"Are you asking me to marry you?"

He dropped her hand and laughed so loudly she shrank back in her chair.

"Good Lord, no! Didn't I tell you I wasn't a marrying man?"

"But-but-what-"

He rose to his feet and, hand on heart, made her a burlesque bow.

"Dear," he said quietly, "I am complimenting your intelligence by asking you to be my mistress without having first seduced you."

Mistress!

She ought to be furious, she knew. She ought to faint, and scream, and expel him from the premises. But she could do nothing of the sort. A hurt spread in her limbs, her abdomen, her chest, and finally clenching her heart.

What a laugh she intended to have once he told her he wanted to marry her. But the joke was on her. A thought came to her mind.

"Both of them don't want me; Ashley and Rhett. All Ashley saw in me was someone to care for the wife he impregnated the night before. The bastard".

The thought of the vile act she had passed with her deceased husband also came to mind. She remembered the embarrassing and disgusting events of her brief honeymoon with Charles, his fumbling hands, his awkwardness, his incomprehensible emotions-and now Melanie's horrible pregnancy causing her such weakness.

The humiliation flooded her once again at the recollection.

"Leave, Rhett." She uttered quietly – "leave."

He looked at her. Her face was frozen. He could not see her eyes in the darkness –

"No need to kick me out" he began in a still amused tone.

"Get out, you bastard! I mean it-"

She couldn't help herself but tears started pouring down her cheeks and she chocked at calling him a bastard. She turned hurriedly and entered the house.

She doesn't care, she muttered, she doesn't want him anyway.

But she couldn't stop crying. Her racing thoughts made her question herself - why did she feel as if he had ripped her heart out of her chest and thrown it at the floor to be stepped on under his boots? No answer came but her breath became short and ragged. It was worse than her wedding day, or Ashley's or even the day she'd agreed to Charles's proposal. Worse than the pain of Wade's labor.

She held her head in her hands and sobbed.

Sure, he had expected her ire to flame like a blizzard. In fact, he quite looked forward to it. He had almost got carried away, holding her hand, touching it with his lips, and his words served as what?

This reaction was not at all what he had anticipated. He shook his head, heading toward the iron gate as he changed his mind turning and entering the dark house without knocking. He heard her sobbing in the parlor. He stood in the entrance of the room.

She was not surprised, he was not a person one could rely on leaving once expelled, quite the contrary. The silence lingered between them. He was trying to figure out what to do –

"Scarlett, I…"

"No you don't. You don't even have the courtesy to leave once asked."

He approached her hearing her mumble half to herself half to him "You see me as nothing more than… You ... Go Rhett, PLEASE, go -"

To his own surprise he knelt down beside her so she could not avoid his eyes "I apologize, Scarlett. Can I take it back? I never meant it. Never. I promise you."

The softness in his words caught her unprepared, yet she hadn't been prepared to any of this.

She was tired and sad.

A thought of her sick mother came to her mind. She was upset at the beginning of the evening, she so wanted to go home.

She was still paralyzed but she allowed him to take her hand and help her rise. To wipe her eyes with his handkerchief. He kept saying "I never meant it, darling, never." He was holding her softly for a while.

After her tears dried he took her to the kitchen. There he gave her a chair when he started looking around the cupboards. It seemed that he hadn't found what he was looking for because after a short while he turned exasperated to her – "You should eat something."

She smiled faintly and directed him with her finger towards the stove, in a small box he found some corn bread leftovers from the afternoon – "I made it for Wade and Prissy a few hours ago, it's probably eatable."

His back was turned to her "You bake?"

"Hmff" was her retort "Prissy doesn't."

As she started eating he moved with unease in his chair. She ate with small bites her eyes red and her cheeks damp with streaks of tears.

"What is it Rhett?" she asked when the silence tore her thin nerves.

"Why were you so offended?"

She did not answer him. Why indeed? Ashley's face came in mind again. The way he looked at her at his wedding at the furlough. If she never saw him again it would be too soon, her anger rose. The pain in her chest was still there but now her anger prevailed.

