbre of Rhett's voice as he 
read.  Scarlett found herself being drawn into the novel, almost against her will; 
books had never held much appeal for her.  But the more she heard of this utopian 
society, the deeper a crease grew on her brow.

When Rhett paused and reached for a glass of water, she seized the opportunity to 
question him.  "I suppose it makes sense for them not to place so much value on 
jewels and finery.  But if all of them only have one outfit, all the same, 
wouldn't it be awfully dull?  Not everyone likes the same things, after all."

As she spoke, Rhett nearly choked on his water.  For a moment after she'd 
finished, he simply stared at her.  She was taking deep pleasure in finally 
shocking him speechless, even if she wasn't quite sure what she'd done, when he 
responded.  

"That's an excellent point.  The book was written as a satire of the European 
monarchies at the outset of the Renaissance, but in some ways too it reads as a 
satire of the very idealized societies it describes."

"Nothing's perfect, then?"  She looked down at the tangled attempt at a shawl in 
her lap.

Rhett gave her a long, assessing look before he answered, "Nothing I've ever 
encountered."  

He opened the tome again and resumed his reading.  After a moment, she abandoned 
her knitting and scooted further down the couch to rest her head on his shoulder.

Only when a teasing finger traced along the sole of her bare foot did she startle 
wide awake again.  It took a moment for her to realize that she was laying on her 
bed and Rhett had removed her shoes and pulled a light blanket over her.

"Wh--what are...?"  She was never at her most articulate when barely awake.

"Shh."  Rhett's gentle hand traced up her leg to rest at her waist.  "Go back to 
sleep, unless you want me to unlace your stays."

"Oh.  Yes, please."  She sat up, still slightly disoriented, at the edge of the 
bed.  "But aren't you--"

"Not tonight.  We'll have an early start with my agent tomorrow."  Unlike the 
previous caress, his motions as he unlaced her corset were impersonal and 
efficient.  

She rose from the bed and made her way into the dressing room.  Pausing in the 
doorway, she turned back to where he was watching her.  "You'll wake me, then?"

"Of course."  His reply was muffled as she removed layers of her clothing.

When she returned to the bedroom, he was gone.  For an instant, she was sorry to 
see that he was gone.  Quickly, she pushed that thought out of her mind and 
settled into bed for a comfortable night's sleep.


****
Chapter 9
****

Waking, she became aware of a warm breath tickling her ear and a hand gently 
cupping one of her breasts.  It was enough to shoot her bolt upright in bed before 
she realized it was Rhett.

He was laughing as she caught her breath and stared at him.  One hand still rested 
where she'd bolted out from under it, and his long legs were crossed at the knees.  
He was half dressed, a white shirt and gray pants evidence that it was indeed 
almost time to begin the day.

"I didn't mean to frighten you awake, Scarlett."

"Then for heaven's sake, don't do that to wake me up!"

"You would prefer something less arousing?"

She flushed crimson and retorted, "I'd prefer you stood in the door and called my 
name and told me to wake up, like any normal person would."

"I tried that.  It had no effect on you."  He stood and offered her his hand.

She took it and stood, trying to straighten her nightgown around her before 
heading to the dressing room.

Rhett's voice carried in to her.  "I'll ring for a maid for you.  Meet me 
downstairs for breakfast in an hour.  My agent is meeting us in the lobby at 
nine."

****

Mr. Porter, Rhett's agent, was an elegant, balding man in his late fifties.  He'd 
shown no shock at Scarlett's presence at Rhett's side, nor had he treated her with 
anything less than propriety demanded.  Yet aside from required pleasantries and 
introductions, he seemed to take great care not to address her at all.

Most of the day passed with her feeling like a shadow, taking what notes Rhett 
requested and following both of them all over Atlanta.  She didn't think she'd 
seen this much of the city during the years she'd lived in it, and certainly 
hadn't walked through this much of it.  It seemed to be essential to Rhett to walk 
around the perimeters of all the properties they looked at, and her feet were 
raising objections to doing this in new shoes.  Due to the presence of Mr. Porter, 
however, she was reluctant to say anything to Rhett about it, and instead 
miserably trod along behind the two men, and removing her shoes under her skirts 
when they were in the carriage.

It was a great relief to her when late in the afternoon they returned to the 
hotel.  Rhett helped her down and gave her a long look as she winced when her feet 
touched the ground.  At that moment, he said nothing, only tipped his hat and said 
his goodbyes to Mr. Porter, who was already driving off in the carriage.

As they walked into the hotel lobby, he allowed her to head straight for the 
stairs as he stopped at the desk.  She didn't glance back, only trudged slowly up 
to her suite.  As soon as the door was closed behind her, she slipped off her 
shoes and carried them back to the dressing room.  With minimal searching, she 
found a pair of satin slippers and slid them on.

Just as she was settling onto the couch and propping her feet up in a most 
unladylike manner, Rhett opened the door between their suites without so much as a 
knock.  It seemed like too much effort to glare at him, so she simply stared and 
waited him to speak.

He seemed unperturbed and quietly closed the door and took a seat on the couch 
next to her before speaking.  "I'm having dinner sent up.  It should be here in 
about twenty minutes.  Are you all right?"

"Good, I'm hungry.  And tired and my feet hurt and I feel like I know how a dog 
feels, after today."  She shifted away from him on the couch and frowned.

"How a dog feels?"  The smile in his voice wasn't quite visible on his face, but 
she could hear the mocking laugh threatening.

"Both of you ignored me, except for when you wanted me to write something down for 
you.  I felt like one of Father's retrievers, trailing along and ignored until it 
was needed to fetch something!"

"You're here to assist me as I see necessary.  I didn't intend to make you feel 
unwelcome, but you're here to help me, not be a part of the decision making 
process.  But I will try in the future not to ignore you."

She sighed, too tired to argue.  "Thank you."

"Now, relax.  Dinner will be here soon then we can go to bed.  You'll be happy to 
know that the only thing I have to do tomorrow is meet with Mr. Porter at two."

Rhett reached down the couch and pulled her towards him, planting a kiss on her 
temple.  She did relax a bit then, almost smiling as his arms wrapped around her.

****
Chapter 10
****

After dinner, Scarlett was feeling much better than she had during the course of the day.  Rhett had reverted to being as pleasant as he'd been for most of her visit, and she still marveled at the difference in mood a full stomach could make.

While Rhett rang for someone to take away the remains of dinner, she wandered about his sitting room, giving a cursory glance over a stack of books before studying the pile of paperwork on his desk.

"Found something interesting?" Rhett asked, coming up quietly behind her and resting a warm hand on her waist.  

The simple gesture reminded her suddenly of his reference to bed after dinner, and she tensed slightly.  "Maybe.  This is quite a list of properties.  Are we going to look at all of them?"

He pulled her slightly away from the desk.  "I will be, yes."  His hands traced up her sides, and he stepped back as she shivered.  "Relax, Scarlett.  As I told you Saturday night, I've no intention of making this unpleasant for you.  Sit down."

Warily, she settled into one of the chairs, watching as Rhett went back to the desk and began shuffling through the pile of books and papers.  Just then, the door opened and dinner's remains were whisked away as she tried to conceal a blush at being seen in his sitting room, alone.

Several moments of silence passed after the servants had taken away the remains of their meal.  Scarlett sat uncomfortably on the couch, trying to wrap her mind around the idea that she was really about to sleep with Rhett.  She'd steeled herself to the idea on the train trip to Atlanta, had been prepared for it to happen on that first night while she was numbed to the idea.  What had happened between them had been far removed from anything she could even have imagined.  Any proper lady should die of embarrassment to even think such things existed.  Yet true to his word, the experience with Rhett had not been unpleasant, and while she was troubled by the sentiments it had evoked, she was willing to acknowledge, at least to herself, that she had liked it.  Yet there was still a lingering trepidation on her part.

Rhett appeared to have no such worries.  At the desk, he was casually flipping through paperwork, occasionally pausing to read.  For several minutes she studied him at this task, and he never seemed to spare so much as a glance in her direction.  When he finally did look up from the paperwork, he met her gaze.  Quickly, she looked away, brushing at an invisible spot of dirt on her skirts.

"Scarlett."  There was no one on earth who said her name the way Rhett did, deep and warm, that could affect her almost as much as his kisses.

Taking a deep breath, she summoned her courage and met his steady gaze.  While she could see some of the curiosity and sardonic amusement written plainly on his face, she could also see a genuine regard for her.

"Is this portion of our bargain still troubling you?"

She had never been able to lie to him, especially when she most wanted to.  "Yes."

