Gone with the Wind 1. A Modest Proposal

From a distance Beau Wilkes looked just like his father. They had the same sun kissed hair, the same lanky frame. Face-to-face though it was obvious that he was the son of Melanie Hamilton, with that great woman's delicate bone structure and appraising eyes. It was those eyes that so clearly differed from his father's. While Ashley's eyes were always clouded in some far away thought, Beau's were completely clear and concerned with the moment. He was a quiet and serious man, but in a way that spoke of inner strength instead of any priggishness. He was popular. Not because he was witty or fun loving, but because his presence always comforted those around him, making them feel at ease.

He must have gotten that from his mother, Rhett realized. No matter how the world changed Melanie had always managed to stay just as well loved and popular because she always managed to fit in like a finely made antique that could be placed in any décor and still look like it belonged there. Rhett's own wife was more like the gawdy gold trimmed furniture that she was always drawn to, it would always stand out.

Rhett thought about the differences between the Wilkes and Butler families as he watched the young man from his office at the Atlanta National Bank. Beau was nervous, pacing back and forth along the tile hallway muttering to himself as he practiced some well rehearsed speech. Their appointment was for 9:00, a good half an hour ago, but Rhett just perused papers never actually looking at them. The business world was never very different from the scene at the card tables where he had first made his fortune. You had to play the player, not the cards. To that end, he deliberately kept Beau off balance, making him wait. Not only would it make him more nervous, it also gave Rhett time to really study the young man to try and get a sense of how to best proceed.

Finally he stood up and leisurely walked to the large oak door, still watching Beau through the glass on either side of it. "Beau," he said with deliberate coldness, "What on earth are you doing here?"

"We.. um… we had an appointment today… at least… that is…" Beau swallowed nervously and Rhett had to cough to conceal his laughter. Right now he didn't so much resemble either of his parents nearly as much as he seemed to be the embodiment of the nervous energy that consumed his deceased uncle, Charles Hamilton.

"Did we? Oh, yes, Scarlett did mention something about you stopping by to discuss something. Well, come on in then."

Beau walked into the wood paneled room cautiously, taking in décor. "Doesn't look much like the house, does it," Rhett joked as he motioned for Beau to sit on one of the leather backed chairs that sat on the near side of the desk. "I decorated this place personally, which was a new experience since your Aunt doesn't consult me on anything. Whoever said that a man's home was his castle was clearly never married."

On the word "married" Beau locked his focus on Rhett, who had raised an eyebrow at his previous joke. "Well, why don't you get down to it, my boy, I don't have all day."

He took a deep breath and launched into the well prepared oratory he'd been up all night practicing. "Thank you for taking the time to see me Captain Butler."

"Captain Butler? I suppose this is a serious matter if we're going to be resorting to formalities, Mister Wilkes."

Beau's cheeks turned a pale pink and he swallowed dryly. "I'm sorry if I seem to be acting oddly, Uncle Rhett. I'm just a little nervous."

"Really, I hadn't noticed."

"Well, it isn't as though I have a lot of practice at this. I mean, it isn't everyday that a man asks for…" he let his voice trail off.

"Asks for what?" Beau opened his mouth a few times hoping the right words would come out. Nothing did. Rhett knew he shouldn't be amused by Beau's obvious struggle, but he couldn't help it. Right now he didn't see Beau Wilkes as Wade's cousin or a boy that he'd known his entire life. At this moment he was a thief, trying to take away something that Rhett wasn't quite ready to give up, and so he decided to make Beau squirm a little longer.

"Of course I know why you're here. Actually, I'm surprised it took you this long. After all, you're at an age when you need to start preparing for your future." Rhett finally said, reaching in for a packet of paper from his desk. "I just need you to fill out an application."

"An application?"

"Of course. I may have known you your whole life, Beau, but the bank still needs your information if they're going to give you a loan."

"A loan?"

"Is there an echo in here? I mean, that is why you're here, isn't it? Your Aunt told me you wanted to talk to me about something important, and then you show up as nervous as a virgin on their wedding night. I naturally assumed you needed me to secure you a loan."

Beau leaned back in his chair leveling a cool gaze that Rhett was familiar with from his years at the card tables, one that tried to tell if he was bluffing. In his younger days Rhett wore a poker face that was second to none, at times so good that he had even managed to fool himself. But too many years of happiness and security, and a wife who he no longer needed to hide his feelings from, meant that he was out of practice. At least that is what he told himself when Beau was able to see through his game.

"Aunt Scarlett isn't going to be very happy when she finds out that you've been teasing me. Although I suspect Ella will find it hilarious."

"Just for my own edification, what gave me away? If I'm going to continue to partake in the gaming tables I need to learn how to hide my tell."

Beau shrugged, for a moment feeling the familiar banter that he'd always had with the man who he thought of as his Uncle instead of the strange tense interaction they had as of late. "It wasn't anything you did sir, it was what you said. In the length of out brief conversation you've already mentioned marriage and weddings twice. It's clear that the issue is on your mind."

In a flash Rhett's smile was gone, replaced with the cold aloof mask that he'd kept in Beau's presence lately. The temperature in the room seemed to drop suddenly, and to anyone looking through the windows they must have looked like strangers discussing some mundane piece of business.

Ella had warned him about this side of Rhett Butler. They had been sitting on the front porch of the Peachtree Street house watching the sky turn from pink to blue as night fell and talking about the future. Not a future together, that wasn't anything either of them dared to bring up for fear of rejection. No, they spoke about their individual dreams and goals as though they were characters in a book.

_"And what about children?" Ella asked, her voice so quiet he could barely hear it. At first he pretended that he hadn't heard her question, but she could tell by the way his body suddenly became rigid and tense that something was wrong._

_"Haven't you ever thought about it?" she prodded, looking at him with those big brown eyes flecked with green that he couldn't ever deny._

_"Of course I've thought about it. I've thought about how terrible it would be to lose the woman I loved because she wanted to sacrifice herself to motherhood." His voice sounded bitter, even to his own ears, and he expected her to respond with some type of standard cliché about how motherhood is a gift and that it was worth the danger to create a life. Those same empty saying he'd been hearing his whole life when people would talk about his beloved mother's death._

_But Ella didn't say anything. She just leaned closer to him, putting her head on his shoulder. It wasn't at all appropriate, and they both knew it. But the Butler's were out to a late dinner, and on the off chance one of Atlanta's Old Guard did see them like this, they'd keep it to themselves. Beau's mother and Ella's father had been so well respected, and their deaths so tragic, that the children's behavior was above reproach._

_"I used to think the same way. After Bonnie's accident I got rid of all my dolls. I threw them off the second floor landing and watched them break on the ground. If being a mother meant having to watch… if it meant that type of heartache, then I didn't want anything to do with it."_

_"You said you used to feel that way. What changed?"_

_Ella thought about it for a moment. She wasn't an introspective girl, instead opting to focus on living in the moment. It wasn't that she had her mother's penchant for putting off unpleasant things for some future tomorrow. While Scarlett stored away bad things allowing them rot and fester, Ella simply let them float away like a leaf caught up in the wind. Once they were gone she didn't dwell on them anymore, and instead was open to whatever life would hand to her next._

_Beau was able to make her really think about things that had happened long ago. Things that she had just accepted absently in the past. But it wasn't a bad thing. If anything, she enjoyed her talks with Beau so much because they always left her with a better understanding of herself. As she opened up her memory to those dark days after Bonnie's death when everything seemed to fall apart she shivered slightly, leaning her head more tightly against Beau's shoulder._

_"Something changed," she finally said. "When Mother and Daddy came together again, when they finally fought their way back to each other… I wasn't very old then but I can remember how everything was different after that. It was like all of the times before was just some bad dream that we woke up from. I guess that's when I realized that I didn't need to be afraid of being a mother, or afraid of whatever else might happen. You can survive anything and end up better because of it if you just keep trying."_

_She tried to lift her head away, but Beau held her in place gently, enjoying the feel of her soft red hair against his cheek. "I wish I could believe that, but I'm not sure that everyone has that ability to survive. Mother didn't. Father… he's never really healed. I know that if I lost you I'd…"_

_This time Beau was the one who tried to move while Ella stilled him. He hadn't meant to say so much, but once again he found himself losing all semblance of control when he was around her. It was hard to remember that this was the girl that he had spent his childhood teasing and ignoring as he and Wade would play as soldiers. She'd always been the annoying tag along of his cousin and best friend. A nuisance and nothing more. Then, one day, he came home from school to find that nuisance had become the single most breathtaking woman he'd ever seen._

_But he didn't tell her. How could he? They had been practically raised as family and he was certain that she didn't see him as anything more than a cousin. He could never compete with the suitors that her adopted father would bring around. They were the sons of business acquaintances and heirs to empires who were worldly and sophisticated. Rhett Butler never openly championed any of the suitors to Ella, he never even suggested that was what they were. He would just trot them in front of her like a horse show, while he waited to see if anything caught her eye._

_Beau knew that he didn't deserve her. That he could never hope to win her affections. So, instead he took up any excuse to be close to her. So he began ferrying her on errands around town, and talking to her about everything under the sun. He kept his feelings hidden, for fear of scaring her away._

_Now, in one evening, he'd let a slip of the tongue ruin everything. He refused to look at her, afraid to see her laughing at him or mocking his forwardness. When he finally couldn't stand the silence any more he was shocked by what he saw in her face. No scorn. No joking. Just her lips in a small smile while the green flecks in her eyes bubbled over._