Without thought she muttered "The bastard". It was faint, but he heard it just the same.

"Now, that's more of what I expected in the first place" he commented with half a smile "I remind you that I humbly apologized, something that my parents never witnessed me do."

"Oh that, I wasn't thinking of you or your vile behavior, but was that your idea of a joke? You are the horridest man I've ever met. You hurt me like no one- well except-"

She stopped in the midst of her passionate words embarrassed. He noticed. Impatiently he looked at her -

"Except the honorable Captain Wilkes whom I saw with a silky yellow sash at the train a half year ago?"

"It wasn't like that."

"Really? What was it like, preparing a sash for the knight in shining armor with my gift? I wonder."

She was surprised but after his behavior she was damned if he expected an apology -

"What took you so long to complain, why you proud arrogant man? I made the handkerchiefs I gave you from my petticoat Rhett, not that I'd mention it if you hadn't been so vile before. Melly gave him a coat and she was rambling on and on about his outfit and… Besides you got the better gift"

"Handkerchiefs?"

"It may come in handy for a man who spreads his all over town like you."

He began laughing quietly. "And I bet you cut that golden cloth the same day you ran into one of my, what was it? Spread handkerchiefs. Tell me – with whom did you find one?"

"Ms. Watling."

"Oh."

She smiled bitterly, "Oh indeed."

"How?"

"Does it matter?"

"So you ruined a perfectly good petticoat just to make a point?"

"You gave me the cloth for the petticoat."

"You discarded everything?"

"Not the green bonnet or the head pins though. I love them too much."

After a short pause she added "You're right. I tore the petticoat, the same night. Then we met at this gathering, and it faded, so I decided to embroider you a handkerchief. It turned to a dozen."

He remembered that gathering. He remembered her being cool and reserved with him and obviously too engaged with a young lieutenant. He went out of his way to make her laugh, wondering what had caused her to be so.

"I haven't given your handkerchiefs to anyone but yourself now."

She wouldn't admit but it relieved her.

"It doesn't matter"

"You're a lousy lair. You practically breathed with relief. Which brings me to the next question, if it doesn't matter, why all these tears."

"Oh- I don't want to think of it."

He came closer, his presence filling her existence, his eyes penetrating her soul.

"But you will. I won't let you slip backwards on me. Ask me anything you'd like, and answer me."

She could practically inhale him. She moved her head and sighed.

He took her chin gently and observed her eyes.

"What happened with Mr. Wilkes?"

"He asked me to care for Melly. After that he kissed me and left. He wrote me one letter calling me 'his brave little soldier'."

"The unbelievable bastard" he uttered with disgust.

"It took your abhorrent talk to make me realize that. I know you apologized, but you see me as nothing more than..."

He grasped her by the arms with a steel grip.

"It was a joke, for God sake, Scarlett! A bad one, I'll admit, but as I said, I never meant it. Good God! I hadn't even as much as kissed you, and you know I could have. I only said it to wipe that conniving expression from your face. You are not made for affairs, honey."

She was tired and upset, and on top of it he was on to her. In some magical way he knew that she intended to show him, to pay him back for all the insults and barbs. She raised her eyes to him and what she saw intrigued her, frustration and something else she'd never seen before addressed to her. He was right, he never kissed her. At first she felt lost but than her curiosity got the better of her–

"Why hadn't you kissed me. And why am I not made for affairs in your opinion?" She almost sounded insulted.

He did not answer and his face turned bland -

"Oh, you won't answer me, now will you? And if you do whatever you'd say won't be true, will it? Well, both you and Ashley can go to Halifax for all I care! You are both cowards and cads of the lowest kind and I…" She tried to leave his hold to no avail because his grip grew harder.

"Don't compare me" and his lips fell on hers with so much force that she was sure she'd fall on the floor, but she didn't because his arms held her. His kiss was hard and violent, parting her lips tasting her mouth with abandon. What woke him up was the fact that she was slowly but undeniably responding to his aggression with tenderness he hadn't imagined she possessed. Her hands began caressing his temples till then they sunk in the soft hair above his nape, she was leaning to him.