Rhett rose from the desk and settled into the chair opposite her.  "As I've said, my intention is not to make this experience unpleasant for you.  In fact, I'd like very much if you enjoyed it."  His lips curved into a broad grin as he considered her.  "And tell me, Scarlett, did you?"

At his query, she looked away once more, to stare at her hands.  "I--I don't know...I'm not sure what to think about it, Rhett.  The more I think about it, the more confused I get.  What you did with me wasn't something decent people should even know about!  My mother would have been horrified at me, and for me to say that it was something enjoyable..."

"But it would be the truth wouldn't it?"

"I'm going straight to hell for admitting it, but I did."

Rhett smirked.  "You feel damned for enjoying yourself?"

"But that's not something you're supposed to enjoy!  And certainly not with someone who isn't your spouse."

Reaching into the box on the table, Rhett pulled out a cigar and took a moment to light it.  Taking a puff, he settled back into the chair.  "You remember when we discussed Utopia the other night?"

"Yes.  What about it?"  She furrowed her brow in puzzlement as she tried to reconcile the philosophy-dense book with their indecent behavior.

"You asked what sense it made that everyone should wear the same clothes, because not everyone likes the same things.  If people don't all like the same clothes, why should they all like the same behavior?"

"But...no one likes this type of behavior!  If anyone knew-"

"You just said you liked it."  

She frowned.  "Yes, but..."

"But, what?"

"I don't think most people like the same things I do."

He gave her an assessing look.  "That's a very astute observation, Scarlett.  If you don't share the sentiments of most people, why should it matter, then?  Shouldn't your liking it be enough?"

For a long minute, she mulled that over before answering, "I suppose that it should be."

Rhett nodded.  "Now, are you ready to go enjoy yourself?"

She mustered an uncertain smile as he picked her up off the couch and carried her back towards her suite.

****
****
Chapter 12
****

Something was wrapped around her, and she couldn't run.  She struggled, but couldn't pull away from it.  Tears stung her eyes as she tried with all her might to get away, to keep running, but she couldn't.

Through the panic, she heard a voice tickling in her ear, low and soothing.  It felt safe and familiar and slowly, the panic fell away as she focused on the sound of it, repeating her name and the same soft nothings one would use to comfort a child.

Awareness hit her suddenly, full force, and her eyes flew open.  She was resting against Rhett's bare chest, his strong arms around her.  It was he who had been speaking so gently to her.  She sighed and tried to pull away in embarrassment.

"Scarlett, it's all right."  His arms tightened and prevented her escape.

She refused to look at him.  "Yes, I know.  I'd just like to go back to sleep."  Even to herself she didn't sound convincing, and knew from experience that she would most likely not be returning to sleep.

Rhett's embrace loosened, and his hands began smoothing over her back.  "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He didn't press the issue further at her silence, just continued to caress her back in the darkness.  After a few minutes of this, she let out a deep breath and began to whisper the nightmare to him.  "It started after we fled to Tara.  But it's only sometimes, when I'm tired but not so exhausted I can't dream.  At Tara, I'd work myself to exhaustion just so I wouldn't have to dream it each night."

For a moment, both of them were quiet.  Rhett's hand slipped through her hair as she debated telling him the details of the dream.  If he'd said anything to her, she wouldn't have said more, would have been more than content with the warm, soothing tones of his voice.  But it was her barely perceptible whisper than broke their silence once more.  "I'm in a fog, and it's almost dark, and I'm running.  I don't know if I'm running from something or to something, I only know that I have to run.  But the more I run, the more lost and helpless I feel, and I can never find anything in the fog.  I'm not sure I'd know what it was when I found it, anyway."

"Exhausting oneself to avoid nightmares usually makes them worse when you do have them," Rhett whispered, close to her ear.

It was not the response she expected from him, though after the last few days she realized she was never quite sure what to expect from him.  "You've had nightmares, Rhett?"  She looked up at him, and could barely make out the obsidian gleam of his eyes in the darkness.

Before answering, he gathered her close and kissed the crown of her head.  "Yes," he answered simply, "I have."

She waited a moment for him to elaborate, as she had, but after a moment realized that it was not going to happen.  Tonight the knowledge that something frightened Rhett Butler enough to cause him nightmares would have to suffice.  Somehow, it gave her comfort and she gradually drifted back to sleep in his embrace.


When she awoke again, bright sunlight was seeping around the edges of her curtains, and Rhett's hands were tickling her ribs.  With a fit of giggles, she was wide awake, trying to roll away from him on the bed.

"Rhett!  Stop, oh please stop!"  She gasped out with laughter, tangling in the covers.  

After a moment he did, and pulled her back to him.  When their bodies came in contact, she was stunned to realize that they were both still naked under the covers.  She buried her face in the pillow then, not sure what was expected of her.

Rhett kissed her neck quietly for a moment while caressing her hip.  "How are you this morning, Scarlett?"

She blushed and turned her face away from him.  "Better than I expected to be," she answered honestly.

"I'm glad to hear that.  Not so terrible after all, is it?"  There was an edge of sarcasm in his voice that she couldn't be bothered to address this morning.

"No, it wasn't," she answered quietly.  She lay still and waited for some cue from him on how she was expected to behave.

After a moment, Rhett pulled away from her and rose from bed, letting a large gust of cool air sweep under the blankets.  She shivered and snuggled deeper into the blankets as he began to dress.  She feigned sleep until he left the room, her mind racing.  As much as she was worried about last night, Rhett had been very pleasant about it.  Shifting under the blankets, she had to admit that she was a bit sore in places she hadn't been previously aware of, but the experience had been a pleasant one.  How could he go from tickling her awake to being faintly sarcastic so quickly?  In one moment, he seemed to enjoy being sweet to her and then next as if she could be anyone.

Her eyes flew open when Rhett returned to the room and settled onto the bed next to her.  "The maids are drawing you a hot bath, and breakfast should be up after you're done with that."  He brushed a lock of her hair back from her forehead and stared at her curiously for a moment.

"That sounds perfect.  Thank you, Rhett."  She tried to sound as sincere as possible, wanting him to know that she did truly appreciate how nice he was being.

Something flickered across his face that she couldn't quite decipher before he leaned down to kiss her, deeply.  She suddenly felt very hot under all the blankets.  Then, without another word, Rhett rose and left the room.  For another moment, she waited in the bed, wondering if he would return, before rising and quickly finding her wrapper.  Surrounding herself casually in its soft fabric, she roused herself and headed to the bath, which was sounding better every moment she was awake.

****
Chapter 13
****

Scarlett walked into here sitting room an hour later, dressed in the lovely dove gray dress Rhett had given her, feeling refreshed and relaxed.  Somehow, she wasn't startled to find Rhett sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the table next to the breakfast tray, reading a letter.

She cleared her throat as she settled onto the opposite end of the couch, and he swung his feet off the table with a smirk in her direction.  She smiled and reached for the plate of toast.  Before she could put butter and jam on a slice, Rhett had poured her a cup of coffee.

"Enjoy your bath?"

"Mmm," she replied, nodding to convey her response around a mouthful of toast.

"There's a telegram just arrived for you.  They brought it up with breakfast."

He returned to reading his own letter.  She took a sip of coffee before reaching for the telegram.  She couldn't fathom who would be sending one to her.

She opened the telegram with curiosity, then froze as the five words it contained sunk in.  The paper fluttered down from her hand as she rose and ran back to her bedroom.

Rhett found her throwing pieces of clothing into her valise with a manic fervor.  She jumped when he took hold of her arm, stilling her efforts.

"Scarlett, what's wrong?"

When she looked at him, she could feel the tears threatening to spill over her eyes.  With a deep breath, she answered, "Pa's sick.  I have to go back to Tara."

Rhett quickly pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.  He held her like delicate porcelain, a comfortably warm embrace, but any tighter and she would have shattered her brave front with a shower of tears.  "Finish packing.  I'll go down and make sure there's a carriage waiting to take you to the train station."

Without another word, he walked out of the room, leaving her staring after him, mouth gaping.  How did he always know just what she needed at any given moment?  He somehow managed to comfort her while allowing her to cope with her worry in her own way, supporting without any trace of control or condescension.  She threw a few more garments into the valise before heading for the sitting room.  Rhett was waiting for her there, his face expressionless.  She mustered a watery smile as she faced him across the room.

"All set?"  

With a wave at the battered valise, she asked, "I hope you don't mind that I'm taking a few of the newer things you've given me along."

"Not at all.  In fact," he reached into an inner jacket pocket and produced a wad of bills as he walked her to the door of the suite.  "Take this for whatever you might need, for you or your father."

She took the bills, eyes wide with astonishment.  The urge to count it was almost irrepressible, but she managed to stuff them in her bag quickly to count later.  One hand on the doorknob, she paused and turned to face him and gave him a fleeting kiss on the cheek.  "Thank you, Rhett.  Truly."

