These first two chapters are more of a pilot than anything. I hope you enjoy. This story picks up after the end of the book, though I'm not going to dwell on the things that happen directly after.

This has been partially rewritten because it was previously more summary and it was bugging me.

Rhett kept his word. He returned frequently enough to keep his trips from looking too suspicious. Though there were still whispered around them, they faded with Mrs. Butler.

The woman inhabiting the biggest house in Atlanta has also one of the smallest. It was clear to even the most casual observer that she was unhealthily small. And while she sent away any visitors, she also sent away her meals.

Mammy was downright distraught, but could not get her lamb to so much as nibble a biscuit.

It did not help that Rhett consistently showed up and ignored her.

In fact, those were the days when she paired her starvation with heavy drinking.

The effects on her already fragile health were disastrous.

She was so weak that most days she would not or could not rise out of bed. Most of the time she was ill and exhausted, but she refused to see Doctor Meade. He had been sent for several times, but Scarlett dismissed him before he even got through the door.

The children were terrified of the change in their previously unstoppable mother. They pleaded with their Uncle Rhett to do something, which he always said he would.

He never did.

It wasn't until almost a year into her downward spiral that he spoke to her.

He had cornered her at the bottom of the stairs, forcing her to talk with him.

It had been the first day in two weeks that Scarlett had bothered to rise from her comforting bed and held strong enough to face another trying day.

As he began to caress her cheek, she found herself both incredibly glad for the decision and wishing that she could crawl back into bed and deal with him later.

As he continued studying her face, however, she couldn't help the warm bloom of hope in her chest.

Rhett's hand lightly traced her cheek. His eyes were locked on his hand, studiously avoiding her burning gaze.

"Scarlett, you have to sign the papers."

She had been wrong. Wrong to think that a man as cruel and unfeeling as Rhett could possibly find it in him to love her again.

She blinked back the tears furiously and opened her mouth to protest only to find that she had no idea what to say.

"Please, honey?"

Exhaustion enveloped her being with those words. Her shoulders dropped with her spirit as she withdrew from him.

"Fine," she spat. "You're such a coward, Rhett Butler. Hiding behind kindness just to bring me down further. I'll sign your damn papers and you'll never see me again." Something rekindled in her eyes. They almost glowed in anger.

The look on her face sent shivers down Rhett's spine. If looks could kill, he'd be long gone. It still offered some reassurance. He'd thought her unfeeling, broken beyond belief. He couldn't stand to look at her like that. It had been all his fault. But the hatred playing out in her expression was reminiscent of a time when they had both been more complete, when they had been able to stand being near each other.

The pain and drinking had driven Scarlett to the brink, and as a result, she switched between personas at the drop of a hat. A hollow husk one second, a dangerous monster the next.

That monster took over as she brought her hand across Rhett's face, cutting him with the heavy rings that adorned her left hand.

She stormed down the hall, knocking over a glass vase at the base of the stairs.

Scarlett through the door open, charging into the mist outside.

Bang.

The door slammed behind her and she was gone. Gone without a second glance. Without her children. Without him.

Nothing had been more liberating and soul-crushing than signing those divorce papers. They set her free from the constant battles with Rhett and the miserable way they treated each other. She no longer had to fight for him because he wasn't hers and he never would be again.

The losses in her life crept into her mind, swirling around her. What was there left for her now? A home that she fought for. One that was inhabited by a bitter sister and her obnoxious children. The house she had built. A mansion haunted by memories, both good and bad. Two children, withdrawn and isolated from her. Children now in Rhett's care. Money. Yes, money. Funds that could take her anywhere she wanted. The possibilities were endless with the sum Rhett had left her. She couldn't even spend it all if she tried.

Texas, the land of the outcasts. A place where she could be free from stuck up society and Rhett's influence.

Maybe Paris afterward? No, it would only serve as a bitter reminder of happier days, when Rhett had brought her silk bonnets from Paris. England seemed viable, but what would her father think of her mixing with the British? Though she paid little attention to what happened in Europe, Scarlett had found it impossible to ignore the trouble brewing between the Irish and the British with how Irish her father was. But Pa hadn't expressed many opinions on the topic of Britain, so maybe he wouldn't care. Oh, what did it matter? Pa was long dead, no matter how much it hurt her to acknowledge it, and she would not be controlled by anyone, much less a seemingly nonsensical feeling of duty to a ghost.