_"You love me," she finally said. He sighed deeply, and she shushed him. "Oh, don't even try and deny it. Please don't ruin this. I've waited much too long for you to start making excuses now."_

_The sun was gone now, and although the moon was far from full, the couple glowed in the darkness from the excitement of requited love. Beau wanted to kiss her, every part of him screamed to just lean over and take her pale lips against his and show her all the things that he didn't have the words to explain. But it wasn't proper, and he respected Ella far too much to ever take a liberty like that. His love for her was so great that he wouldn't sully it with the baser feelings she also stirred in him. Feelings that left him confused because, certainly, no gentleman would ever want to do these things to the woman he loved._

_The sound of a carriage could be heard coming up the street. The Butler's would be home in a few minutes. "I suppose that I need to make my intentions known. Hopefully, Uncle Rhett left his dueling pistols back in Charleston."_

_Ella's face became greatly concerned. "I know it wasn't much of a joke, but at least give me a smile," Beau chided._

_"Let's not tell them," she said quickly, the words tumbling over themselves. "If they know that we're courting we won't be able to spend nearly as much time together. And everything will get strange. And Daddy won't be able to handle it."_

_"He'll be thrilled. I don't know if you're aware of it, but he's quite fond of me."_

_Ella still didn't smile. In fact, her face was pale and grave. "You don't understand. There's a side to him that you don't know. A side you've never seen. He's just so protective of me and if he knew…"_

_Before she could say anything else the carriage was in front of the house. Ella stood up and stood far away from Beau, who was still confused about the sudden shift in her mood. Rhett and Scarlett were walking up the front drive arm in arm whispering between themselves. After something he said Scarlett slapped him playfully. "That's terrible. A man of your age shouldn't say those things."_

_"My sweet, when I am too old to say, or do, those things you might as well put me out of my misery."_

_Rhett looked away from Scarlett to see Ella standing demurely on the front porch. A second later he noticed Beau seated alone on the white wooden bench on the other side of the landing. "Good evening Ella. You didn't need to wait up for us, it is rather late. Wouldn't you agree Beau?"_

_"You're right Uncle Rhett. It's just that I wanted to…"_

_"He wanted to leave," Ella jumped in to explain, "But I was just so lonely that I kept talking and talking and talking to him to make him stay. He was so sweet to put up with my babbling. But you're right, it is very late now."_

_Rhett thinned his lips as he trained his gaze between his adopted daughter and Beau. He looked annoyed, so maybe her story about forcing him to stay was correct. On the other hand, Ella had a strange glow about her that he couldn't quite pinpoint. Something that made him suspicious that there was more going on. Before he could ask any questions he heard Scarlett sigh loudly and begin tapping her foot in annoyance. His desire to figure out what was going on with the children became less important that getting his wife upstairs and to the bedroom before the romantic mood set by a night of dancing was lost._

_"Good night Ella," he said as he escorted Scarlett inside. "And Goodbye, Mr. Wilkes."_

Ever since that night on the porch Beau had detected a change in Rhett as this cold indifference seemed to settle over many of their interactions. Ella had been correct in her fears, but Beau was certain that he could overcome any objection that her father had to their match.

"I can secure a good future for Ella. Now that I've graduated I'm spending more time at the mill, and business is up 23%."

"I suspect that has less to do with your presence than the fact that your father is spending less time there. A trained bear could run that place better than Ashley Wilkes does." Rhett was expecting some type of impassioned defense of his father, but instead the young man just shrugged.

"He's never had a head for business, that's true enough. I'd like to share my business plan with you sometime, to get your opinion of it. I want you to know that your daughter will always be provided for. You needn't fear that."

"I assure you, Beau, I'm not afraid for Ella's future." The truth was that whoever Ella married would secure a windfall that would more than provide for the couple without ever having to work a day in their lives.

Rhett had realized that the world was inherently unfair for women, and far too many of them were forced into matrimony just to insure their survival. It was just that type of arrangement that had lead to Ella's very existence. He had made sure that his girl would never have to face that fate.

Rhett let his mind wander while Beau continued to talk about things like family lineage, and good breeding, and Ella's place in the Wilkes' line. Nothing that Beau had said had caused Rhett to change his opinion. In fact, this line of conversation, with its obsession with such mundane matters as money and ancestry, had affirmed his earlier suspicions.

"You don't need to continue." Rhett leaned back in his chair and gave Beau the coldest look he'd ever seen. His eyes looked just like two pieces of black coal.

For as long as he could remember, Beau had heard stories about Rhett Butler being a blackguard and scoundrel. Stories of duels and debauchery that seemed incompatible with the boisterous man who always took time to play silly games with him. For the first time he realized that they were all true. The man who was looking at him now was a stranger, and one who seemed capable of anything.

"Beau, you're a fine young man. And I'm sure one day you'll make some woman a fine and upstanding husband. But it won't be Ella."

There was finality in his words, but Beau wasn't ready to give up yet. "I'm sure that there must be something that I can do. Something to convince you to change your mind."

Rhett's eyes sparked for a moment. "You sound pretty impassioned. Do I need to worry about you two running off to elope?"

"Certainly not! I would never disgrace our families like that."

The light was extinguished and Rhett made some excuse about needing to get back to work. He then looked back at his paperwork as if he were alone. Eventually, he was.


	2. Always a Gentleman

The sound of music echoed through the large hallways of the Peachtree Street mansion. Beau, who had been left alone in the front entryway when Scarlett had stormed off, followed the sound to the rarely used parlor at the back of the house. He stood in the doorway watching Ella as she leaned over the instrument, her elegant fingers skimming the keys effortlessly.

It was almost noon, and the high sun caught the strawberry-blonde highlights in Ella's hair making her seem like she had a halo atop her head. She was an angel; lovely, and kind, and sweet, and selfless.

Even as he thought about her angelic qualities he felt something darker stirring in his mind, an unwanted fantasy that took control of his thoughts.

They were alone except for the few servants who wouldn't think of interrupting them. He could close this door behind him and have her alone. She would embrace him, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his as she had done a few times in the past. Only this time he would push back, and when she tried to complain he would kiss her. Beau had yet to taste her mouth, although the way that Ella would sometimes purse her lips at him made it clear that she wouldn't begrudge him that liberty. Today, though, he could kiss her. He could show her how overpowering his feelings were for her. And when she responded in kind he would push her gently back against the piano until she was trapped against him. Then he would reach his hand to feel her soft cheek before bringing it lower, to her neck and then...

"Beau! How long have you been spying on me?"

Beau shook his head, trying to erase that grotesque dream from his mind. Lately these types of graphic scenes had been clouding his consciousness more and more and it worried Beau to no end. It wasn't the type of thing he could talk to anyone about. Certainly not his father or Great Uncle Henry, who both were such find gentleman that they probably never had to deal with these sinful thoughts. Normally he'd ask Wade for his advice, but since his sister was the subject of these fantasies that wasn't an option. For a moment he wondered if maybe Rhett wasn't right to deny his consent to their marriage. After all, these were not the thoughts a man should have about the woman who would be his wife.

"So," Ella asked, taking one of Beau's hands between her own, "How did it go?"

"How did what go?"

"Your meeting with my father."

Beau grimaced, which looked comical on his delicate features, like a poodle trying to look intimidating. Ella put her hand against his cheek and laughed airily, although Beau's expression remained grave.

"That bad?" she asked.

"Wait, how did you know anyway? Did Scarlett tell you?"

He hadn't told Ella about his plan to propose to her, in part because he wanted to be sure that their parents agreed first, but mostly because he hadn't yet decided the best way to ask. Parts of it were clear in his mind. The ring would be his mother's, although he had the simple gold band altered to include a diamond which was more of the style these days. He knew that he wanted the proposal to take place on the front porch where they had first openly declared their feelings for each other. The only thing he didn't know was exactly what he was going to say.

In school, Beau had been on the debate team and impressed his peers with his rhetoric. He could speak extemporaneously on the reasons why Ella should marry him using irrefutable logic to make his case. But logic clearly wasn't going to help him here. It certainly hadn't helped with Rhett Butler. No, Ella needed to be wooed with pretty words. With poetry. The types of things that Beau could never manage to say without rolling his eyes.

Mother didn't tell me anything. You're just very bad at hiding things from me. Which is why I know that things went very badly today. What happened?"

She was looking up at him with such so hope that his first instinct was to lie. To tell her that Rhett had been overjoyed and that they could be married in the Spring. Anything to keep her smiling up at him like that.

But he knew that Ella wasn't like most girls. She wasn't some fragile figure that needed to be shielded from the unpleasant truths of life. All the women in his acquaintance were nervous sorts, like Aunt Pitty or India, who needed to be kept in the dark for their own good. The only exception was Scarlett, who was more like a man in the way she'd rush headlong into any situation to defend those she loved.

Ella was different. In her life she'd dealt with the loss of her father, the death of a beloved sister, the uncertainty of the turbulent Butler marriage, and the gossips who tried to tear her family down at every turn. Through it all she managed to handle herself with grace, never raising her voice or letting an unkind work pass her mouth. She was strong in a way he'd never known a woman to be.

Maybe, if Melanie hadn't died when he was so young, he would have recognized these very traits in his own mother.

"I'm sorry, Ella, but he said no."

"And?"

"And what?"