After a while he stopped and held her down, his chin on top of her head, embracing her closely.

"You are not made for affairs, honey, though you could be tempted, like most human beings. You are too special for that and it would destroy whatever tenderness you possess."

Her eyes were torn with amazement. Without much thought she found herself whispering "I wish you had kissed me long ago". She was leaning towards his warmness, caressing him tentatively with the tip of her fingers. She had never given physical attention, affection to a living soul, except her son, parents, and ponies. Yet, wrapped in his arms she felt as though she could do nothing wrong. After a while she simply rested her head and breathed him deeply.

He took her backwards and with dancing bright eyes he said "You're tired, you should go to sleep, I'll drop by tomorrow."

She did not break her embrace, standing put in his arms. After a few seconds she lowered her eyes and said "Please don't go just yet."

With that he took her to the settee and cradled her in his arms. Sometime later she raised her head to him "Why haven't you kissed me before?"

She was half a sleep but clear in her question.

He smiled and whispered " I'm too narcissist to care to please someone who is not solely interested in me. Besides, I never kiss little girls and you, my dear, is such a child most of the time. "

"Narcissist? You always use the long words, just like Ashley."

"It means that I love myself to distraction, a monster of selfishness, kind of like yourself" there was a hint of irritation in his voice.

She restrained her laughter but he could hear her smile "Don't call me a monster. Besides, I thought it was for me to spend a lifetime in front of a mirror or a lake for that matter."

"So you know Narcissus? I suppose I deserve it for belittling you."

"My point exactly." Then she whispered "You are like no one else, you probably know that." She once again leaned her head to his chest and cuddled to him. Yes, he was different. He was gentle and kind in his own way.

She left him puzzled. He could not figure out the flow of events of the past hour. He was about to ask her of it when he realized she was fast asleep in his arms.

He had had lovers of sorts. Naturally he slept with some, but such intimacy with a young woman he could not remember. He really had never meant to marry and have a wife. Since Christmas a resentment stained his attitude towards her. Her story about the handkerchiefs somewhat healed his pride. He lingered inhaling her scent, he was feeling her curves when he heard a soft call from the upper floor "Mummy, Wade scared".

She surprised him with her sudden awakening, even more with the run she made to the stairs, two steps at a time – "Coming, Mommy's coming."

He was looking up when he saw her coming out of the room with the boy holding her hand –

"Go give Uncle Rhett a kiss good-night, darling."

He came half-way up the stairs hugging the toddler to him and brushing her hand, she didn't move it, but rather gave him a long soft look.

"You may sleep in my bed, Wade, I'll be there later."

After the sound of his steps subsided she came down, looking at him she took his hand –

"Come, I'll fix you some tea, it's too late for anything else."

He murmured something inaudible .

"Wait!" She ran back up and came down with a bottle of brandy "It's Aunt Pitty's, she won't miss it now."

"I suppose I have your Irish pa to thank for this understanding."

She smiled and took his hand again. Sitting at the kitchen the air became awkward once again and they sunk to a tense silence.

"I'll get going."

"Will you come tomorrow?" her voice was small, a child's almost

He approached her and lift her to her feet from her sit – "Will you answer me?"

She closed her eyes for a second then moved her gaze downwards – why had she cried so? Why had she felt her heard had shattered to a million pieces. Why was it so hard to let him go through that door?

"Tomorrow?" she asked "I'm too tired to think, Rhett, really"

He chuckled "Still a child, aren't you? You'll think of it tomorrow and answer me tomorrow? Well, if you want me here tomorrow you better answer me now."

Irritated she looked at up to his dark eyes "Why should I, when have you ever told me what you think or feel? It's bad enough that you saw me crying-"

"Sobbing, to be precise" he was not being unkind nor jesting – "You haven't asked me about my thoughts, and I did answer your question before".

He neglected the word feelings.

She noticed.