Texas and then England, Scarlett decided. She would travel to both destinations and she would have a damn good time while doing it.

"Where did you live before coming here, Miss O'Hara?"

"Oh, it was nowhere important. Just Georgia."

"Rural or urban Georgia? I have some family over in Atlan-"

"I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but would you get me a drink, darling?"

The young man reluctantly left Scarlett's side, hurrying to the closest refreshments table.

He was very fond of Scarlett O'Hara, but one had to be careful. After fighting so fiercely for her attention, it was ridiculously easy to lose it. Others would swoop in without a moment's hesitation.

Though she was no longer a fresh-faced belle, she was still the shining star at almost every event. She was vivacious, charming, and oh so gorgeous. She could still turn any man's head and did so unapologetically.

Of course, the residents of San Antonio, Texas didn't care nearly as much about propriety as Georgians. As a thirty-year-old, she was still welcomed at all social events.

"Wouldn't you rather be spending your time with someone more experienced, Miss O'Hara?"

Scarlett glanced at the man who had suddenly appeared by her side.

Joseph Miller.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Joseph."

"What fun is that boy, Scarlett. I know I'm certainly more fun than him."

"Conceited. And don't forget, Joseph, that you're not much older."

"Maybe not, but I've seen more than him. Look at him. You can tell he's been coddled."

"Maybe I like coddled."

He laughed out loud at that. She shot him a reproachful look and raised an eyebrow, but he could read the amusement in her eyes.

"And maybe Alice is prettier than you. No, you certainly don't I could see you itching to leave him. Isn't that why you sent him to get drinks?"

"You would ask. And where did he go? I was rather parched."

"Sure you were. That's also why you stepped off the dance floor? I'm no fool."

"I suppose you'll never know."

"What if I bribed it out of you?"

The smile playing at Scarlett's lips faltered. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, my dear, I just so happened to see a rather lovely bracelet the other day. And, knowing how magnificent it would look on you, I've brought it for you."

Her amused expression immediately fell.

He was just like Rhett…

"I don't want any gifts, Joseph. It'll be too much like…"

"What's wrong, Scarlett? I thought most women enjoyed free jewelry."

"I think I should go."

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Scarlett. I can stop by tomorrow to check on you."

"No. No, I think I need to leave Texas."

"Leave Texas?"

"Yes, I think it's time I leave. I've had a wonderful time, Joseph, but I can't stay here…"

Not when he constantly reminded her of Rhett. And if he really got attached to her… No, she had to go. The sooner the better.

A world of glittering jewels and splendor. The world of the British nobility.

Scarlett sat at the center of it all, the American enchantress.

"Would you care to dance, Miss O'Hara?"

With a gentle nod, she offered her gloved hand to the gentleman, allowing him to twirl her around the dance floor.

While the balls were lavish and Scarlett loved being paraded to each one, the conversations were political or inane. The lord acting as her temporary dance partner was droning on in her ear about the wonder that was Queen Victoria.

His accent was far from objectionable, but she longed for the Southern dialect that had surrounded her until the very end of her twenties.

That thought brought a wave of others, memories she had left behind in America.

The comforts of home, the foods she ate growing up. Pa and his hatred of the British.

It was time to go home. Scarlett wasn't sure where that was, but she knew it wasn't in England.

Scarlett made her way across the Atlantic yet again, docking in Savannah and heading directly to the train station.

She was back in America, but with nowhere to go. What did one do when they were divorced with no home? She couldn't remake a life in Atlanta or Charleston, the scandal would haunt her for the rest of her life.

There was no good answer. The twenty minutes she spent standing ticketless in the train station did not bring her any closer to an answer.

A voice called to her over the din.

Despite the bonnet that purposely obscured her face, someone had managed to recognize her slight frame.

And who better than her ex-husband?