She rolled her eyes, annoyed at how dense men could be. "''Always say no the first offer.'" She mimicked the Charleston drawl perfectly. "It's a negotiation tactic. He says no, and then you are supposed to make a counter offer. "

"Ella! That's terrible. Bartering for marriage like it's the middle ages or something. Should I offer a cow in exchange for you?"

"More like a heard, at the very least. I'm quite a special lady." She held her chin high as if he had insulted her honor, but then she collapsed in a fit of giggles. "I'm sure what he wanted was some type of assurance on your part that I'd be taken care of. You should show him your plans for the mill. He'd be impressed with your business sense."

"I tried that. He didn't care. I told him all of the reasons why we should be wed. Our similar temperaments. The fact that our families are so close. He wasn't swayed at all."

Ella's face fell and it broke Beau's heart. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it without thinking. He just wanted to see her happy again.

"Don't worry," he assured her. "I'm sure that we'll be able to change his mind. Aunt Scarlett is championing our cause and she tends to get her way."


	3. Trust Me

This was the calm before the storm.

During the years when Rhett was running the blockade there were few things he found lovelier than the sight of a squall. There was something so primal and life affirming about being in the middle of the storms fury and watching the destruction unfold. More than once he'd stay on deck while the men were down below trying to sleep or drink their way through the worst of it. But Rhett would sit, transfixed by the fury of nature.

So it shouldn't have been surprising that he had been so attracted to Scarlett's temper. Her anger was as powerful as a hurricane, and just as enjoyable to watch. There was no doubt that she would be upset about his decision. Ever since the night when they had caught Ella and Beau on the porch she had been positively thrilled about their growing closeness. She was so wrapped up in her daydreams of a Butler-Wilkes union that she never noticed how her husband would sulk as she laid out elaborate plans about rebuilding Twelve Oaks and merging the back fields together, leading to twice the cotton yield with only a small increase in expenses.

Oh, Scarlett would be mad. More angry than she had been in years. The thought of his wife with her Irish up was so exciting that he had to fight his instinct to run home immediately so he could see her the moment she heard the news. He restrained himself though knowing that in the hours until he was expected back home she would just work her up in a heightened state. Instead, he busied himself with some correspondence and a few meetings although he was clearly distracted.

"Mister Butler? If this isn't a good time I can come back tomorrow" Congressman Brooks had an offended look on his wide face. Rhett shook his head and asked the man to proceed. The distinguished gentleman continued his plea for Rhett to back his senatorial campaign. In exchange Rhett would get the endorsement for Brooks' soon to be open seat in the State House. But Rhett's thoughts continued to linger on how lovely Scarlett looked when she was angry. When she was in that state, with her green eyes narrowed and her magnolia white skin flushed red, she looked exactly like she did in the moments she would be underneath him, teetering on the precipice of release.

"I'm flattered that you think I have a career in politics," Rhett said, pulling himself back to reality, "but I'm afraid that I don't have the temperament for life in public office."

"I disagree. I'll admit that at one point you were the subject of some rather lurid pieces of gossip, but that's all in the past."

There was a loud crash from the front of the bank. Both men turned to look, Brooks with confusion and Rhett with exhilaration. "You see, Congressman, I just don't have the sort of calm nature that you need to be a politician. And neither does me wife, speaking of which…"

"You utter inexcusable unbelievable bastard."

Scarlett had thrown the door open with such force that the whole room rattled. The poor bank manager was running behind her, trying to explain that she needed to wait up front. Rhett dismissed the man with a pointed glare and a wave of his hand. He should know better by now. When Scarlett was in one of these moods there was no point in trying to talk to her.

"Congressman Brooks," Rhett said to his guest "I don't believe you've had the chance to meet my wife, Scarlett."

"It's a pleasure," she said curtly before turning her narrowed gaze back at her husband who was looking just as intently at her. He could tell that she had headed here in a hurry. The plain yellow dress she wore, while being charming, was far too simple to have been chosen intentionally. Her hair was in a sweeping updo that had been hastily pinned in place so that tendrils fell out and framed her nude face.

As the couple stared each other down the congressman quickly announced that he needed to leave for some appointment he'd only just remembered.

"I wouldn't want to be in that man's shoes right now," Brooks said to the bank manager who laughed softly.

"It's the strangest thing. Every time Mrs. Butler comes in one of these snits they lock themselves away for an hour, and then he spends the rest of the day ginning like an idiot." As they watched Rhett lower the blinds on the office windows both men looked on with admiration.

"Now where were we?" Rhett said as he finished lowering the blinds. "Ah yes, you'd just remarked on my being an 'utter inexcusable and unbelievable bastard'. Why don't you pick up from there?"

"How could you? It's just so… and… I… Why, there aren't even words to express how I feel."

"In that case, can I fetch you some small bauble to throw? Or would you prefer to just slap me? I know how angry you must be with me."

Some things never changed, and Scarlett's unwillingness to bow to expectations was one of those impermeable laws of nature. If you said it was day, she'd argue it was night just to be difficult. But her contrary nature could also be used against her, as Rhett had discovered when he had manipulated Scarlett into getting rid of the mills all those years ago.

At his suggestion that she was angry, Scarlett immediately contended that she wasn't.

"I'm disappointed," she contended, her face still flushed and hands on her hips. "I can't believe that you'd hurt poor Ella and Beau because of your irrational hatred of Ashley."

"Believe it or not, darling, you do not sit at the center of the universe. Occasionally, I do make decisions for reasons of my own." She bristled to his laughter and felt her palm itching to slap him, but he quickly took her hands in his own tenderly.

"This has nothing to do with Ashley," he asserted. "I'm not going to pretend that I like the man, but if I felt that Beau was the right match for Ella I wouldn't care if his father was the Devil himself. But I just don't think they are right for each other."

"Oh, and I suppose that you think that the right person for Ella would be one of those Du Pont or Gould boys? Or do you think that I haven't noticed the way you bring those rich Yankees around?"

"I don't care if Ella were to marry a pauper. Although, I do know of some rather pleasant unions based on money… at least in part." He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed it, taking pride in the three second smile she gave him before remembering she was supposed to be angry. With a huff she sat in his chair, crossing her arms across her chest like a petulant child.

How could he explain his reasons to her? As much as he loved Scarlett he also understood that she wasn't one to look deeply or critically at any topic. She was a woman of action, not philosophizing. She wouldn't understand his concerns that Ella's passive nature was actually a well constructed façade that needed to be challenged. His daughter was too passive for her own good. She was the type that wouldn't swat a mosquito that was biting her for fear of upsetting the creature's feelings. Ella needed a husband who would bring out the more spirited nature he knew was underneath.

Rhett had come to realize that marriage was a complicated institution. At times it was a functional, almost business type union. Other times it demanded romance and desire. Sometimes it was just a quiet companionship to stave off the feelings of loneliness that every human has. People married for all of these reasons, but the truly good marriages needed to have all of them.

He and Scarlett had eventually managed to have that type of relationship, but until that time things had been a nightmare. He couldn't sign off on Beau and Ella's relationship with the hope that their similarities would eventually blossom into love. And while Rhett had once said that love in marriage was highly overrated, he now disagreed. Hadn't it been his obsessive desire for Scarlett that led him back to her even against his better judgment?

He couldn't explain these things to his wife, so instead he kneeled before her, putting his hands on her knees. "Do you trust me?"

"No."

One of Rhett's hands moved to her ankle, which he began softly stroking. "No?"

"Well… you have done some pretty sneaky things. Like that whole mess with the factory."

His hand slowly drifted to her calf. "That was business. You don't get to be as wealthy as I am without being untrustworthy in business. But when it comes to us, and our family, you trust me, don't you?" His hand was now tickling the back of her knee and turned to her thigh.

Her resolve was breaking, as it always did with the intoxicating combination of his gentle touch and reassuring words. It almost physically pained her to say it but she had to admit the truth. "I trust you."

The words were muttered under her breath, but he heard them and rewarded her by reaching his other hand underneath her dress.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" he joked as his hands expertly stroked the soft flesh underneath her skirts. She had left the house in a hurry and had just thrown the dress on over her chemise and a pair of silk panties. It made it easier for him to explore her body with his hands.

Scarlett didn't fight him as he caressed her body. There had been a time when she would have been terribly ashamed by his attentions. To this day if she took the time to actually think about the things that they would do together it left her confused and embarrassed. For it wasn't anything like the marital relations that she heard about from other women, even the trashy carpetbaggers wives didn't relate stories close to what her marriage bed held.

To begin with, there wasn't always a bed involved. Her office desk, the dining room table, even the wall of the stable all had been used at one time or another for their couplings. And the relations themselves often took unusual turns. Sometimes he would surprise her unexpectedly in one of the rooms of the cavernous house and take her quickly, without even removing all their clothes. She'd be pushed against the wall, with her dress pushed up and her legs wrapped around his waist while he thrust into her sharply, skirting the edged of pleasure and pain.

"You're so beautiful," he'd say hoarsely. "I just could wait another second to have you. You have no idea what you do to me? I can barely make it through the day I spend so much time thinking about being inside of you again." It would be his words, the loving endearments and sincere flattery, that would tip the scales to lead to her release. It certainly wasn't because it was comfortable. Although after she had complained about how her neck was sore after these unusual encounters, Rhett had been sure to place a hand behind her head to try and make it more enjoyable. He could be strangely considerate like that.