Should she risk it? Her pride? Her game? It never worked with him anyhow, the flirting and her eye flattering. If anything, her tears had given her a kiss that its' recollection made her shiver.

"It broke my heart to think that you don't care, well no more than you would for that Watling creature."

"Scarlett, Belle's my friend, has been for years, from before you were born or even playing with dolls. I've known her from childhood. If you have any regard to my sentiments don't speak of her in that manner."

He was caressing her hair looking ahead, lowering her eyes she felt embarrassed again.

"I'll come around at six, so I can see Wade before he goes to sleep. We'll pray the good doctor and his wife will avoid calling on us."

But sleep was a far from her as the sea, as her mother. An unreachable land beyond the siege. She thanked heavens for Wade's warm body next to her. By the time the sun started sending pink color in the skies she was dressed and after her forth cup of tea.

****GWTW****

The entire day she was quiet and tense. Dr. Mead and Melanie attributed her state to the message from home. With a weak voice Melanie apologized for the thousandth time for keeping her from her mother. She gazed at the heart shaped face of her pale sister-in-law and a thought of Ashley came to her mind. The black hearted bastard! If she could she'd slap him again.

"Melly, I probably would have caught the typhoid myself, so perhaps it's for the best. Or poor Wade would have, and then God help me. Once you have delivered and we go, I can actually be useful. Help her recover." She was surprised by her own remark, but it pained her to think that her friend was agonizing on her account when she had kissed Ashley that time.

By five o'clock she was sitting at the same veranda he had found her the day before, this time with Wade at her side to shield her from her own thoughts. As if anything could.

He surprised her by walking up the street without his stallion. His forehead was sweaty.

"The army took my horse today."

Her heart was racing like a steam engine, feeling uncomfortable she gestured toward the house, "Come, I'll help you freshen up in the kitchen."

As he saw the toddler approaching he smiled -

"So how was it like to wake up with Mommy?"

"She wasn't there." the toddler answered as he hugged Rhett goodnight. He raised his eyes to hers, she blushed as if caught in mischief. If that wasn't bad enough her child's betrayal was complete when he added "She said she couldn't sleep all night! Could you imagine not sleeping all night?"

"Come Wade, it's too late for you as it is."

She could feel his smile from behind her back.

Once back in the parlor she sat in front of him. His gaze was measuring her.

"I suppose you'll start pestering me with your questions." She muttered in a low tone.

"Only if need be; and only if you keep sitting there instead of next to me as you should. Come, why the embarrassment? Would it help if I told you that I too hadn't slept this night?"

Without much thought she uttered "Depends on where you've been"

His roaring laughter made her blush even further.

"Come Scarlett, I won't bite you, and as you said yesterday, you are not afraid of me or any other man."

With a glimpse of courage she said quietly "I am scared."

"Oh?"

But she kept quiet, averting her eyes anywhere so as not to meet his. Once again, as yesterday, he snapped, this time at her reluctance to look at him.

"Who would have thought? The girl who threw a vase at me is scared. "

"Oh, please-won't you forget that?"

"No, it is one of my most priceless memories—Answer me why."

"No." The word was barely audible.

His eyes lit with happiness she had never seen before "You are a greater fool than I thought. Almost as great as I am" and with that he approached her but as she thought he was going to kiss her the doorbell rang and Mrs. Mead was there with her son. Shortly after her arrival he excused himself and left.

She escorted him to the door, he gathered her behind the column of the entrance and brushed her lips with his own "Pray harder, my dear, perhaps tomorrow we'll have more luck."

But the same occurred the following day and the day after that. He'd come, and shortly after Mrs. Mead would arrive.

****GWTW****

A fortnight had passed. Other than a few stolen kisses she had not had enough time with Rhett to actually speak with him. This afternoon he did not come. Mrs. Mead, however, marched in expecting to see him –

"So, the Captain is not here today. Good riddance! I don't know how he dares to show himself in a house like this, and you, my dear, must –

But Scarlett interrupted her tirade –

"Mrs. Mead, I would kindly ask you not to talk in this manner, he is my friend."