For just a moment, his expression seemed to soften, and she thought she could see some genuine feeling under the cynical veneer he maintained.  "You're welcome, Scarlett.  Anything you need."  His face returned to the blank poker face he wore so well before continuing, neutrally, "I hope to see you back in my company shortly.  I don't begrudge you going to your ill father, but it doesn't excuse your debt to me."

"Understood," she snapped, hastening out the door and slamming it behind her.  She walked as swiftly as was ladylike down the stairs and to the waiting carriage.

****
Chapter 14
****

Most of the ride to Tara was spent in contemplation.  The situation with Rhett had left her uncertain about her own feelings, and she knew that whatever was wrong with Pa, she would need her wits about her to deal with that situation.  A very small part of her that she studiously ignored wished Rhett had come with her, to help her face this new unknown.  Yet he had seemed confident in her ability to handle the situation when he sent her off with a kiss and a smirk.  And fifty dollars, an absolutely astonishing sum of money to have casually handed to her!

Scarlett sighed as she disembarked the train at Jonesboro.  Of course there was no one waiting for her, and she reluctantly parted with some of the money Rhett had given her to get to Tara.

Arriving at the porch, she could see no one around.  It was only when she stepped inside that she was met by Mammy, who took her valise and disappeared upstairs without a word.  She stood in the foyer for a few moments wondering what to do, until she heard voices in the parlor.  Quickly she crossed to the door and slid it open to find Melanie sitting and reading to Wade and Beau.

"Scarlett!"  She looked up from the book in astonishment.  "Welcome home.  Your sisters are upstairs with your father."

"Thank you, Melanie.  Hello, Wade," she greeted her son, before slipping back out the door.  As she climbed the stairs, she strained to hear any sounds, but was met only with silence.  She rapped once on her father's door before entering.

Suellen and Careen sat on either side of Pa's bed and barely glanced up as she entered the room.  Mammy stood off next to the washbasin, and it was she who approached Scarlett.  Scarlett eyed her warily, wondering why she'd said nothing upon her arrival moments ago.

"Your Pa was out ridin' dat Yankee hoss yesterday mornin' and you know dat animal warn't none too graceful to start with.  Neither's your Pa been too well balanced lately.  They jumped the fence down by the ole cow field, and Miss Melly, she was out on the porch with Wade an' Beau, and she said dat hoss slipped landin' and your Pa gone tumbling off.  Doc Fontaine been here an' mended his broken leg, but he ain't been awake since it happened," she lamented.

Scarlett looked at her father's pale from and the passive forms of her sisters for a long moment before asking, "And does he expect him to wake up?"

"He don't rightly know, Miss Scarlett.  He said every day he don't, less likely he will."

There was little more that Scarlett could do besides nod wearily and join her sisters at the bedside.  She brushed her hand across her father's forehead to no response, though she noticed that he felt fevered.  After half an hour, she left her sisters to care for him and went to her mother's office.

No notations had been made in the ledgers for Doctor Fontaine's visit, or for any other expenses in her absence.  She sighed and made a note to ask Will about expenditures--he would be most likely to know.  It frustrated her to know that no one could be bothered to do such simple things in the few days she'd been gone.  Surely someone should have better sense!

Abandoning the stuffy house she walked out the front door and around the back of the house, toward the makeshift stabling for the horses and cows.  She was mildly surprised to find Ashley there, bent over the horse that had belonged to the Yankee she'd shot last year.

"Hello, Scarlett.  I see you got the telegram."  He stood and faced her over the warped fencing.

"Yes."  She couldn't explain why it suddenly felt that there was a greater barrier than an old wood fence between them.  "It looks as if the horse fared better than Pa did."

"He's a bit lame, from the fall I suppose.  You'll have to keep an eye on him, but I think he'll be fine in a week or so."

"You seem to be doing well enough tending to him, Ashley.  I'm sure I'll do better to let you keep an eye on him."  She tried not to notice that he looked less handsome and certain here, covered with hay and dust, than she'd ever seen him.

"I was going to write and tell you, but since you've had to come home, I suppose it's best to tell you now.  A friend of mine has written and offered me a job at a bank in Baltimore.  We'll be leaving next week."  He stared at the horse as he spoke, not meeting her eyes.

He jaw dropped and for a second she panicked at the idea of Ashley's departure.  "But Ashley, don't you see, now more than ever how wonderful it is that you're here with us?"

"What good have I been to you, Scarlett?  I couldn't procure your tax money, or prevent your father's injury in your absence.  Indeed, it seems that I've been unable to do anything here at Tara that a common laborer couldn't do better, including tend this horse."

"Oh, Ashley, you know that's not true!  And how can you leave now, when you refused to leave with me just months ago!"  Her knuckles were white and she could feel splinters pressing into her skin as she gripped the fence.

"That's unfair, Scarlett.  This is an opportunity for my family.  I can take care of Melanie and Beau--"

"But you don't love them!"

He only gazed at her plaintively, one hand on the horse's bony shoulder, as if it could provide him some support he was essentially lacking.

"You don't love them, do you?"  Suddenly she was unsure of everything around her, and the old fence was the only thing keeping her upright.

"They're my family.  Surely you understand that feeling, as much as you've gone through for your own.  Your passion and joie de vivre will always have a special place in my heart, but I must do what is best for them."

She wanted to scream that it was not love that had kept her tied to Tara but obligation, obligations that were older and more important than whatever she might have wanted for herself.  In that instant, she realized that Ashley's love was more obligation than personal passion, and she released the fence and stepped back.  "Good luck in Baltimore, Ashley," she said coolly, and strode off, farther away from the house, into the fields that had once been full of cotton and were now being reclaimed by the low brush that marked the first return of wilderness to abandoned land.

Twilight was deepening the sky to indigo when she returned to the house and settled on the edge of the porch.  Stars were just beginning to appear, and she rested her head against one of the columns and stared up at them, ignoring the whitewash peeling off against her temple.  In the past twenty-four hours it seemed that everything she'd believed in had been turned on its head, and she found it reassuring that the stars still twinkled in the night sky.  She had enjoyed a night of unwed passion with Rhett, who'd treated her so tenderly, both then and when she'd fled in the face of this morning's telegram.  Her father, the last tie to her old life here, could possibly die.  And rather than staying and helping when the last thing keeping her old life together was fading, Ashley was leaving her to fend for herself, too frightened of whatever he might feel to admit anything more than an obligatory sort of love for Melanie and Beau.

As she looked out across the weedy expanse that had once been the gloriously manicured front lawn of Tara, she realized that she was tired of an obligatory sort of polite love.  She was tired of sublimating what she felt she needed to do to coincide with what everyone else expected of her.  She made a silent vow that she would begin rebuilding her life starting on the one passion she was certain of--her love of Tara.

She was on the verge of leaping up from the porch and ripping weeds up from the grass when warm hands settled a scratchy shawl about her shoulders.

"I don't want you to be catchin' cold in this damp spring air, Miss Scarlett.  Why don't you come in and check on your Pa.  Dinner'll be ready in just a bit."  Mammy rested her hand on top of the shawl with a firm touch before returning to the house.

After a moment, Scarlett rose and followed her back inside, heading for the stairs.  As she closed the door, she realized she'd eaten nothing all day except the bit of toast this morning before reading the telegram, and realized even the modest dinner that she could expect here would be very welcome.

****
Chapter 15
****

The next morning, Pa seemed to be doing even worse.  To her touch, he seemed even more fevered than the night before.  Scarlett urged Pork to fetch Doctor Fontaine to examine him again, and stood watching from the foot of the bed as he did so.  Her sisters stood quietly to one side, and Doctor Fontaine didn't address them at all as he poked and prodded their father.  It was Scarlett's eyes he met as he straightened and tucked his instruments back in their tattered black bag, flicking his gaze briefly to the door before speaking to her sisters.

"You girls are doing an excellent job caring for your father.  Keep up the good work and keep him comfortable."  With that he snapped his bag shut and headed for the door, Scarlett silently following.

When she closed the door behind them, Scarlett was all business.  "What do you really think of his condition?"

"I meant what I said about keeping him comfortable," he replied, meeting her tone with a serious tone of his own.  "That's really all you can do, I'm afraid.  His fever's worse, and together with the fact that he's been unconscious these last few days, it does not bode well at all.  I'd frankly be surprised if he's still with us tomorrow.  Then again, your father always was bound and determined to prove people wrong, and head injuries are notoriously difficult to make predictions about."

"Thank you for your help, and for being truthful with me," said Scarlett, leading him down the stairs.  "What do I owe you?"