Other times he would spend hours exploring every part of her body with his hands and mouth. He'd place a long kiss on every inch of skin from the top of her forehead to her toes, which he'd take into his mouth as she giggled at the ticklish sensation. Usually these were a prelude to more conventional relations, although sometimes he seemed satisfied with just leaving her in ecstasy. But Rhett Butler never gave anything without expecting something in return, be it a French made hat or a night of pleasure. Usually the sessions where he would delay his own release in favor of pleasing her would usually occur just before he would try something new in their lovemaking. Usually, she would be in such a state of euphoria that she'd happily acquiesce to whatever request he made, although sometimes she'd grow tense and get the worried crease in her forehead that meant she was feeling ashamed. At those times Rhett would lean in, his moustache tickling her ear, and whisper, "Trust me."

Trust. If someone had taken her aside that day at Twelve Oaks and told her that one day she'd trust Rhett Butler she would thought they were crazy. Even at their wedding, she would have bet Tara that she'd never actually trust the man she had made her vows to. The night that Melanie died and she had realized the depth of her love for her husband she still would have promised that she would never trust him.

Love was a decision made with the heart, but trust came from the head. This was the man who had left her alone in the middle of a battlefield. The person who had told her to hope for a miscarriage when she was pregnant with his child. There was no logical reason on earth for her to ever place her trust in him. She shouldn't ever trust anyone else after a life spent being constantly disappointed in everyone other than herself. And yet…

Scarlett looked down at Rhett, his eyes closed and a sinful smile on his face as he continued messaging her body occasionally brushing past her swollen sex and sighing as her body trembled in response. She reached down and placed her hands on either side of his face.

"I do trust you," she said, no trace of her earlier hesitation in her voice. "I didn't used to. I once swore that I never would. But I do trust you."

He opened his eyes which were dark with desire. His hands moved to the place he had been teasing for the last few minutes with only light grazes. No longer teasing he slid a hand underneath her silk coverings and enjoyed the slick folds that demonstrated how very much she wanted him. She leaned into the caress, trying to drive him inside of her, but he held back taking time to skate around the outer lips.

"You trust me," he repeated triumphantly. With a deep breath, and a groan of annoyance that his wife soon copied, Rhett pulled his hand away. Before she could ask any questions he was on his feet, offering her his hand. "Stand up."

Her eyes narrowed but she complied finding herself level to his upper chest, where she placed a soft kiss. He had begun work on removing her dress and the small row of buttons down the front of it. With his hands busied elsewhere Scarlett's mind began to come out of the fog of desire.

"We can't do this here," she said, swatting his hand away. He had already unfastened enough of the buttons that he could pull her dress off. She was clad only in her chemise, and her face was taking on that familiar look of anger.

He wanted to remind her that they'd done this before, but he knew that would just lead her to get angry again and he was done with their bickering foreplay. He began removing his own clothes quickly. Although he enjoyed it when Scarlett would handle the task of disrobing him, her small soft hands pressing against his body softly as she concentrated on the task, she moved too slowly. His teasing caresses to Scarlett had ended up causing him more torment than her.

"The door is locked. The blinds are drawn. As far as all of Atlanta is concerned I'm in here getting a good tongue lashing."

Scarlett blushed at his unintentional double entendre. "I didn't mean that," he said as he removed the rest of her clothes. "Actually, my thoughts lie in a different direction."

"Rhett…" she said nervously.

"Just trust me, my love," he said, sitting down nude in his chair. Scarlett's couldn't help but stare at his manhood sticking straight up in the air. He wished that he could photograph her face in that moment as she looked at him with a mix of desire and possession in her expressive green eyes.

He held out his hand, "Come here."

Scarlett stepped forward, realizing what he had in mind. The first time he had asked her to straddle him and make love sitting up it had been immediately after he had left her screaming and writing while he licked between her thighs. She would have done anything he asked at that moment she had been left so wanton. But to her surprise she enjoyed the experience, the way it left her in control as she grinded against Rhett at her own pace. She was about to straddle Rhett when he stopped her.

"Turn around."

She raised her eyebrow but complied. "I know," she muttered, "Trust you."

Rhett grabbed her hips and gently lowered her body until his erection pressed against the tip of her slick opening. As he pulled her down they both moaned at the feeling of him so deep inside of her, warm and wet. He wrapped his arms tightly around her abdomen, pulling her closer to him as he began kissing the back of her neck, nipping softly at the skin. His hands moved up to her breasts which he grasped in his large hands, kneading them roughly as he pulled her back and forth against his length.

It sensations overwhelmed Scarlett's body, and she felt as limp as a ragdoll under Rhett's handling. He head felt heavy and she rolled it back leaning against Rhett's shoulder. He began nipping at her earlobe and the side of her neck until she turned towards him for a deep kiss.

This was so different from the argument that she had expected when she headed down here. She was primed for him to be icy and standoffish, and was ready to fight that with ice with fire. But he had once again done the unexpected and now they were bonded, in body and spirit, as they both pressed each other on to release. Wasn't that one of the reasons they had managed to find their way back to each other, because they both defied expectations?

But before Scarlett could reach any deep insight on the matter, Rhett's fingers had worked their way to her sensitive bud and she could think of nothing other than the name of the man doing this to her.

"Rhett," she repeated over and over like a prayer until she was no longer speaking, just mumbling and moaning. He could feel her tighten around him and it spurred him to moan her own name before they both collapsed against each other.


	4. Honeymoon

Scarlett had returned from the bank in a gloriously languid mood at least until Ella had asked her if she'd been able to convince Rhett to change his mind. That was when she realized her sneak of a husband had somehow been able to distract her from the reason she went down to see him.

Although the distraction itself had been rather enjoyable.

Still, Scarlett wasn't ready to give up on her mission to see Beau and Ella together. She would just need to try and find a different way to convince Rhett. Although what exactly that meant she wasn't sure.

As a young woman it had always been easy to convince men to do whatever she wanted. She just smiled slightly and fluttered her eyelashes and men would do her bidding. Charles Hamilton had been so flustered by these tricks that she had been able to send him off to war having shared only one terrible night together as man and wife. Her wedding night had been a nightmare. She had been told that it would be unpleasant but she hadn't been prepared for how awkward and painful it would be. That one night had resulted in Wade. And while she had grown to love her son, at the time discovering that night had resulted in a pregnancy just made it worse.

With Frank she had just bullied him to doing whatever she wished. He was such a spineless creature that she couldn't help but walk all over him, even when she was trying to be nice. She had been able to talk Frank into delaying the consummation of their wedding until a week after the ceremony by making excuses about headaches and fatigue. It wasn't just that he wasn't attracted to him, Scarlett had never expected to feel anything like desire for her husband, but that she wanted to hold on to some last little bit of control. As far as Scarlett was concerned the wedding march might as well been a funeral dirge. Once a woman became a wife she had to give up everything; her name, her belongings, and ever her body became the property of her husband.

But Rhett was different from her previous husbands. Different from every other man she'd ever know. The tricks that had served her so well in the past were useless on him, and would usually be met with derision. She couldn't manipulate him, a fact she discovered on their wedding night.

_Rhett hadn't spoken a word to Scarlett since he'd said "I Do". At first his distance had annoyed her, after all she was the Bride and should have been the center of attention. Eventually she came to appreciate his silence, especially after the tense weeks before their wedding. His moods were always a mystery to her but he had become even more mercurial as the wedding date approached._

_One moment he could be charming as he helped her shop for new dresses or listen to her thoughts about some design aspect for the house. Then, suddenly, he'd become cold and distant. "My Pet," he said during one of these times, "Have you ever heard the expression that those who marry for money earn every penny of it?" And then just as quickly he'd be making her laugh with unseemly jokes or sarcastically reciting love poems._

_He had actually been quite charming at the wedding reception. He spent time talking to Wade and little Ella to find out what they wanted from New Orleans. Then he'd complimented Melanie and Pitty on their old dresses, acting as if they were the height of fashion. Henry Hamilton, Mammy, and even Ashley Wilkes talked to Rhett. Everyone but his new wife._

_The train for New Orleans wouldn't leave until the morning, and so they were booked in the Honeymoon Suite at the National Hotel. Their bags had been brought up while they were at the reception, so the couple was completely alone as Rhett pulled the key from his pocket and opened the door. When Scarlett didn't make a move to enter he said is first words to her as a husband._

_"Changed your mind?"_

_She ignored his comment. "You know, it is tradition for the groom to carry the bride across the threshold."_

_Rhett shrugged. "It's also tradition for the bride to actually believe her own wedding vows when she says them. But I think we all know your positions on loving, honoring and obeying."_

_She pushed past him and tried to slam the door behind her but he caught it gracefully and strode into the room nonchalantly. Scarlett had her hands on her hips ready to lay into him but he just laughed at her childishness. "All I'm saying is that we aren't a traditional couple. Is that so bad?"_

_Instead of fighting with him Scarlett began to look around the room. It was the largest suite at the hotel and featured only the best fabrics and furniture. More than that, there were dozens of tiny details that had come together to make it almost homey. There was a box of Scarlett's favorite candies on an end table next to a large arrangement of fragrant lavender stems and magnolias. A bottle of chilling champagne and two glasses was on another table along with a basket of pastries._

_"Do you like it?" he asked, almost expectantly. But that didn't make sense. Rhett Butler was aloof and distant and diffident. Not expectant._