"Scarlett dear, for a long time I have thought that your friendship with his has gone too far. Has he made his intentions clear? Besides, how can you sit with him knowing fully well that he believes we are going to lose, and he…"

"He's been risking his life for supplies and weapons. Besides the Yankees are practically here when poor Charlie told me years ago that in two weeks he'd be home after the war. So many friends of mine died, your poor-."

Mrs. Mead looked at her slowly– "My poor Darcy. Yes. The Lord help me with my sweet Phil. I suppose we are in over our heads. And your man foresaw it. For that he will always be resented. At least by myself. It is much easier to adore trusting fools, don't you think?"

Scarlett looked at her with confusion, and the elder woman laughed

"But it doesn't matter because your train has left the station. I wrote your mother she should have called for you but your father allowed you to stay, hadn't he? Now you're completely lost. Poor child."

"I—I-" with wide eyes Scarlett stuttered. There was her answer why his touch made her hands shake and the pit of her stomach grow cold.

Caroline Mead saw Scarlett's confusion and after giving her a long knowing look she petted her on her hand – "In these occasions I am happy that I mothered only boys, it is much easier to maintain that once you've fallen in love there is not much to do about it. Years ago I married the good doctor against my father's wishes."

Scarlett was shocked and remained frozen –

"Oh, I know I have white hair now, but back in those days, my father wanted me to marry a man of fortune and not a hard working doctor. One night we eloped. I never looked back. That is the reason my sons never had grand-parents."

For the life of her she could not imagine that happening. The chime of the clock saved her and woke her from her muse.

"Dear God, I haven't even offered you some tea."

"Don't my dear. This has all been very enlightening and rather amusing. I shall get going now."

Sometime later, as the sun set and the faint thunders of bombs in the distance were the only voices she could hear, she sat herself at the kitchen chair and began thinking. He said he wasn't a marrying man. Twice. What if he meant it? What should she do?

"Oh, I won't think about it now. I'll bother about it later" she said to herself aloud.

"And what the issue at hand may be" she heard an amused drawl from the door and nearly fell off her chair with fright.

"Great balls of fire Rhett Butler, hasn't your mother taught you to knock on a door? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"I knocked on the front door and there was no answer. You should lock the door, there are vagabonds and soldiers all around this city."

He sat himself easily on a chair opposite to her and smiled a mischievous smile – "So, where is the good matron this evening? Too occupied to guard you from me?"

"She came and left early." She averted her eyes, recalling the conversation from early before.

"Is that so? I get the feeling there is more to it then you tell me."

Her ire rose – "Why do you think you are allowed to interrogate me to the bone whenever we meet? She was kind and nice, and I'm glad someone looks after me -"

He chuckled "Now I'm sure something has happened. Come, you know you can tell me. What has she done? Did she reproach you for my visits?"

A hint of a smile crept to her face – "You really think you know it all, don't you?"

"Don't I?"

"No. Not this time."

"But she did talk about me."

"Hmmf"

"Are you scared of telling?"

"No! Of course I'm not afraid, why should I be?" she was irritated

"Why indeed, so pray tell –"

"Well she's not madly in love with you like - -"

She bit her tongue, what was she saying? Her hand came to her mouth and she stopped.

He was observing her "So, she's not madly in love with me" a wide piratical grin overtook his features, "like what, or could it be whom?"

She rose from her chair crimson to the roots of her hair –

"Why must you always be so cocky? Why can't you just for once behave like any other normal gentleman?"

"I think we have long established that I am no gentlemen, and you wouldn't have liked me if I were."

His calmness drove her insane; his grin infuriated her; she turned to him abruptly and surprised him when her little fists pounded his chest with frustration. At every push she punctuated a word through gritted teeth -

"Why must you be such a varmint if you could just -" but she couldn't finish because he was kissing her and holding her arms backwards, and though her hands were held behind her back by one of his hands she was leaning to him closing her eyes.