He waved his hand then swung open the front door.  "Don't worry about that now.  Pork brought us a pair of nice chickens when he came to fetch me, consider yourselves paid up."

She nodded and saw him out before retreating to the office and its ledger.  Balancing the figures she'd filled in with the numbers Will had given her provided a brief distraction.  Looking at the totals, she wondered how to start to not simply repair but rebuild with the little money she had available.  A loose sheet in the back of the ledger ripped out easily, and she began making a list of projects that would need to be accomplished, from whitewashing the house to tending the lawns, and made a few rough calculations on the potential cotton crop.  She thought wearily of the amount of work involved and sighed.  

As she tapped the pen on the desk, she realized she ought to write Rhett.  But what to tell him?  There was no way she could return to Atlanta any time soon, not until something was resolved with Pa; if he died, she would truly become responsible for running things, not just doing things in her father's name.  She stared at the blank page for a long moment before all the details of the situation spilled out of her pen to him, flowing so quickly that the ink smudged in a few places.  Doing her best to make it clear that she wasn't shirking her debt to him, but felt more entangled by her responsibilities here.  For a moment, she hesitated over telling him of the Wilkes' eminent departure, but ultimately could not contain sharing her displeasure at Ashley's behavior.  Rhett would understand her anger at being deceived in sentiment all these years, she felt sure.

She was just sealing the letter when a soft knock came at the door and Melanie stepped in.  "Scarlett?"

"Yes?"  she snapped, then regretted it.  It was not Melanie's fault that Ashley had a poor understanding of his own feelings, and Melanie had been the least demanding of all Tara's inhabitants.  "I'm sorry, Melly.  It's just that there's so much taxing me right now..."

"Of course, darling, I don't mean to trouble you.  Your sisters asked me to fetch you when I took some water up for your father," Melanie explained, calm as ever.

"Thank you.  I'll be right up."  She left the envelope on the blotter and hurried up the stairs, wondering how he could possibly be any worse.

In his bed, she could see where sweat had soaked through the sheets as her sisters sat idly by, wringing their hands and praying.  For all the good that would do, she thought with a sigh of disgust.  Scarlett grabbed a cloth and soaked it in the wash basin, then placed it across Gerald's forehead.  She half expected it to steam as she did so, hot as he felt.  She recalled Doctor Fontaine's words and turned to Suellen.  "Sue, go find Pork and ask him to bring up something for Pa.  Brandy or whiskey or something."

Suellen glared, but sullenly left the room.  Scarlett settled into her chair and watched her father sweat.  Careen stared at her from across the bed, seeming as frightened by Scarlett's cool assurance as by her father's illness.  Scarlett paid her no heed, and when Pork entered, she calmly took the bottle of whiskey and filled a glass, taking a sip for herself before placing it to Gerald's lips.  He drank half the glass before she pulled it away and finished it off herself, the liquor burning its way down her throat.  After swapping the cloth on his forehead for a new one, she drifted to the foot of the bed, feeling helpless and idle.  

By evening her helplessness was replaced by grief, though she no longer felt purposeless.  Everyone seemed to be rudderless in the face of their loss, but Scarlett studiously ignored her sorrow and focused on what needed to be done.  She'd sent Will into town to telegram the few family members she knew how to contact, and to mail her letter to Rhett.  With haste, she sent notice to the neighbors and wondered how they could feed everyone at a funeral in two days.  It was only when she retired to bed that she allowed herself to weep over the loss of her last vestiges of parental love, protection and support.  What had been in her youth was irrevocably gone, and she wept for that loss as much as for the loss of her father, who'd in truth had been lost as the same time she lost her mother.

****
Chapter 16
****

The day of the funeral had dawned, appropriately enough, cold and dreary.  Scarlett was pleased by the number of neighbors and family friends who had appeared to mourn the passing of her father.  She was distantly aware of the sea of faces drifting away from the graveside as Pork and Will began filling it in under her somber gaze, but jumped at a strong, warm hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry about your father, Scarlett."  Rhett's voice was warm and comforting, and it took all her willpower not to collapse against him.

"What are you doing here?" In trying to contain her weakness and shock, her tone was harsher than she'd intended, and she regretted it the instant the words had left her lips.

Rhett, however, seemed nonplussed by her tone as he took her arm and led her towards the house.  "I got your letter and thought it only proper I come pay my respects.  From what little time I spent with him when he was in Atlanta, he was quite the man."

"Yes, he was, then."  She walked slowly, and he kept pace beside her, letting her linger on the lawn before approaching the house.  "He hadn't been well since Mother died, though.  You know I'd been the one running everything."

"So very little will change for you, then," he said, softly.

She shook her head violently and pulled away from him.  "No, Rhett.  Everything's changed.  Pa was the last bit of what I had before the war, even if he wasn't quite the same.  That chance to make everything what it was before is really and truly gone now.  Look around," she said, sweeping her hand across the view in front of them, "there's so much to be done here that I haven't the first clue how to make happen.  And no one else is even willing to help try!"

"Yes, I understand that even the gallant Ashley Wilkes is abandoning you here."  There was a sudden, nasty edge in his voice, and it touched her already frayed nerves.  

She wheeled to face him, anger crackling in her posture, though her voice remained frighteningly controlled.  "I'll be regretting the loss of labor here, not that it was worth much.  Well, Melly was helpful to tend the children and do the mending so the rest of us could work, but Ashley might as well have done nothing for all the work it took to fix what he did wrong."

Rhett stopped and stared at her, surprise evident on his face.  "What's this now?  Unkind words for the beloved Mr. Wilkes?"

"He made it quite clear that he wouldn't know love if he tripped over it!  He--he had the nerve to tell me that his love was something stemming from obligation not from any passion.  I've already got plenty of obligation, thank you."  She pivoted on her heel and took two steps before Rhett caught her arm.  

There was an odd light in his eyes as he asked her, "So you're no longer in love with him?"

Scarlett nibbled her lower lip and lost herself in thought; she'd not considered it from quite that angle.  Wrapping an arm through Rhett's, she pulled him along past the house as she considered.  Finally she answered, "I don't love him the way I thought I always did.  He talked about love like an obligation, maybe the way I love my sisters, and perhaps I still do love him that way.  But I know I love Tara, and that's something I feel so strongly that I'm willing to...well, you know."  She gestured to him with her free hand and blushed before continuing, "And I know that he doesn't evoke that sort of feeling in me."

"You make decisions like a general, Scarlett.  It's all reasoning, precision, and decisiveness with you."

Furrowing her brows, she asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

He patted her hand where it rested on his arm with a laugh.  "Just that had I asked you that question a week ago, you would have assured me he was the love of your life.  But as soon as you have evidence to support you, you're able to realize otherwise and move on."

Genuine worry occurred to her for the first time following a revelation to Rhett.  "Do I really come across so heartlessly?"

"Some people might view it as rather cold and calculating.  I find it rather refreshing that you're able to be sensible and analytical about the relationships in your life and make decisions based on facts, not on intangibles."

"But I really don't know what's best for me right now, just that it certainly isn't Ashley, if it ever was.  And my mother would be so ashamed at how callous everyone would think me if they knew," she said quietly.

"Scarlett," he said, tipping her chin up to face him, "you're a smart, resourceful woman.  You've been married, widowed, a mother, delivered your nephew, evacuated right through an enemy army, survived the war, kept your family alive and your property in your possession, and have run it yourself for the last couple of years.  I don't see how your mother would be anything but proud of how compassionately you've treated everyone who's needed your help."

Tears that had been threatening to spill over for the past two days suddenly filled her eyes at his words of admiration.  "You really think so?"

"I do.  Your mother was a wise woman who loved you, and she couldn't have done better for everyone than you have.  I think you're perhaps a bit more like her than you realize."

The threatening tears trailed heavily down her cheeks as she buried her face in Rhett's chest, her arms clinging tightly to his strong frame.  He held her for a long time, as she cried out all the grief and confusion of the last few years.  It took several more minutes for her to regain the ability to speak, her face still buried against his chest, voice little more than a whisper, "That's the best compliment anyone's ever paid me, and one I'd never expected to hear."

"Then those complimenting you must not have known you very well."  He kissed the top of her head, then loosened his embrace.  "Come, we'd better be getting back to the house, before everyone begins to worry."

****
Chapter 17
****

That night, Scarlett sat in the office, ostensibly working, but doing little more than nursing the glass of brandy sitting in front of her.  The rest of the house had retired long ago, and she wasn't worried by her lack of productivity.  She nearly spilled the glass when there was a knock at the door.

