Rhett stood on the deck and stared ahead. As the fog rolled by, he could catch small glimpses of land. The sea air had left a coating of salt on his beard and the wind whipped through his shirt. Normally, when he returned to port these things brought along an aching in his heart. They remind him of what he would be missing. But thoughts of Scarlett had been haunting him for the past two months. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to reach land and hurry to Atlanta.

"Already itching to go back into the sea?"

It was Steven. Rhett smiled. The boy couldn't be more than a few steps behind him. That woman had really gotten under his skin. Even the most experienced hunters in that Indian tribe had been unable to sneak up on him during his gold rush days. He turned slowly, "Steven," he greeted.

The younger man took his place alongside him. Steven Butler looked nothing like Rhett. That was no surprise. The chances he had impregnated Belle were always slim. But it was a shock that the boy shared no features with his mother either.

Steven Butler was classically handsome. If Rhett hadn't helped to raise him, he would see that he bore a striking resemblance to Ashley Wilkes. This resemblance went beyond the blue eyes and blond hair. Rhett had accepted immediately that he hadn't sired the boy, but he knew better than anyone that raising and loving the child was what made a father. The two rested their elbows on the railing and looked ahead.

"I have some business to conduct, so I won't be able to accompany the ship down to New Orleans." Rhett tried to sound disappointed, but not too much so. His son knew he was not one to show emotion. "I will be counting on you to help the first mate on that last part of the journey, but it should be smooth sailing. Let your mother know I will be home as soon as I finish up what I need to do."

The rigging overhead creaked and groaned as it stood fast against a strong gust.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Dad. I promised I would keep an eye on you, and I don't think Ma meant out in the middle of the ocean where you are surrounded by five men and water."

Rhett shook his head. How dare a whore have the audacity to try to cage him. "Now Seven, I don't aim to make this awkward for you, but I am in no need of a chaperone..."

"If I arrive without you by my side, she will go back to Atlanta—and any other city where you have clients. She will scream from the church bell towers that you two are married. She is desperate and feels that you are all she has left to lose."

Rhett's knuckles grew white as he squeezed the railing. If Belle was not Steven's mother, he would be earning his title as a sailor that very minute with his words. But instead, he kept his anger inside.

"I don't think she expects you to be a saint," Steven added quickly. "I just think she's afraid you might fall in love..."

Rhett laughed. "Love? Your mother is as crazy as she is controlling. If love is really—which I am not entirely sure I believe it to be—I assure you, I not stupid enough to get within ten feet of it." He stepped away from the edge of the boat and put his hands in his pockets. "I'll prove it to you. You can follow me like your mother's puppy. If you think I'm in danger of falling in love, you can intervene. But as you say, she must have come to accept that I too have carnal needs. If I choose to see to those, there is no reason for you to intervene. And you cannot be so cruel as to hurt her by sharing such details with her. Agreed?"

Steven nodded. Rhett walked to his stateroom.

Rhett stood on a porch attached to a little house on Peachtree Street. He pulled down his coat and lifted a fist to knock. He emptied his lungs through purses lips and turned to his son. "There really is no need for you to accompany me. This is not what you imagine. I was invited to dinner. It would be rude to refuse, but I am certain you will find this evening very dull. You'd have a much better time visiting done of the young bells, I'm sure."

"And miss meeting Mrs. Wilkes? Not on your life, Dad."

A flicker of agitation appeared in Rhett's gaze. Steve wasn't going anywhere. Something didn't add up, and he was going to find out what it was.

"Don't call me that. You know I can't allow news of my marriage to get around. Here, in Atlanta, you are Steven Foster."

"I know," he grumbled under his breath. It was an identity Steven often assumed. It was a fitting name. He had often felt he'd been fostered. Indeed, he'd wished it to be the case at least as often.

Rhett's voice cut through his thoughts. "So once you're convinced that, despite Mrs. Wilkes charms, I am in no danger of falling prey to Cupid's arrow, you'll be on your way?"

He had no time to answer, the door swung open and the most stunning woman Steven had ever seen emerged from the home. She looked over his father with efficiency and shook her head.

"I thought I heard you out here. Were you planning to knock, or were you just going to stand th..."

Rhett cleared his throat and his gaze flickered toward Steven. She turned. Her eyes grew wide. They were a shade of green he'd never before seen. She blinked and just as fast, her expression shifted. Her ruby curled into a girlish smile. She lowered her curtain of lashes and tilted her head just so. He could feel his throat constrict.

"Why, Captain Butler. Why didn't you tell us you were bringing a guest?"

"My apologies, Mrs. Hamilton. May I introduce you to one of the sailors in my fleet, Mr. Steven Foster."

Steven felt a weight in his stomach. Mrs. Hamilton? Was she married? Surely, if she was, her husband was off on a battlefield somewhere.

She held out her hand. "Mr. Foster, please call me Scarlett. Mrs. Hamilton is so formal. It is an honor to meet another brave blockade runner."

He took her hand in his. It was so tiny. He was surprised she had found gloves that fit her. He lifted her delicate fingers to his lips and placed a chaste kiss on her upper knuckles. He instantly became aware of three truths: even if Mrs. Wilkes turned out to be a ninety-year-old crone, he would not be leaving this house until he was thrown out; being raised by Rhett Butler had enabled him to acquire all the charms and skills necessary to capture this magnificent creature; and God had a plan to make it up to him for giving him a prostitute for a mother.