"Open your eyes, Scarlett"

She opened them and gasped at his dark piercing eyes.

"I can't breathe" she was panting "Let me go or I'll faint"

"I'll make you faint, you ought to faint, once in your life, for being so stubborn. "

And so he kissed her. He kissed her to oblivion. She never knew how she got to it but she was on his lap, cocooned in his arms, answering every kiss, each caress with one of her own. Just like the other night. When he stopped, she clasped her hands and bit her lower lip, and then it escaped her "but I don't want to love you!"

He couldn't help himself, his laughter roared like thunders.

She tried to hide her face from him in her hands, to rise from him but between laughs he strengthened his hold holding her palms in one big hand and finally, still laughing "My sweet darling innocent. Because that is what you are. Mine. Sweet. Darling and innocent. Can you blame yourself for falling for the only man who thinks and feels, even acts, the same as you wish to? I sure as hell can't help but adore you like crazy."

A smile crept to her face. She took a big breath, and all of a sudden her courage returned and an arrogant look came to her eyes. He was noting the changes mirrored in her glance with evident amusement -

"Are you asking me to marry you?" Despite her proud posture, nearly comical one, her eyes conveyed nothing but her adoration to him.

"No, but you are asking me, and I most humbly accept."

At his first words she seemed confused but at his last she once again found herself pushing him and pounding at his chest–

"That's it, get out! Why is it so hard for you to say you love me and ask me to marry you? I am not asking you to marry me. I will never ask you to marry me! You are supposed to ask me!"

He took her hands once again in his palms, and as she saw the dance in his eyes, despite the laughter he was unsuccessfully trying to conceal she knew it. This infuriating man was proposing in his own twisted way.

"And since I accept so graciously I believe that this is in order" from the pocket of his jacket he picked a ring, with no box, with one huge diamond shining like a star.

An hour later he was still holding her in his lap – "Won't you tell me what happened with Mrs. Mead now?"

"Oh, that, well she was speaking badly of you and when I asked her not to, and so she told me my mother should have taken me home but that it was too late and I was lost to you; in love with you."

"I never thought I'd feel thankful to that specific matron."

"She's not all that bad, could you believe that she actually eloped to marry the doctor?"

He was caressing her back slowly.

"Will you elope with me?" he whispered.

"How? Wade, Melly and, and -"

"Nor can you leave this town with the fighting coming so close. But we can marry."

His hands were caressing her waist and his breath was drawing goose bumps on her and making her shiver all over.

"How… What… er.." She heard herself from afar and felt contempt at her silliness. Who would have thought she'd stutter like the weakest mealy mouthed ninny. She made an effort to compose herself and a resolution came to her mind. She wanted to be his wife badly. In contrast to what had been with Charlie she wanted this man. With a decisive voice she found herself answering softly –

"I'll get my shawl. I suppose Melly, Wade and Prissy can get along without me for one night, and we could go to the reverend in the hospital, he is Catholic and is always there."

Melly, would help her straighten things with her parents later on.

It was near 10 in the evening when the two entered his hotel room as husband and wife. She'd be home with Melly and Wade in the morning but the night was theirs to have.

She was quiet all along. Dr. Mead and his wife served as their witnesses. The good woman kissed her cheek when she came knocking on her door and even went out of her way and gave her the last roses in her small garden.

"After this war is over, you'll throw a real party with a white dress" Mrs. Mead whispered to her after the ceremony, when she caught Scarlett's glimpse on the hem of her dress.

A proud Rhett Butler was there to take his bride's hand in his and with a flashing smile declare that she was beautiful beyond compare, thus causing the good doctor's features to soften and say to his wife "You never understood how lovely you were with that brown traveling frock."

Entering his room in the hotel panic overtook her – she hasn't given a thought to what was coming. Yes, she loved his touch, his lips, his kisses, but the memory of the few nights that resulted in the creation of Wade were something she'd never forget, the pain and the humiliation.

Her eyes showed fear.