_Except this wasn't like any of her previous encounters with Rhett. Suddenly the small touches that had made her feel at home made her feel nauseous. He had gone through the trouble of stocking the room with her favorite things in some attempt to seduce her. As if she could be so easily swayed._

_Scarlett put her hand to her head in an exaggerated manner and began walking towards the bedroom. "It's been such a stressful day. I think I'm just going to go to bed. Goodnight Rhett."_

_She could feel him watching her as she walked to the bedroom but she didn't dare look back at him. Lot's wife turned into a pillar of salt when she made the mistake of looking back, but that would have been a blessing compared to the fight she expected from Rhett when she announced that she'd be skipping their wedding night. With each step she expected him to start calling her out on her action, she could almost hear him mocking her for not being able to lay in the bed she made by agreeing to marry him. But he was silent._

_A part of her was disappointed. For years Rhett had been talking about how much he wanted her. Now that she was his, in the eyes of God and the law, it was as if he didn't care. Even Frank Kennedy had complained a little when she'd told him the same story on their wedding night. It just didn't make sense._

_She didn't notice Rhett follow her to the room so when she sat down at the vanity to begin the ritual of unpinning her hair she was startled to see his reflection._

_"I admit I wasn't really paying attention during the ceremony," he explained, "but I believe there was something about staying with you in sickness and health. Do you have a headache?"_

_"No… I mean… yes. A small one. Really, it would be best for me to be alone."_

_Rhett stood behind her looking at her through the mirror's reflection with great deliberation, like a chess played contemplating his next move. One hand came to rest on the back of her neck and slowly he began to message the muscles there with his fingers._

_"Women and your complicated hairstyles. It's like wearing a ten pound rock on your head. Of course you have a headache." His other hand started to pull the pins and combs out of her hair her think mane fell down her back in a cascade._

_To anyone watching the scene they might have appeared to be a loving couple completely at peace with each other, but in truth there was a battle raging in both of them. Scarlett had closed her eyes, but her face was scrunched with tension as she tried to maintain control of her body's responses. There was nothing overtly sexual about what Rhett was doing to her, but in some ways it felt too intimate to be proper._

_Rhett was having a similar problem as he ran his hand through her thick black locks. It was a small blessing that Scarlett had closed her eyes because he couldn't keep the boyish grin from his face at being so close to the woman he had wanted for so long. Tempered with the excitement was a good deal of annoyance. Not at Scarlett. He had been well prepared for her to pull some stunt like this. What was not expected was his own juvenile response to her. The man of the world- the calculating businessman, notorious blackguard, and unapologetic womanizer- was positively giddy at being able to brush out a woman's hair. He was no better than those idiots who had been fawning all over her at the Wilkes' Barbecue on the day they met._

_"We should get you out of that dress," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sure that you have that corset much too tight, it's probably cutting off all your circulation."_

_For a moment she tried to think of some excuse, but her mind had been lulled to sleep by his earlier touches. Wordlessly he began unbuttoning her dress and then removing her clothes until she was only in her chemise. Rhett's breathing was heavy behind her and she could feel him press against her as he leaned against her ear._

_"How do you feel?"_

_"Wonderful," she said in a daze, before realizing her mistake. Before she had a chance to say anything else he had turned her around and began kissing her until she forgot why she had been fighting against this in the first place._

Throughout their marriage he had always been able to turn the tables on her. It did make like exciting, but it was also infuriating. Still, there had to be some way to make him change his mind. Maybe using those same tricks that he'd always used on her.


	5. Plans Coming Together

From the moment Rhett stepped inside the ornate wood door that evening he had felt as if he had gone through a time machine to the past when a heavy curtain of anxiety was as much of the home's décor as cherubs and gilt edged mirrors.

He had called it a house of horrors at the time, but hindsight had helped to revise that position. Yes, the home was the scene of some things that haunted him to this day but there were some good memories too.

This was the home where his Bonnie was conceived and born. The place where she lived her entire life, save for the few months when he ran away with her. It was the place where Scarlett had finally confessed her love for him. This was the setting of their reunion when they both decided to stop running from their destiny.

Looking back was always a dangerous prospect. In some ways he admired Scarlett's ability to live in the moment, packing away the past like a winter coat that was no longer needed come spring. Although he knew better than anyone that she had never been able to completely erase those memories. He'd be the one to hold her in the middle of the night when she'd be thrashing about, calling out to her lost children through tears.

For Rhett, the only way to deal with the past was through examining it like a coroner completing an autopsy on a corpse to discover what had happened. Alcohol often aided in this practice, at least enough to force him to abandon his stubborn pride in order to see his own failures. After that more alcohol was needed to dull the guilt he would feel upon recognizing his actions.

As much as he had tried to place the blame for their problems at Scarlett's feet, he was equally culpable. Maybe even more so. After all, she had never made any attempt to hide the fact that she was infatuated with Ashley Wilkes. She had been brutally honest about her feelings. It was Rhett who had hid his emotions behind sarcastic jokes alternating with brief moment of true affection.

This very house was an example of his misguided actions towards his wife. He had authorized her to build as grand a home as she wanted, listening to her plan out each and every detail without once putting in his own input. Then, once it was ready, he'd insulted it at every turn. The truth was he didn't care what the house looked like. He just wanted her to be happy. Well, to be happy and to also fall madly in love with him.

Maybe he had spent to long associating with whores instead of proper women, because he really had believed that he could buy Scarlett's love. But in the end it wasn't this mansion, or the expensive jewelry, or even the money he spent restoring Tara that had won her affection. It was the simple knowledge that he loved her.

At times he was haunted by the fact that if he had only confessed his love to her sooner their lives could have been different. Would Bonnie still be alive if she had been born into a home filled with love instead of one-upmanship? Would their unborn child have lived if he hadn't been so intent on hurting Scarlett when he came back from his trip? Would there have been other Butler children if she hadn't suffered that accident?

What if? That question was the first step on the path towards insanity. There was no way to change anything. The only way to atone for the past was to make the right decisions in the present. Which is why he had to be sure that Beau was the right person for Ella. She was his daughter now, the only one he would ever have, and he couldn't live with the idea of her spending her life in a marriage based on anything less than love.

Rhett was lost in these thoughts as he sat at the head of the long dinner table. Scarlett was equally quiet at the other end, although it was clear she was thinking deeply about something. Sitting between them was Ella, who felt oddly relieved at the contemplative mood that home was in this evening. She didn't think she could feign interest in normal conversation tonight when all she could think about was Beau.

Ella just knew that she and Beau were perfect for each other even though she didn't know how to explain that to anyone else. When she was around him she felt safe. She'd always felt physically protected. Wade sometimes had nightmares about being hungry and poor after the war, but Ella had always lived a life of plentitude. Anything that she had wanted was gladly provided by her parents. Everything but their attention.

Ella had made peace with the fact that Scarlett was the best mother that she knew how to be. She wasn't like other mothers that baked cookies and sang songs and doted on their children as the center of their universe. But as she got older Ella grew to appreciate her mother's more hands off approach. While she saw her friends being smothered in their teenage years by women who couldn't imagine their lives without a child to care for, Ella was free from those chains of guilt and duty. Still, sometimes she wished that she could sit and talk with her mother without feeling like she was getting in Scarlett's way.

Her relationship with Rhett was more complicated. On one hand, he was the only father that she had ever known. When he adopted Ella it only made legal the bond that she had always felt was there. But as much as Ella loved Rhett she always understood that she wasn't at the top of his priorities. When she was a child it was Bonnie that sat at the center of his universe. After her death he descended into alcohol and nights out at some place that would only be whispered when it was mentioned. Then he had left all together, without even saying goodbye to her. Then he was back again, this time for good, and it was clear that Scarlett now occupied the place that Bonnie once did.

It wasn't that she was jealous, not exactly. It was just that she wondered what it would be like to have someone love her in that way; to be the focus of such intense feelings instead of being in the shadows of them.

There were times when she felt the first stirrings of that type of passion from Beau. When they were alone he wasn't so reserved and noble, but would laugh and play jokes. He could be so funny when he wanted to be, doing impressions of the well respected families in town or making up silly songs while she played at the piano. She felt carefree around him, like she could almost float on air from the lightness of her spirit. Then he'd look at her with such intensity that she felt as if she was underwater and the air was being pushed from her lungs. Everything was so extreme when she was with him that she sometimes felt dizzy. And sometimes, when she'd feel her head spinning as he held her hand, she wondered if she did faint how it would feel to collapse in his arms.

Just when she would start to feel blissfully out of control Beau would suddenly pull away and start talking about some obscure book of philosophy he'd read in school and the moment would be lost. It was so confusing.

"I'm going to head upstairs," Scarlett announced, pushing her chair away from the table.

"Are you feeling alright Mother?"

"I'm fine. Just a little tired." She leaned down and whispered something in Rhett's ear that made him smile for the first time that night.

"I'll be up in a few minutes, my dear, I just wanted to have a little talk with Ella."

"Couldn't it wait until the morning?" She reached down to brush an invisible crumb from Rhett's jacket, giving his bicep a small squeeze.

His eyes darkened as he shook his head at her transparency. The last time she'd been this overtly charming she'd been wearing a dress made of drapery.

"Do the taxes on Tara need to be paid?" he asked pointedly. Scarlett's jaw dropped and a retort was halfway out of her mouth when she remembered her plan.

"Just hurry upstairs," she managed to mumble before leaving the room.