With a sigh, she called, "Enter."  She knew before the door opened that it would be Rhett.  He was the only one who would be awake at this hour, or who would dare disturb her when everyone knew that she was both working and upset.  His arrival wasn't really unpleasant, but she'd really been hoping that she could spend the evening without his presence clouding her already confused mind.  Everything seemed to be in flux, and she wanted to get back on firm ground before further addressing whatever was happening between them.  For there, too, she realized things were changing in ways she couldn't quite figure out.

Rhett didn't say anything as he walked across the office and settled on to one corner of the desk.  She could tell he was studying her, but she refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the glass of alcohol in front of her.  That option was eliminated when Rhett took the glass from her and finished it in one smooth motion.

Then, she did look at him and was surprised to see nothing but sympathy on his face.  Sighing, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes.

"You were quieter this evening than I've ever seen you.  How are you doing?"  Rhett's voice was smooth, enticing her to answer.

"I don't know.  Everyone's expecting me to carry right on running things without taking a moment to feel anything.  And when I try to make time, I just end up thinking about everything I have to carry on doing."

"You're just exhausted, Scarlett.  That abysmal excuse for brandy won't help you half as much as sleep will."

She mustered a thin smile.  "It is terrible brandy, isn't it?"

"I'm not quite sure it's even deserving of the name."  He smiled and reached out to pull her up from the chair.  She gladly took it and rose, relaxing into the warm touch of his hand where it settled on her waist.

His hand rested there, warm and supporting, as he guided her upstairs and to her door.  The hand remained as she swung the door open, and she turned in the doorway to whisper with some trepidation, "Were you planning on joining me?"

Even in the dim light, she could see the carefully neutral look on his face as he answered, "Do you want me to?"

She froze, impulses waging war within her.  The brandy had not been enough to intoxicate her into thinking that his spending the night with her here would be a good idea.  Yet when Rhett was being nice like this, she knew no one more likely to help her find a peaceful night's sleep.  The liquor had loosened her inhibitions enough to finally ask, "Would you just hold me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course."  His hand slid up from her waist to rest gently between her shoulders as he followed her into the room.  Indeed, there was nothing sexual at all about his touch as he helped her undress for bed, just a tender helpfulness.  Upon climbing under the covers, she was surprised when he merely slipped off his shoes and chastely lay down on top of the blankets.  When she snuggled closer to him, laying her heavy head on his chest, she could feel his rumbling laugh as much as hear it.

"Comfortable?"

She knew she'd drunk too much when she unthinkingly responded, "Mmm.  I feel very safe right here."

"I'm glad."  He softly kissed the top of her head.

After a brief silence, she murmured, "Tell me a story, Rhett.  I like hearing you talk."

He obliged, whispering just loudly enough for her to hear.  One of his arms wrapped around her as he spoke, caressing her back.  Every so often, the tips of his fingers would brush the edge of her breast, just frequently enough that she knew it was deliberate.  She was vaguely aware of him kissing the top of her head once more as she drifted off to sleep, with visions of Rhett pirating across the sea playing in her head.

When she woke she was curled around the pillow Rhett had been reclining against the night before, the only trace of him his lingering scent on the pillow.  Bright light streamed through the windows, telling her it was later than she'd slept in a long time.

The post was piled on a table in the hall, and she collected her mail and deposited it on her desk before heading to the kitchen to scrounge up breakfast.  Suellen watched her oddly as she ate a leftover biscuit, casting furtive glances over from where she was making bread.

"Good heavens, what is it Suellen?  Am I not allowed to have breakfast because I wake up late one morning?"  Scarlett's temper, always short with her sister, got the better of her.  Had she been less hungry, she would have tossed the half-eaten biscuit on the floor, but settled for shoving the rest in her mouth and storming back to her office.

There, she settled in behind the desk and sorted through the mail, tossing the few bills to one side before noticing a letter for her, in a vaguely familiar hand.  She opened it to find a letter from Frank Kennedy.  He sent his condolences for the loss of Mr. O'Hara, and requested her permission, as new head of the house, to ask for Suellen's hand in marriage.  Suddenly the odd looks Suellen was giving her made more sense; surely Frank would have written and let Suellen know he was going to ask permission to marry her.

She laid the letter on the desk and frowned at it.  Frank's timing was improper at best, and suggested nothing so much as pity to her.  Yet she knew he was sincere in his sentiments, and it might just be advantageous to marry Suellen.  Finding paper and a pen, she jotted down some figures, calculating the savings at the departure of Suellen and the Wilkes against the cost of hiring someone to help in the fields.  It was not overly startling to realize that it would indeed be more practical for all of them to depart and for her to hire someone.

Scarlett stalked back to the kitchen, where Suellen had been joined in her culinary efforts by Mammy and Dilcey.  "Suellen, may I speak to you alone?" 

Without waiting for a response, she left the kitchen, secure in the knowledge that Suellen would follow.  Sure enough, Suellen's footfalls echoed behind hers on the way back to her office.  Only when she reached her desk did Scarlett turn to sit and face Suellen.

"I suppose you've had a letter from Mr. Kennedy as well, Suellen?"

"I have," Suellen answered sharply.

Scarlett picked up her pen and tapped it on the desk.  "Then you know he wrote me, too, asking to marry you?"  Suellen nodded and she continued, "I've got no reason to say no to either of you, if you want to marry him."

"I don't see how you'd have the right to tell me no anyhow.  Mother and Pa always wanted us to marry, and if it weren't for the war, we'd already be."

"You needn't be nasty about it.  I'll write to him this afternoon to make arrangements," Scarlett glared at her over the desk.

"You just write and tell him yes.  You're not arranging my wedding!  I'll write him myself for about that."  Suellen rose haughtily and flounced out of the room.

Sighing, Scarlett began her letter to Frank Kennedy, gladly looking forward to ceding responsibility for Suellen to him.

****
Chapter 18
****

Scarlett should have expected Rhett to find her, even having wandered out into the middle of Tara's acreage.  The shade of the old oak had been a welcoming place to pause in her walk across the terrain, and it was just as easy to avoid seeing anyone sitting there as while walking.  Yet Rhett always managed to find her.

He said nothing as he sat down next to her, looking warily at the ground before perching carefully on an exposed bit of root.  She studiously ignored him and watched the sea of weeds in front of her sway in the afternoon breeze.

"Your sister was certainly happy at lunch today."

"I'll be just as happy when she's gone and I can afford to hire someone to do some real work around here."

Rhett let out a boisterous laugh.  "Scarlett, you never cease to amaze me."

She glared at him before smiling herself.  "Well, it's the truth.  With her and the Wilkes gone, I can afford to hire someone else to work in the fields.  That will be of far more benefit to everyone than Suellen's whining is."

Grinning, Rhett reached for her, then pulled her close to him and began to kiss her.  Some of the kisses were soft and quick, barely grazing her forehead.  Others connected full on her lips, lingering and inflaming her.  She returned them when she could, aware that while there was still a chance of someone seeing them here like this, the chance was remote. 

"I hope you're planning on paying your debts to me before spending money on an hiring someone," he said, emphasizing his statement with a kiss on the bridge of her nose.

She pulled away, frowning.  "I don't know how I can, Rhett.  With everyone here leaving, I can't just pick up and go back to Atlanta for a month.  There won't be enough people here to do everything."

Rhett frowned and tightened his grip on her arm, all traces of pleasantness suddenly erased from his countenance.  "I hope you are not suggesting that I simply forgive what you owe me."

"Oh, no Rhett, not at all!  But...couldn't you maybe take what's happened as a--a down payment of sorts?  And then I'll repay you in cash after we sell the cotton this year."  Every bit of charm she could muster was on display, and she fervently hoped it was enough.  Rhett Butler was not an easy man to charm.

"I don't give a damn about the money," he said, frighteningly calm.  Suddenly, he crushed her to him and captured her lips with his.  The kiss was more intense than any they'd shared, and Scarlett couldn't help but wrap her arms around him in response, her mind reeling.  Just as abruptly, he broke the kiss, saying, "I give a damn about being able to do that whenever I like."

Scarlett shifted slightly away from him, loosening her embrace of him, and studied his face while she caught her breath.  There was something fiery and wild in his eyes, and she thought of her lament days earlier on Ashley's lack of passion.  Here was passion staring her in the face, if she was willing to accept it.  "And what solution would you propose, Rhett?"

"Perhaps I should just propose."  The light in his eyes didn't dim, but a grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Oh, do be serious!  How many times have you made it clear that you'd never do such a thing?"  She pulled away in frustration and started to walk away when he caught her arm.  Almost violently, he spun her to face him, and she was reminded that despite how gentle he often was with her, he was just as capable of overpowering her.

"What if I'm serious?" he growled, eyes boring into her face.  They locked with hers, and she couldn't look away.