She braced herself 'I love him, it may not be as bad if I love him' she was thinking, her face a perfect mirror of her contemplation.

"Scarlett" he put a finger under her chin making it impossible for her not to see his eyes "If there is one thing that you will crave for no less than me, it will be this."

She realized she hadn't brought anything with her. Not even her nightgown. She was fidgeting with her hands when he took her in his arms –

"I'm happy it was not a big wedding. But we need at least one wedding waltz" he twirled her a few times in the air till she forgot all her fears and began laughing.

"Are you hungry?" he did not wait for her to answer him and ordered a late night meal to their room.

It was odd, watching a sworn bachelor in his room, ordering food, ridding himself of his jacket, and putting aside a bunch of starched and ironed shirts. She tried to imagine his life, and for a minute she felt overwhelmed with the power he must possess – living his lonely life for years. She thought of his visits to her Aunt Pitty's home. Admiration and sadness flooded her. Would she be banished by her mother? Would she be alienated on account of her choice of a husband?

Once again she felt awkward but he sensed it and sat her on the settee besides him, and with a twinkle in his eyes brought a piece of pie to her mouth with his fingers. She hadn't realized she was so hungry. The combination of his callous fingers grazing her lips with each bite that he served her, the heat of his body and his special scent made her feel electrified and in a strange way also safe, despite the unfamiliar domain she was in, his domain.

"A penny for your thoughts" he said as he noticed her contemplation.

"Oh, I don't know."

His eyes were intense and his smile never left him. She stuttered. How could she put her confused thoughts into words. She couldn't decipher her thoughts into words. But for the first time she felt as if she had come home. Here, in this foreign hotel room, with this tall man and his coal eyes. She caught a glimpse of the second room. The one with the big bed. Her first wedding night was in her own childhood room. She made Charlie sleep on the floor. The following day she cried, and the next she became pained and apparently pregnant.

Here she was now with a man who was holding her without asking her permission and whose touch left her wanting for more. She wasn't made for affairs according to him. The words stung at her vanity due to the implication. She felt challenged. Yet, the memory of sending poor Charlie to the floor made her realize that in fact he was not far from the truth. Then an image of Rhett in such a situation made her giggle. He'd never take that, or would he?

"Now you have to tell me."

"Well, it wouldn't be right. Promise not to be mad or laugh?" His brow came up at the question.

"I was looking at this room, and, well – er- On my wedding night with Charlie we were in my old room and I made him sleep on the floor the first night. I told him that if he'd touch me I'd scream."

Realization came to his eyes, "Why would I be mad? You were a child. I'd never want my child to marry at such a young an age." After a pause he gathered her even closer to him "And you giggled because? Did you imagine me sleeping on the floor for you?"

"Not so much that, but the thought of threatening you and trying to send you the floor was enough" A yawn escaped her. She blinked "I haven't slept much this week."

He did not answer her but rather removed a lock of hair that came free from her forehead. His eyes were infinite pools she was breathing from and his mouth became the well she was drinking from. She wanted to be his.

With a lightness that surprised her he rose to his feet and began helping her discard her cloths. His eyes were twinkling.

When she was left with nothing but her chemise on she turned her back to him holding his hand to her mouth. She looked at his rough fingers and for the first time initiated a kiss to them.

During the entire time of their love making he was smiling at her. Treating their nudity lightly, laughing about the absurdity of the fact that she had seen plenty of field slaved without much cloths on, but was not expected to see her own husband. He praised her beauty with his eyes and hands whispering that it would be a sin not to watch such beauty, and when she fell apart in his arms with total abandon crying out his name he chuckled caressing her cheek. She realized that he was in full control even on his climax, careful not to hurt her, careful so she felt that it was all about her. For once, she did not mind. Tomorrow she'd see how she could make him loose it.

She snuggled closely to him and whispered, to his surprised "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For this. I never dreamed this could be so—"

"If anyone told me that you could be thankful, I'd laugh, and for this? Gotta hand it to you, honey, you save your sweetness for the right things, Mrs. Butler."