Ella's head was cocked as she tried to understand what they were talking about. It was so unusual to see them fight these days, and she couldn't help but worry that this was all her fault. Her peach complex grew wan, and her eyes looked down at the napkin that she twisted between her hands.

"Sweetheart," Rhett said softly, his heart aching for the torment on her face, "Don't worry about your mother and me. Have you ever heard the expression, 'The quarrel of lovers is the renewal of love?'"

"No."

"Well, don't you and Beau ever get into little arguments?"

"No."

"Of course not," he muttered. How on earth had Ella managed to grow up in this home without any type of passion for life? Frank Kennedy's blood couldn't have been so strong to blot out the O'Hara influence. He decided to test to see just how deep her still waters ran.

"I suppose you've heard about Beau Wilkes' visit with me today."

"Yes sir."

"I have to admit I was a little surprised when he made his modest proposal. After all, you've been so adamant that you two were just friends."

Ella sunk in her chair feeling like she was 4 years old and had just been caught by Mammy trying to sneak into the kitchen for a snack. She felt terrible for lying, but it seemed like the only solution at the time. The way to remain Rhett's little girl while still being with Beau. Even as the guilt gnawed at her, the face she presented to the world was as placid as a portrait.

"The only thing I can assume," Rhett continued, "Is that young Mister Wilkes' feelings for you are not reciprocated. What you saw as friendship his misinterpreted, right? I mean, either that or you've been lying to me."

With that the façade cracked, and Ella's eyes grew wide with the pupils contracting to small black points. She looked like a trapped animal, grasping desperately to try and find a way out. Although fear was not normally an attractive emotion, on Ella is looked radiant. It was so good to just see some type of spirit in her. The key to understanding Scarlett had always been to come at her through her anger. Maybe fear was the path to opening Ella up. With the new information he realized exactly what he needed to do.

"I should get up to bed," Rhett said, standing from the table swiftly. As the door closed behind him Ella let out a deep breath and wiped at the stray tears in the corner of her eyes. Her heart was beating so loudly that she could hardly hear herself think, and yet in the middle of the fear was a rush of elation. It was a feeling that could only come with being so close to disaster only to come away unscathed.


	6. Bedroom Negotiations

The gown was lace, a delicate ivory white lace that looked almost virginal when it was on the hanger. When Rhett had bought it for her she'd been surprised since it wasn't as short or tight as his usual gifts. The moment she tried it on though she'd realized that it was translucent, almost see through. Rhett had never seen it on, because she'd been so embarrassed at her own reflection that she banished it to the chest that kept all of these risqué gifts from her husband, an exile where they would only be rescued from on special occasions like his birthday or when Scarlett wanted to try and charm him into something. It was the later that lead to the rescue of the lace creation.

Why seeing Scarlett in these outfits so excited him was a mystery to her. The main reason she stopped even trying to wear them was because with their complicated ties and buckles it took forever to get them on, and then Rhett would take one look at her and peel them off in a moment. It just seemed like a waste of time.

She'd come straight upstairs and changed into the fragile lingerie and then took to brushing out her hair until it shined. At first she thought about staying at the vanity so that he would find her sitting there when he walked in. Then she decided it would be better if she was on the bed, although she couldn't decide if she should be pretending to sleep so that he could wake her, or if she should be draped across the mattress waiting for him.

During her attempts at posing she'd knocked one of the overstuffed velvet pillows off the bed, and she had to reach behind the headboard to retrieve it. Of course, this was the moment Rhett walked into the room, greeted to the sight of her backside in the air as she tried to reach the fallen pillow.

He cleared his throat and she jumped, hitting her head against the wall. Her face was red with embarrassment as she tried to explain. "I couldn't reach the pillow and…"

His long arms easily rescued the wayward cushion and after throwing it on the bed he offered his hand to Scarlett. "I don't remember ever seeing you in that particular gown. Stand up so I can get a better look at you."

"I'd have thought you already got quite an eyeful when you walked in."

"I did. But maybe I enjoyed the view."

He turned her around slowly, savoring the sight of Scarlett's magnolia white skin against the slight off white of the gown. When she was facing him again he couldn't keep his eyes off her pert pink nipples as they pressed against the lace, and then lower to the dark hair that concealed her womanhood.

"This is a lovely gown, Mrs. Butler. Wherever did you get it?"

"It was a gift from my husband, who I'm afraid must be getting senile in his advanced age."

He swatted her bottom lightly before bringing her in a tight embrace. He actually remembered buying this particular gift quite well. It had been almost five years ago when he was forced to travel to Paris for a piece of business. At the time he had asked Scarlett to come with him.

_"During the war I asked you to run away with me," he'd said to her as she snuggled against him in their bed, "The offer still stands. Come with me to France."_

_"Can't," was her drowsy reply. "I need to go to Tara and supervise the harvest. And Wade's going away to school and I need to help him settle in. And the store…"_

_"We'll find someone else to take care of those things."_

_"Nobody else. It has to be me. They need me."_

_Her breathing became deep signaling she'd succumbed to sleep. Even though he knew she couldn't hear him he had to say it anyway. "I need you, sweetheart. I need you."_

_It was the longest that he and Scarlett had been apart since their reunion, and time seemed to pass unbearable slowly. During the war he'd often come to the French capital to forget about the green eyed beauty back in Atlanta, drowning himself in the rich food, decadent women, and a different green monster called absinth until he didn't remember her anymore. But he was a different man then, one who hadn't yet accepted that she was his fate._

_This time he was all business, trying to conclude his dealings as quickly as possible to get back home. He sent her daily telegrams and insisted she do the same, although she'd complained about the expense as wasteful before he'd left. Scarlett had never been good with words and her missives tended to read more like a calendar of events. But she ended each one saying "Miss and Love You" and so he anxiously waited for them._

_"I never figured you for a romantic," Claude Duvall, an old friend who had helped him during the war, told him over dinner one night. "Yet you are not only married, but enamored with your wife. It really is quite the scandal."_

_"I doubt that," Rhett chuckled assuming that his friend was employing a French flair for the overdramatic._

_"I'm quite serious. You've practically bought out every dress shop and jewelry store in the city. That would be news enough, but to discover that this extravagance is for a single woman, and a wife on top of that. It is just so very… American of you. You Americans all hold on to the idea of true love, this silly romantic notion of one person being able to complete you. On the other hand, the Europeans have a much more realistic idea of the endeavor. A man needs three women in his life; a wife to care for his home, a whore to care for his body, and a mistress to care for his heart."_

_Rhett shrugged. It wasn't so long ago that he would have given that same speech almost verbatim. History had taught him that it was impossible to explain the mystery of love to one who had never experienced it, so he retreated to his typical jokes._

_"In my experience," he said coolly, "women cause nothing but trouble. Having seen the amount of drama that one woman can cause, why on earth would I want to triple the experience?"_

_He'd arrived late in Atlanta and it was well after midnight before he was home. He'd sent the many trunks of gifts ahead of him where they were waiting at the bank for his return. Sending anything to the house would have been foolish. Scarlett would have immediately opened it, no matter what warning he gave her not to, and then he'd miss out on seeing the look of surprise and gratitude that filled her face when he would give her a present. He only had one special surprise for her in his carryall, a lovely handmade lace gown that he'd bought at the same store where he'd purchased her a green silk bonnet during the war. There was something about the piece that reminded him so much of his wife; the mix of elegance and seduction that was pure femininity with an edge of daring._

_"You're still awake?" he asked when he entered their bedroom. She was usually such a sound sleeper that he'd assumed that he wouldn't get to have a proper reunion with her until the morning._

_"Is that how you greet me after weeks apart?"_

_He sat down his case and crawled on the bed, quickly making his way until he was lying above the covers next to her. The kiss they shared lasted until they were both breathless, as they tried to share physically how much they had missed each other during their time apart._

_"If this is how I'm welcomed back home I'll need to leave more often," he whispered in her ear as she placed small kisses along his throat._

_"Don't you dare! I've haven't had a good nights sleep since you left. I'm sure I look a fright."_

_On closer inspection she did have dark circles underneath her eyes, and she looked paler and thinner than normal. The urge to protect her filled him, and he went to scoop her into his arms and cradle her. But he was shocked when he pulled back the covers and saw her wearing a silky pink negligee._

_"Did you know I was coming home tonight?" he asked, eyes narrowed. He wasn't due back for another few days. And although his mind knew that he could trust her, a suspicious feeling in his gut was bubbling over. It wasn't helped by the fact that Scarlett suddenly couldn't look in his eyes._

_He grabbed her chin roughly and tilted her head until he could see her face, which wasn't looking guilty as he expected, but embarrassed._

_"I missed you," she whispered. "It was terrible. I spent all my time thinking about you and wishing you were here. I started wearing the things you liked to see me in… I imagined you were here with me and then I'd… oh… just drop the whole thing."_

_Her face was as red as her name at this point. Part of him, the part that needed to keep her comfortable and cared for, wanted to abide by her wish. But his mind was already creating the most graphic fantasy of exactly what Scarlett was doing alone in their bed while she thought about him._

_"Show me," he said in a firm voice. He was smiling at her, caressing her cheek gently with his palm, but she could see intense desire underneath his dark eyes._