Fear tingled on the edge of her sensory perception as she met his eyes and responded with all the honesty she possessed, "I tried to get you to ask to marry me when I asked you for the money, and you wouldn't have me!  If you're being sincere, things being what they are, I can't think of anyone I'd rather marry.  If you're just teasing me once more, you can take your hands off me and leave Tara this instant."

Unexpectedly, Rhett released her and burst out laughing.  She stood staring at him, brow furrowed in a mix of anger and confusion.  Just as she was on the verge of storming away, he spoke.

"Even up against the wall, you're still nothing but frank.  If I didn't know better, I'd never believe there's anything in this world that scares you.  And yet," he stepped to her side and tilted her chin up, "you've candidly revealed your vulnerabilities for me."

She continued to stare at him, defiant.  Where he was going with all this, she had no clue, but she was more determined than ever not to betray anything of herself.

"What do you really think of me, Scarlett?"

She considered, and decided to prod at his perceived vulnerabilities.  "I think...I think that you're much kinder than you'd like anyone to realize, and you hide it by being mean and nasty all the time.  You've always helped me when I needed you, and have been nicer than I had any right to expect, for all you try to hide it.  And," she hesitated an instant, then plunged ahead, heedless, "you're probably my best friend, Rhett.  I've told you things that I'd die before admitting to anyone else."

"Do you love me?"

She bit down on her lip at the unexpected question.  "I--I'm not sure I know what that means, really."  Finally, she looked away from him, staring at the ground.  How had their conversation taken this bizarre turn?  And why must he ask her questions just as she was beginning to sort out matters for herself?

"Why do you say that?"

"A week ago, it would have been so much easier to answer.  I loved Ashley and Tara and Pa.  But now I don't love Ashley at all, and Pa's dead, and I'm left with Tara, and then there's you.  I don't feel at all the way about you I did about Ashley, but I enjoy being around you like no one else, and you're so good to me."

"What if I said that I, too, enjoy being around you more than anyone else and would like to marry you?"

"I'd say yes."

"Then it's settled."  Rhett kissed her again, deeply as before.  She happily returned his kiss, still unsure of whether she was really engaged to Rhett now.  When they separated, he wrapped his arm around her and led her back toward the house.

****
Chapter 19A
****

As Suellen spent the evening spinning plans for her wedding to Frank Kennedy, Scarlett's mind was occupied with the more practical aspects of a marriage to Rhett.  Surely he wouldn't want to stay at Tara, for she knew he had business dealings that would be difficult to track so far away from any cities.  And he'd told her he had no use for a farm.  But she couldn't just abandon Tara to hired help, either.

With the faintest of excuses, Scarlett abandoned the parlor and fled to her office to think.  Neither she nor Rhett had mentioned the proposal, and a small part of her hoped it could simply be ignored for a while.  Knowing Rhett, however, she knew that the chances of that happening were miniscule.  Perhaps if he were willing to wait a little while, they could work out some compromise.  

Scarlett sighed and poured herself a brandy.  Just as she was taking the first sip, a knock sounded at the door, exactly the same as the night before.  "Come in, Rhett," she called without a glance at the door.

He approached her desk and poured himself a glass of brandy under her watchful gaze.  Rhett said nothing, simply took his drink and settled on the settee, watching her in return.

"Oh, we're not children!" she finally cried in frustration.  Huffily, she rose from her accustomed chair and joined him on the settee, sitting at the far opposite end.  "What do you want?"

"While I've been charmed by this rural interlude, I have business to attend in Atlanta and will be returning there tomorrow.  I thought we might discuss our impending nuptials before I depart."

"Suellen would be terribly upset if I did anything to overshadow her wedding, Rhett, especially since this would be my second.  Could we put off doing anything about it for a little while?"

Over the edge of his glass, Rhett watched her carefully.  "You're not trying to change your mind."

"No, Rhett, nothing like that, really!  I want the last time I spend sharing a roof with her to be as peaceful as possible, that's all.  And it's so taxing to plan a wedding, let alone two of them."

"I have the matter of those properties in Atlanta to settle, and a few other deals to work out anyway.  Would two months be enough time to have sister Sue married off?"

After a moment's consideration, she nodded.  "I think that's quite possible."

The house had fallen silent before they finished ironing out the details of their marriage.  Two months had seemed a suitable time frame for getting Suellen married and arranging for some basic help at Tara, enough to allow her and Rhett a nice honeymoon.  Rhett agreed to tell no one of their arrangement until he returned at the end of June with an engagement ring.  Much to Scarlett's delight, he easily agreed to spend their first year of marriage living at Tara, journeying into Atlanta once a week or so to take care of his business affairs.  She hoped by that time that the situation would be comfortable enough that he would be happy staying permanently, or would wish to move no farther than Atlanta so that Tara was close enough to serve as a weekend and holiday home.

With the same casual air as he'd discussed the arrangements for their marriage, Rhett took their glasses and placed them on the sideboard.  Then, turning to her, he asked, "Are you ready for bed, Scarlett?"

Owl-like, she blinked at him before nodding and standing.  Thinking better on her feet, she looked at him curiously.  "With you?"

"We are engaged now."  He crossed the room back to her in two steps and surrounded her in his strong embrace.  After a quick kiss, he said, "And we won't have the chance for two more months."

"I suppose I could be agreeable to that.  As long as no one finds out," she said solemnly.

He chuckled and pulled away to look at her from arms' length.  "Such the little hypocrite.  You don't mind sleeping with me, but heaven forbid anyone know you're sharing a bed with your future husband."

"Oh, don't be wicked.  I'd be ruined!  And then there'd be no chance of me helping anyone around here anymore."  She spun away from him and quickly disappeared down the hall.  It was only on the stairs that he caught up to her, and she had to stifle a squeal of surprise when he pinned her against the wall in the darkness.

Saying nothing, he kissed her deeply, her lips easily opening under his after a moment of resistance.  By the time Rhett broke away, it was only his arms and the wall keeping her standing.  When he offered her his arm and led her silently to her room, she took it gratefully.

****
****
Chapter 20
****

The next two months did fly by for all the remaining O'Hara sisters.  All of them traveled to Atlanta for Suellen's wedding.  Scarlett and Careen spent the week at Aunt Pittypat's, and often Scarlett would find herself sitting on the porch in the afternoons, waiting for Rhett to ride up as he so often had during the War.

Careen had found her there one afternoon, lost in thought.  Scarlett was startled out of her reverie when Careen settled next to her.  She'd always been the quietest sister, and it was in a gentle tone that reminded Scarlett of her mother that Careen asked, "Scarlett, may I speak with you?"

"Of course, Careen."

"I've been thinking, since Suellen's engagement, about what I want to do.  I know that you want to stay at Tara and keep it running, but I know that's not for me.  Even before we got sick, I'd been discussing with Mother the possibility of entering the convent in Savannah.  We thought it would be best to wait until the War was over, and now that things have settled down, I'd like to go," Careen explained, calmly, as if discussing what she was planning for dinner rather than her future.

At first, Scarlett had refused to let her, watching sourly as she fled into the house in tears.  But as she sat and stared at nothing, she realized that all of them had the right to move on with their lives and do what they wanted, just as she wanted to marry Rhett and restore Tara.  If her sister felt equally passionately about becoming a nun, who was she to deny her that?  She returned inside and found Careen in the parlor with Mammy.

"Careen, do you truly want to go live in the convent?  You're sure you don't want to marry some day, or stay here in Atlanta a bit and see if something else appeals to you?"

Careen looked at her curiously, then shook her head.  "No, Scarlett, I wouldn't.  I made this decision, I've just been waiting for the right time to follow through on it."

Scarlett sighed in the face of her little sister's determination.  "Fine, go become a nun if you'd like.  It's not my place to keep any of you from being happy."

When Careen rose calmly and embraced her, Scarlett began to understand that this decision was quite suited to her sister.  She returned the embrace and began to wonder what it would be like alone at Tara.

****

Two weeks before Rhett's scheduled return, Scarlett found herself the last O'Hara at Tara.  She'd had little time to herself, finding tasks accomplished previously by both her sisters left to her to handle.  Wade had become her shadow, which at times annoyed her, but gradually she'd realized over the past week that it was practical to keep him close to her.  The more time she spent with him, the more she came to realize that he was growing into a rather agreeable child, despite the hardships that he'd been growing up under.

It was while listening to Wade read from a book of simple nursery rhymes that she allowed her mind to drift, occasionally helping him when he fumbled over a word.  She'd not been feeling well recently, not since going to Atlanta for Suellen's wedding.  Despite the lingering illness, she'd kept up a grueling pace, trying to arrange everything for her sister's move to the convent and workers for Tara, as well as provide for immediate needs.  It was enough for her that she was sitting here listening to Wade read before bedtime, for she knew that it was her presence that made him happy, even if he did not have her full attention.