Sometime later he woke and made love to her again, awakening her with his hot kisses and warm body. She smiled at him dreamily. This time he was caught in her warmth. Afterwards he lit a cigar pulling her to him.

"What are you thinking of?"

"Of my parents. Pa will come to terms with anything I do, but mother is a different thing. Well, it doesn't matter." He heard hard resolution in her voice and he felt flattered.

After more than a decade of wandering these words entered a place that had been shut in his heart. "Will she not be happy for you?"

She reached her arms to him and kissed his cheek. "It will be so nice if… But, you know what, even if she doesn't, I will never regret this."

****GWTW****

It was barely dawn when a startled Prissy with a scared Wade knocked on the door. Melanie was in labor. Her contractions had started in the hours of the night. Scarlett gathered her shawl and left Wade with Rhett stating that she'd send Prissy as soon as they were done. Hours of agony were a head of her. The doctor wouldn't come. Dozens of wounded soliders were lying by the rails and he desperately tried to relieve them of their pain. Save as many as he could. In the early afternoon his son's dead body had been laid in front of him.

They left the burning city behind, in a rocky wagon with Melanie and the new born baby.

"We're out of town now," said Rhett briefly, drawing rein, "and on the main road to Rough and Ready. I am leaving you here, my dear."

"Leaving us? Where-where are you going?"

"I am going, dear wife, with the army."

"The same army of stupid fools who were enticed into losing their lives by a roll of drums and brave words from orators-fools who killed themselves that wise men might make money!"

"How can I make you understand?"

Once, when she was six years old, she had fallen from a tree, flat on her stomach. She could still recall that sickening interval before breath came back into her body. Now, as she looked at Rhett, she felt the same way she had felt then, breathless, stunned, nauseated.

She realized he was not joking. Her tears were pouring –

"I love you, Scarlett, because we are so much alike, renegades, both of us, dear, and selfish rascals. Neither of us cares a rap if the whole world goes to pot, so long as we are safe and comfortable. But if I don't go, you'll never know comfort. For you my dear, will need to keep head in front of society. Oh, I know what I said, time and again about reputation, but you, I can't condemn you and Wade to the solitude that will be your fate if I don't."

It was her fault. Her silly words in the morning "Rhett, don't, I don't care. If you die none of it would be worth it. You are my husband. Please –" She was crying, almost begging but she knew it was no use. She knew he would not change his mind.

Anger flooded her, she hated the cause, and her ire rose "If you dare die on me, I'll kill you, do you hear me? " She was murmuring his name to his lips kissing him until he tore himself away.

****GWTW****

Eight months later

She was wiping her head from the sweat. Though it was cold, she was perspiring after picking vegetables and arranging the fallen fence.

It was a cold noon. Will, who had been enticing little Beau across the blanket with an old Confederate bill, looked up and, shading his eyes, glanced down the driveway.

"More company," he said, squinting in the sun. "Another soldier."

Scarlett followed his gaze and saw a familiar sight, a bearded man coming slowly up the avenue under the cedars, a man clad in a ragged mixture of blue and gray uniforms, head high and feet walking confidently, a contrast to his ragged looks.

"I thought we were about through with soldiers," she said. "I hope this one isn't very hungry."

"He'll be hungry," said Will briefly.

Melanie rose.

"I'd better tell Dilcey to set an extra plate," she said, "and warn Mammy not to get the poor thing's clothes off his back too abruptly and-"

She stopped so as she heard Scarlett's shriek as she looked on the red road. Scarlett's thin hand was at her throat, clutching it as if it was torn with pain, and the veins beneath the white skin was throbbing swiftly. Her face went whiter and her green eyes flashed. She knew him. Dirty, ragged and dark.

In an instant, Scarlett was down the steps. Down the graveled path she flew, skimming lightly as a bird, her faded skirts streaming behind her, her arms outstretched. As she reached him his arms enfolded her. He was home. For the first time in eight months she felt at home too.

I always wanted Scarlett to be the one flying towards Rhett at that scene…