_"Rhett… please… you're here now. I missed you so much."_

_"I missed you too." He brought her hand to his lips to kiss it, but then started nipping on each elegant finger before taking one in his mouth. The feeling was ticklish, then queer, and eventually she found it to be oddly erotic. Especially the way he stared at her as he licked at her finger._

_He guided the moistened finger from his mouth to the swollen cleft of her desire. His other hand pulled the thin garment up her thighs so he could watch as she slowly, timidly, began to pleasure herself. Her lip was trembling and eyes watched him with a strange fear in them, as if she expected him to start yelling at her at any moment. When would she realize that he loved this hedonistic side of her, the part free from the repressed morals of polite society._

_"That's my girl," he said, reassuring her to continue her exploration. "You have no idea how beautiful you are right now. How many times I've imagined you like this." Spurred on by his words she closed her eyes and let herself go. When she'd tried this while he was away it wasn't the same, she couldn't overcome the voice in her head telling her that this was shameful, or at least ridiculous. But with her husband's silky voice urging her on she began to revel in the silky feel of this forbidden skin, and how good it felt when she caressed the small bud at the top of the opening._

_Rhett shed his clothes quickly driven nearly mad by the sight of her. Her eyes were still closed as he moved her hand away so that he could enter her. His initial thrust was all her body needed and she moaned while her pelvic muscles contracted tightly around him. "I've missed you so much," she managed to say while the wave of pleasure hit._

_"I've missed you too." He moved more slowly now, giving her a chance to recover, but she wanted more. Wrapping her legs around his back she pulled him in deeper and tighter until he felt as if he was a part of her. They stilled, staring deeply in to each others eyes._

_"Promise me that you'll never leave me again," she pleaded. It was a silly request, especially since he had asked her to come along with him. She'd been the one who decided that she was too busy to travel. But in this intimate moment he could deny her nothing, and so he promised._

The next morning he'd presented her the lace gown which had never seen the light of day until this evening.

"Rhett? Am I boring you? I don't think you've heard a word I said."

"How is a man supposed to pay attention to you when you look like that?" He sat on the edge of the bed and tapped his knee. She quickly sat on his lap, resting her head on his shoulder as she had so many times before.

"So," he asked, running his hands down her legs, "You were telling me something?"

"I asked you if you remember New Orleans."

"Yes. It's a lovely city. I took Wade their once." She swatted at his arm playfully seeing that he was trying to tease her. "Oh, you were expecting me to automatically being waxing poetically about our honeymoon?"

While Scarlett looked back at the early days of their marriage as some idealized perfection they were more bittersweet for Rhett. He'd hoped that after their wedding night he would be able to get her out of his system, but it hadn't worked. The next morning he had only wanted her more. That was the terrible thing that he discovered over their time in New Orleans. He'd assumed that once he had Scarlett's body that he'd be more accepting of another man having her heart. In fact the opposite was true. He wanted to have all of her for himself. He was a man possessed trying to win her over through fancy parties and gifts and the worshipful devotion he paid to her body. But at night she would turn away from him and sigh in the way she only did when her thoughts went to Ashley Wilkes. That sound was like a knife in his heart.

To be so close to the woman he loved and yet still be so far away from her heart was a hell he hadn't been prepared for.

"I was just thinking," Scarlett said, playing absently with the buttons on Rhett's white shirt, "that it would be nice to go back there again."

The idea of experiencing that city with a Scarlett that loved him would be perfect. Too perfect. "I thought that we couldn't travel because of all your duties in Atlanta."

"That's true. But Wade is doing a fine job looking after Tara. And if Ella were properly married off then her husband would be responsible for her and the store. Leaving me free to concern myself with other things."

Her lips started moving along Rhett's jawline, nipping the skin as she went. When she got to his ear her tongue caressed it, taking his earlobe into her mouth. "Rhett," she whispered, "Once Ella is taken care of I can finally go with you. You can show me the places you've traveled. We can make love in every country in Europe."

Reluctantly he repositioned her body so that he could watch her eyes. So that was her game, trying to seduce him into giving his consent for Ella and Beau to marry. He should be mad at Scarlett for thinking that he'd sell Ella down the river in exchange for the promise of carnal delights with her. But as it was it worked quite well with his own plans.

"Scarlett, are you telling me that if Ella was taken care of, you would run away with me?"

"In a second," she pressed against his body.

He rolled her onto the bed and kissed her deeply. "Okay. It's settled then. I'll make the arrangements in the morning."

She could keep the triumphant grin off her face at the news she had finally outsmarted Rhett Butler. In fact, Scarlett was so overcome with pride at her little plan that she didn't notice that Rhett had the same expression of accomplishment.


	7. A Changing World

The next morning, after Rhett had coolly announced his plans over the breakfast that father and daughter shared, Ella headed off to the mills. It was this very road that had born witness to the events that eventually led to her father's death. Not that anybody had ever sat down and told Ella that particular story but she knew it just the same. She'd picked it up from the whispered conversations that followed her growing up. From the barbed comments that flew between her Aunt Suellen and her mother. The stories other children would taunt her with.

Or at least she knew parts of it. Over the years facts and gossip became woven together so tightly that you could no longer see the seams that separated them. In some versions her father was a hero who sacrificed himself to protect his family. In others he was an inept fool who, in the confusion of the scene, was shot by one of his own friends. There were even some people who swore that Rhett Butler had been the one who actually pulled the trigger, using the brief time between Frank's death and Rhett's marriage to Scarlett as proof.

Those particular rumors were so completely ridiculous that Ella couldn't help but laugh at them. Not only was did it sound like the plot of some particularly melodramatic novel, but it would have been completely out of character. It wasn't that Rhett Butler wouldn't have been capable of murder, she vividly remembered his grief propelled fury after Bonnie's death, but it wasn't necessary. With his money and influence Rhett could have easily have taken Scarlett without needing to resort to bloodshed. They would have been scandalized by the divorce but after a lifetime of misdeeds this would hardly have mattered. It was only the good honorable people, the ones who placed reputation above the sanctity of life, who would consider murder the reasonable option.

The one common thread in all the stories was that Scarlett was to blame for Frank Kennedy's death. If she hadn't been traipsing along the dangerous road to the mill then that awful night wouldn't have happened. Or so they said. This was one particular tale that the newcomers didn't believe. After all, there was nothing at all perilous about that path.

Over the years Atlanta had grown, spreading out until it began to overtake the area where the shantytown used to be. The Wilkes' Mill was no longer in the middle of nowhere, but in a growing factory district. These assembly lines employed many of the men in town, although most Southerners regarded them with disdain. That type of work wasn't real work, simply menial labor that could have been performed by a trained chimp. Still, it paid well and didn't have the volatility that agriculture did. Slowly but surly the farmlands were going While the number of farms and It was a little after 8 but there as almost nobody on these paths. Come five, when the whistle rang out that it was closing time, you wouldn't be able to walk through the crowds of people all walking home.

Things were changing. The slowly paced life that she'd grown up with, one where people kept track of time by what meal was being served, was being replaced. Things were speeding up. It seemed like everyone was a slave to the clock, to the ritualistic schedules that was necessary in the newly industrialized South. She had told Beau that very thing on one of their afternoon walks.

_"And where exactly did you hear about industrialization? I can't imagine that the issue was brought up at the sewing circle." Beau had been kicking a small pebble along the path but he'd let is skip down the path and instead focused his attention and Ella._

_Suddenly feeling self-conscious looked away. "Are we in for another Indian Summer this year?"_

_"I must have caught you off guard. You are usually much more talented at changing the subject."_

_"Don't make fun of me Beau. I know I'm not educated or smart. I don't know why I ever pretend that I know what I'm talking about."_

_Beau grabbed her shoulders gently. His gaze was to intent, so focused on her that Ella knew that he was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes and prepared for it but instead she felt Beau's hands slide away. When she looked up he was once again kicking the pebble along the path._

_The silence between them was loud, filled with the frenzied comments of Ella's mind. "He doesn't love you. He doesn't care. He thinks you're stupid and silly and plain. He can't even bring himself to kiss you."_

_Ella Butler was regarded as one of the most docile and genteel girls in all of Atlanta. She never had an unkind word to say about anyone. People wondered how it was possible that such a lady was cultivated from the dirt of the Peachtree house. What none of them realized is that Ella was able to be as mercilessly cruel as her mother; she only directed the ire at herself._

_To stop the maddening stream of self-reproach she began to talk. Quickly, almost madly, she began to chatter. "Over dinner one night Mother was talking about how much she loved the fact that the factories were moving into town. The new jobs meant that people had more money to spend at the store. And because she didn't have to pay as much for shipping she had higher profit margins._

_"Daddy made some joke I didn't understand. Something about how nice it was to know that her morals were still for sale. He's the one who talked about industrialization. He said that those factories destroyed the South more effectively than Sherman had. He said that we didn't fight the war over slavery or states rights, but to fight against the onslaught of the industrialized world. We fought to keep our way of life and avoid becoming the cogs in the machinery."_

_Sometime during her speech they had stopped walking again. She could feel Beau's eyes on her again but she didn't even try to meet them._

_"And what do you think?"_

_It was so rare that someone actually asked her what she thought that she didn't know how to respond at first. "I suppose that they are both right. It is the end of the old way of life, but there's no way to stop it. Things are always changing. You either have to go along or give up."_

_"Have you been reading the works of Mr. Darwin?"_

_Ella frowned, once again embarrassed, but Beau shook his head at the display. "I don't understand why you keep looking that way. You're absolutely brilliant."_

_"Don't tease me Beau. You've been to school. Seen the world. I'm sure that the things I've picked up over dinner can't be that intriguing to you."_

_"Don't be so sure. I suspect that the lessons learned at the Butler table would probably rival the best schools in the country." She searched his face for some sign that he was uncharacteristically mocking her, but he remained the picture of earnestness._

_"Ella, you have no idea how smart you are. You've spent your life around extraordinary people and so I suppose to assume that it is all normal. The truth is that not one person in 100 could come to the conclusion you just did. I think that's why I love you so."_

Love. It was strange how much power that one word seemed to have. Since Ella had coaxed it out of him on the porch Beau had used it on numerous occasions, almost disconcertingly so. It wasn't a word that Ella was used to hearing dropped so casually into conversation. She knew her parents both loved her. They had even said it before, but not on a daily basis. Certainly the way the Beau would when talking to her.