She tried to give him her full attention as he finished the story and she dimmed the lamp.  "Goodnight, darling.  Mother loves you," she said, kissing his forehead.

"Goodnight, Mother," Wade echoed into the darkness as she slipped out the door.

It was not yet late enough for her to go to bed, and she made her way downstairs to her office.  Flipping between the ledger and the calendar, she froze and looked again at the dates.  Surely it could not have been two months since her last flux!  She'd noticed it was a bit late, of course, but with as busy as she'd been, she'd not troubled further with the idea, and had not missed it.  Yet the dates on the calendar were incriminating, and the lingering illness suddenly seemed much less mysterious.

God's nightgown, what could she do?  From whispered rumors, she knew there were ways to end undesired pregnancies, but those rumors were always whispered after girls had died attempting to do so, and Scarlett was not so foolish as that.  Even if she'd wanted to, there was no one here with such knowledge, and she certainly couldn't go to Atlanta.  Rhett would arrive in two weeks, but even if they married the day he arrived, a child seven months later would raise eyebrows and tarnish reputations.  Children were sometimes early, but never that early.  And what would Rhett think about it?  They'd not discussed children, and she had never heard him mention the desire for any, though he was good enough with Wade.

Unconsciously, her left hand came to rest across her lower abdomen.  She'd not thought she wanted more children, and felt ambivalent towards the son she did have.  Yet the possibility of a child with Rhett was not so terrifying, as she imagined a spoiled little girl with dark curls and green eyes.  

Her eyes drifted over the ledger and notebook of plans for Tara, and she was brought back to reality.  She was still hanging onto subsistence by a thin thread, with big plans for the future and no time to be ill or confined to bed.  And what if Rhett didn't want a child?  Happy as he seemed spending time with her and willing as he was to marry her, a child significantly altered the equation.  Especially when having one would implicate their premarital relations and endanger any social future the child might have.

She wanted to write to Rhett, to spill out all her concerns and ask for his thoughts and advice.  As she took up pen and paper, however, she realized that she had no idea where he might be.  He wasn't in Atlanta last month when they were up, and she could only assume he was traveling to wrap up business before settling down at Tara for a while.

With an unexpectedly steady hand, she replaced the pen and rose from the desk, heading for bed.  The next two weeks couldn't pass quickly enough for her.

****
Chapter 21
****

The two weeks preceding Rhett's return did pass quickly for Scarlett, who kept herself busy in spite of her suspected pregnancy.  Now that she believed she was pregnant, and not ill, she didn't worry so much about working hard.  It fact, she was coming in from the field for lunch one afternoon that she heard hoof beats on the drive.  Knowing it must be Rhett, she splashed a bit of water on her face and hurried to the front of the house to meet him.

He was tying up the horse when she opened the front door, and the brim of his hat shaded his eyes as he looked up at her.  The smile he offered seemed genuine, and Scarlett met it with one of her own as she greeted him.

"Have you missed me, then?" he asked, kissing her quickly on the cheek.

She pulled away from him and turned for the house.  "The house has been very quiet now that both my sisters are gone," she answered evasively.

"Scarlett."  He caught her wrist and arrested her movement, stepping close to tower over her.  When she tried to look away from his intense gaze, he tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes.  "What's the matter?  Have things been bad here?"

"No, no, nothing like that at all.  Things are going very well, and I've got more help hired.  I'm just...you should come inside, then we can talk."  She pulled away and stepped into the cool hallway, where they were met by Pork, who quickly relieved Rhett of his suitcase.  She wondered how long he'd been there, watching, but she dismissed the worry; she had larger concerns right now.

Rhett followed her silently into the dining room, where Wade was waiting patiently.  He must have heard the horse on the drive, and Scarlett could see his barely-contained excitement at a visitor, yet he remembered his manners and sat politely.

"Good afternoon, Wade.  What's for lunch today?" queried Rhett, settling into a chair near the boy.

"Hello, Captain Butler.  There are chicken sandwiches today."

Lunch was an awkward affair, as both Scarlett and Rhett tried to find topics of conversation safe for young ears.  Most of the time was spent catching up on Suellen's wedding and Careen's departure for Savannah, interspersed with Wade's polite responses to Rhett's inquiries about his adventures at Tara.  He had been speaking of his morning helping brush the horses, and he readily returned to the barn at Scarlett's suggestion once the table was cleared.

Still too quiet for Scarlett's liking, Rhett followed her to the office, and she could feel him watching her as she locked the door behind them.  Ignoring her desire to hide by sitting in her desk chair, she settled on the couch a safe distance from him and sighed.

Unexpectedly, Rhett slid to the floor and began fishing in his coat pocket.  Removing something, he took her hand and said, "I make no pretense of being an expert in how this should be done.  But I'm here to ask you to marry me, Scarlett."  Easily, he slipped a ring onto her finger.

For a moment, she sat staring at the lovely marquise cut diamond flanked by two emeralds, large enough that she knew it was extravagantly expensive, but still quite tasteful.  It was a striking contrast to her work-battered hands, with torn nails and calloused fingers.

After she'd stared at the ring in silence for what seemed a small eternity, Rhett asked, "Scarlett?"

"It's beautiful, Rhett.  But there's something that I need to speak with you about before I can accept this."  Reluctantly, she slipped the ring back off her finger and handed it shakily to Rhett, who enveloped her trembling hand with his own as he rose and settled beside her on the couch once more.

He gently caressed the back of her hand, and waited for her to speak.  There was nothing demanding about his posture, only an expectant waiting that instilled a slight confidence in Scarlett.  With a deep breath and closed eyes, the words tumbled from her lips.  "I think I'm pregnant.  We never discussed anything about children.  I know you're good to Wade, but nothing was said about any of our own, and I never really wanted any more and have no idea how you feel about them.  There's also no way to hide that I was pregnant long before we were married when this child is born, but I can't not have this child, either.  And everyone--"  Her tone was growing hysterical and tears threatened, as she choked up and tried to find the words to continue.

"Shh, Scarlett," he interrupted her, drawing her close and wrapping her in his arms.  "It makes no difference to me if we have no children or twenty.  Do you want this child?"

Sniffling, she pulled away to look at him.  "You don't care at all about having children?"

"That's not exactly what I said.  And I asked what you wanted."  His voice was flatter and more emotionless than she'd ever heard it.

"There's no way I could.... I'm having a baby, but what will everyone say?  Everyone will know we were together, and the whole family's reputation will be ruined!"

"What if we were married at the courthouse tomorrow, and went on a nice long tour of Europe?  The baby would be born there, we could stay for a while, and until we returned, dates would be a distant memory."

"Oh, Rhett, do be serious!"

"I'm being perfectly serious."

"I've just hired help, I can't abandon Tara.  And what about Wade?  I couldn't just leave him, and he needs to start school.  Besides, someone would eventually put dates together."

"What would you like to do, then?"

"I'd like for this never to have happened!" she cried, twisting out of his arms to bury her face in her hands.  Trying to control her tears, she continued, "Just when everything seemed to be going right, when I had a chance to be happy."

Gently, Rhett pulled her back into his arms, and she buried her face against his chest.  "You're more worried about what the world will think than about the simple fact you're pregnant."

"How can I ignore that?"

"If we're married when this child is born, the gossip won't be as bad, certainly not out here in the country.  From what you've told me, you have the respect of your neighbors, who also don't seem the sort to judge as harshly as Atlanta society might.  And as my wife, you won't have to work so hard to make sure things in your life go right.  I want to help take care of things."

"Truly?"  She ventured a hopeful glance at his face.

"Truly.  I want to see you happy, not miserable like this."

With a supreme effort she mustered a watery smile, appreciative of the sentiment.  Then she plunged ahead with the question that was still troubling her.  "What do you think about our having a baby now?"

"While this is not the timing I would have chosen," he conceded, "I can't say I'm unhappy about it.  I do like children, but if we never had any of our own, I would have been just as happy to raise Wade as our only child."

"You do want it!"

"You say that like you're surprised."

"I am, a little, Rhett.  You've just never seemed the sort.  You said you weren't the marrying kind, so I assumed that you wouldn't be the fathering kind either.  I thought it might be too much all together, and that you'd leave."

"Scarlett, don't ever make assumptions about what I'll do or think.  Don't ever be afraid to ask me about anything.  There's no faster route to misunderstandings and conflict than making assumptions about other people."

She nodded slightly and settled back against him.  "If I have to have a baby, I'm glad it's yours.  Think how pretty she'll be."

Rhett laughed, pulling her close, then put one warm hand on her lower abdomen over her skirts.  She knew he couldn't feel anything yet--she barely could herself, even undressed--but the gesture was touching just the same.  "And just think how horribly difficult she will be to discipline."

"Fiddle-dee-dee, I can't see you disciplining anyone."

Laughing again, he agreed.  "Probably not.  I'm far too indulgent of those I care about.  Why else would I be marrying you?"  He slipped the ring back on her finger and kissed her hand.

"You care about me?  And not just because of the baby?"

"I asked you to marry me before you told me anything about that."

Scarlett sat up a bit straighter in his arms and kissed him then, softly meeting his lips.  Rhett pulled her up onto his lap and deepened the kiss, her lips parting under his.  There was a tenderness she'd not experienced before with him, and she felt blissfully loved sitting in his embrace.

She pulled away abruptly.  "You love me."  It was not a question.

"Yes."  He kissed her again.  "I do.  Why else would I be so indulgent?"

She laughed and punched him softly on the shoulder.  "You're a horrible man, Rhett Butler."

"And you love me for it."  He smirked at her mock-disapproval.

"Yes, I do," she echoed his response back, unthinking, then froze.  She'd not fully realized it herself, but her subconscious had known and answered for her.

"We'll be well prepared for our wedding vows, then," he laughed, kissing her again.

****
****
Chapter 23
****

Scarlett woke as the dawn was breaking, as she'd become accustomed to doing.  But, turning slightly so that she was fully on her side, she felt Rhett's arms tighten around her, and she allowed herself to sink back against his chest and return to slumber.

When she next awoke, Rhett's kisses were tickling their way down her neck, and the room was bright with morning sunlight.  She still felt no need to leave the comfort of his embrace, merely brought one of his hands up from where it rested at her waist and kissed his roughened fingertips before releasing it.  It skimmed, tantalizingly, over her breast before returning to her waist.

"Good morning."

"Mmm, good morning.  What time is it?  This is later than I've slept in months!"

"Don't worry about it.  You need to rest," Rhett kissed her cheek and moved away from her, rising from the bed.  "I'll take care of sending breakfast up for you.  Just relax this morning."

She rolled over and watched him dress, the play of his muscles as he bent and buttoned.  When he turned to flash her a sly grin before opening the door, she reciprocated.

A smile still lingered on her lips when Rhett returned with her breakfast, and grew when she saw the quantity of food he'd brought for her.

"Heavens, Rhett, I'll be as big as a house if I eat all this!"

"To hell with that while you're pregnant.  Eat as much as you want."  Emphasizing the point, he offered her a forkful of eggs.

Even while chewing, the smile lingered.  "This is more spoiled than I've been at home since before the war.  And no one fed my breakfast to me even then.  I could get used to this."  She nestled deeper into the pillows, taking a tentative sip of coffee then blowing across the cup of steaming liquid.

"Being spoiled agrees with you so much more than slaving away here.  Are you sure you don't want to let me take you to Europe and spoil you there?"  Rhett traced a tempting finger across her collarbones before offering up another bite of egg.

"Mmm," Scarlett bought time to think, chewing slowly.  The idea of escaping her daily reality was a tempting one, but was it truly the right choice to make?  "We've discussed this, Rhett, and I just don't see how I can right now.  It's such a tempting offer, but I can't see how it's the responsible thing to do."

Abruptly, Rhett sat up and shifted away from her, tilting his head to stare at her.  "I don't believe you're the real Scarlett O'Hara!  Where's my fun-loving belle of the ball?"

She sighed and pushed the breakfast tray away from her, to rest a hand on her stomach.  "She's had a few years of having to think about everyone but herself, and is responsible for too many people now to just up and leave them, much as she'd like to."

"And a marvelous job you've done taking care of everyone but yourself.  Maybe I'd like to see that you're just as well taken care of, hmm?"  Rhett leaned in to kiss her cheek before continuing, "And we can make sure things are in capable hands while we're away."

"Do you really think so?" she asked warily, toying with the edge of the sheet and avoiding his gaze.

"Will would do a wonderful job managing Tara while we're away, and who better than Mammy to take care of Wade?"

"But we would be gone for so long!  And with this baby...."

"There are better doctors in the capitals of Europe than you will find anywhere in Georgia.  And when you want to come back here, all you have to do is ask."

"Really and truly?"

"Really and truly," he said with a laugh, pulling her close to kiss her once more.  

"All right then."  Her tone was clear and decisive, and she sealed her decision with a long, lingering kiss before climbing out of bed.  "We had better start getting ready!"

Rhett smiled and took a hearty bite of her breakfast as Scarlett began searching for an appropriate dress for the day.  "When would you like to leave?"

"How soon can we?"

"A ship sails every week from both Savannah and Charleston.  We can marry tomorrow and be on the ship by Friday."

"That's so fast!"  Scarlett sat down on the edge of the bed, mulling over the possibility of doing so much work so quickly.  Ultimately, the impulsive, eager side of her won out.  "But let's do it!"

"Then I had best head into town and make the necessary arrangements."

As he departed, Scarlett looked around the room and tried to come to grips with the cyclone that had suddenly rearranged her plans for life.  With a smile, she pulled on a simple calico dress and set about aligning life with her new plans.

****
Chapter 24
****

Scarlett shifted, trying to orient herself as well as quell the nausea already roiling her stomach.  It took a few moments for her newly awakened mind to catch up with the whirlwind of her last forty-eight hours.

Storm clouds had been building as they'd left Tara to be married, and torrents of rain were falling by the time the ceremony was complete.  Despite Rhett's best efforts, both of them had been soaked in the time it took to board the train.  He'd procured a blanket, and she'd snuggled close to him, but had to endure the agonizingly long journey to Atlanta in layers of wet clothing.  She didn't remember much of their arrival there, or their departure the next morning for Savannah, only that Rhett had carried her rather than wake her.  She'd been so happy to board the ship yesterday evening, to finally be ensconced in the luxury Rhett was so happy to provide for her.  But Scarlett had never before traveled by ship, and within hours was realizing that it did not agree so well with her.  

With a great deal of effort, Scarlett opened her eyes, and found Rhett sitting at the bedside watching her, a book forgotten on his lap.

"How are you feeling this morning, Mrs. Butler?"

She smiled at her new name, but almost immediately grimaced as her stomach spun, the combination of seasickness and pregnancy causing her to curl up in a small ball on the bed.  "Terrible," she mumbled.

"You'd feel better if you came up on deck and got some fresh air."

Groaning, Scarlett pressed her face into the pillow.  "I'd never make it to the deck."

Rhett laughed gently.  "You can't lay there the whole way to France.  I'll help you up."

With little resistance, Scarlett allowed herself to be pulled from bed and dressed, nausea simmering as Rhett guided her.  It was only his strong arm around her that got her out the door of their cabin, and she hoped she didn't make a fool of both of them in front of everyone on the boat.

Once on deck, Scarlett did have to admit that the sea air was refreshing and the sun was lovely.  Rhett helped her settle into a deck chair before ordering them tea.  Scarlett took several deep breaths before attempting a sip of tea, and was startled to find her nausea receding.

"Feeling better, my pet?"  Rhett asked, watching her over the rim of his teacup.

Scarlett settled her cup back in its saucer and took another deep breath before replying with a tentative, "Yes, I believe I do feel a bit better."

"Some exercise will help you, too.  You've been under so much stress, once you've settled into the rhythm of life on the ship, the journey will become quite pleasant.  Would you care for a walk to look around the ship when we're finished our tea?"

Without a word, Scarlett nodded and picked up her cup.

The combination of air and exercise did the trick, as Scarlett even felt well enough to dine with her fellow travelers that evening.  Nausea also remained at bay as she drifted off to sleep, Rhett's arms gently embracing her.

When she woke the next morning, Scarlett took a deep breath before opening her eyes.  Doing so, she caught the faint scent of the sea, wafting in from an open porthole, slightly exotic yet soothing.  Rhett, still sleeping, reacted to her movement by tightening his embrace.  One hand, resting on her hip, pulled her closer to him.  The other, resting on her breast, contracted and began gently kneading the flesh.  She inhaled deeply once more, pushing herself more firmly into his hands.

"Is this the way I should expect to be awakened in the future?  A beautiful woman pushing herself into my embrace?"

"As long as I'm the one in your embrace!"  Scarlett laughed and placed her own hand over his as it cupped her breast.

“Always.”  Rhett’s other hand drifted down from her hip to rest once more over their developing child.  Love pervaded the room as they drifted back to sleep, the sea breeze whispering around them as it carried them towards their future as a family.
****
END
****

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