He loved her. After all, he had said so. And that's why she knew that he would have to agree with her plan. It was the only chance if they wanted to be together.

.

Beau was surprised to see her. At first that surprise came in a wide smile but then it turned to confusion. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Do you love me?"

Beau was mute at first, unable to find the energy to talk in the face of Ella's beauty. He had thought her to be the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but never had she looked lovelier than she did at this moment. Her hair had been pulled back in a simple braid, but strands near her face had slipped out and fell wildly about her face. The excited look in her green flecked eyes and her rising blush only helped to complete the appearance of reckless abandon.

"Beau," she repeated, "Do you love me?"

"Completely."

"And do you still want to marry me?"

"Of course. More than anything in the world."

Ella's smile at his words was so infectious that Beau soon had an identical one on his own face. Walking from behind his desk he took Ella's hands in his own and placed a kiss on each palm.

Just as he was about to lean in for a real kiss Ella said something that set him on his heels. "And here I was worried that you were going to refuse to elope."

"Elope?" He dropped Ella's hands as if they were on fire. Suddenly aware of how inappropriate this scene would look to anyone who happened to walk in Beau walked across the room and hid behind his desk.

"Beau, you don't understand. It's the only way that we can be together."

"Oh Ella," he sighed. "You are so innocent. Do you really think that we can just run off and get married with no consequences? What would people say? What would they think?"

"I don't care what anyone thinks except you. If you love me, really love me, then that is enough. That's all I need." The next few moments seemed to pass over eternity. She felt like she was floating outside her body, watching the scene as the lovely young girl put her heart in the hands of the one person who can give her happiness.

"Beau," she pleaded as he continued to look anywhere but at her, "It's up to you. Either marry me today or you'll never see me again."


	8. Truth

Scarlett was disappointed to wake up alone the next morning, although she was still flush with the all too rare feeling of victory. She was surprised to find Rhett in the dining room, looking over the paper while he puffed on a cigar. Without looking up he greeted her- always seeming to know when she was in a room without needing to see her. "So, you've decided to join the land of the living."

"Only after it became clear that my husband wasn't going to bring me breakfast in bed." She pursed her lips in an exaggerated pout that he couldn't help but laugh at.

"I would have loved to serve you, Mrs. Butler, but I had a very busy morning. I had to send the telegrams out, go buy the tickets for our trip, let Ella know what was going on…"

"You told Ella? Oh. I wanted to be here when you did that. Was she surprised?"

"Yes, I suppose you could say that."

There was something about the way Rhett had said that- the length of his pause and the glint in his eyes- that immediately caused Scarlett to freeze. He was up to something. She couldn't say what, but she could tell he was up to something.

"Where's Ella?"

"I don't know. She ran off as soon as I told her that we were leaving on Friday." Rhett looked up then, smiling as the pieces fell together in Scarlett's mind. Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms defensively.

"Leaving on Friday? Rhett, what have you done?"

Later on he would feel guilty about the deception. He might even regret handling things this way. But at the moment he couldn't help but smile. A dark tormenting look a child might give right before turning the magnifying glass on an ant hill.

"I only did what I agreed to," he drawled. "Made sure that Wade would be able to look after the stores and that Rosemary wouldn't mind taking charge of Ella in Charleston. It's all arranged."

"Arranged? What about Beau?"

"What about him?" Rhett paused, feigning understanding that he had all along. "My goodness, you didn't think I was agreeing to let Ella marry Beau. I thought I'd made my thoughts clear on that."

"We agreed that Ella and Beau would marry."

Rhett folded the paper up and stood to face his wife head on. "You said that if I could make sure that everything was taken care of that you'd run away with me. Well, it's all taken care of, even if it isn't in the way you'd fantasized. I'm sorry if you didn't understand the terms of our deal, but…"

Instead of the stinging sound of a slap that they had both been expecting on an loud slam echoed through he cavernous house followed by sobbing. No longer concerned with their battle Rhett and Scarlett both ran to the parlor where Ella stood crying. Her eyes were red and face stained with tears that she was trying her hardest to stop. She didn't like crying to begin with, but she especially hated looking weak in front of her parents.

"Ella," Scarlett said tersely, "Stop this right now. I'm going to fix everything. We aren't going to Charleston and you are going to marry Beau Wilkes."

This news only made Ella cry more, almost hysterical as she gasped for breath. Never one for raw emotion, Scarlett only stepped away fearing that she was making things worse. Rhett stepped right in and embraced Ella gently, smoothing her now tangled hair and repeating that everything would be okay. "If you want to stay in Atlanta, we'll stay," he promised as she slowly gained her composure.

Ella shook her head. "No! I want to leave. I wish we were going right now. I can't stand this place for another second." And then she said the thought that had been repeating in her head, taunting her each step she took back home. "Beau doesn't love me. He never really did."

Scarlett was shocked. "Don't worry Ella," she promised, "We can change his mind. We'll make him love you. Just wait and see. A few new dresses and he will be begging to get you back."

Rhett chuckled to himself at Scarlett's reaction. Of course she still believed that love was something you could control if you tried hard enough. He knew better. And whispering in Ella's ear he said the very thing she needed to hear. "If he doesn't love you then he's a fool. And you're much too wonderful to be crying over a fool."


	9. Leaving Home

As Ella approached the sweeping staircase of the Peachtree Street mansion her feet suddenly refused to work. In a flash she remembered when she and Bonnie would dress up in princess dresses and walk down the stairs pretending they were going to some fancy ball from the Fairy books Rhett would read them at night. With her dark hair and red lips Bonnie always took the part of Snow White while Ella always preferred the tale of Cinderella.

What cruel stories to tell to little girls, Ella thought ruefully. If you could only be beautiful enough some hero would come and make all your problems go away. It didn't matter if you were sleeping, or poor, or locked away in some tower. The Price would still come along and give you the happy ending. If only it was like that in real life. It falling in love was the solution to a problem instead of the start of it.

Still, that niggling voice in her head pointed out that the problem wasn't the stories. It was that Ella wasn't a princess. She wasn't beautiful. She wasn't worthy of "Happily Ever After". And she thought back to those games she would play with Bonnie and how they always ended with Rhett coming in and sweeping Bonnie Blue into the air to dance with her while Ella watched.

"Sweetheart," she head Rhett say, and for a moment she thought it was still a memory until he called her name.

"Ella, are you ready to go? If you'd rather stay in Atlanta we could."

"No. I want to go." Truly, she did. Living in the same town as Beau and knowing that he didn't love her enough to risk something as meaningless as reputation, it would have been hell. Every second she was expecting him to knock on the door baring flowers and a ring and begging for her forgiveness. Pleading to run away with him. To be his wife.

Ella paused for a moment, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth. "I also know that Mother seems mad about leaving and I don't want you to fight about this."

He shrugged. "We will always find something to fight about. If it wasn't this it would be some other matter. At the moment I'm only concerned with you."

For a moment she looked as if she was going to say something of great importance, but then she began walking down the stairs. "You know, this is the only place I've ever considered home."

"I suppose that's true. You were so young when we built this house. I suppose you wouldn't remember living at Aunt Pitty's."

"It's funny," she noted while taking a final look around the house. "Wade considers Tara to be his home even though he only lived there a few years. He spent much more time in Atlanta than there, but…" Rhett waited for her to finish her thought, but she was lost in memories. He'd never considered that Ella might actually miss her home, but then he had never really attached much sentimentality to locations. Charleston would have a place in his heart for being the city where he spent the carefree days of his childhood, but it was hard to really call it home. Even now that he had regained some modicum of respectability he still felt like an outsider. Charleston was like a pair of fancy dress shoes that pinched your feet when you'd walk, certainly not a pair of cozy slippers you'd call your home.

But with that definition he wasn't sure he actually had a home. There'd been a time, in his younger days, when he boasted the sea was his home but it was a line with more bravado than truth. Atlanta was probably the city that had marked itself as the place where some of the most pivotal moments of his life occurred, but it wasn't a home. At least not consistently. At times it felt more like a tomb that threatened to swallow him whole.

No, the truth was the only place that had ever felt like home was his place next to Scarlett. Although he inwardly cringed at the maudlin in the sentiment it was undeniable true. It hadn't been the case when they first met or married, but once Scarlett loved him he felt as if he'd finally found his home.

Even though at the moment his home wasn't speaking to him, and claimed that she wouldn't ever do so again. When he'd noted that she had already violated her edict by telling it to him she'd thinned her lips and turned in bed until her back faced him. He wasn't sure if her anger stemmed from outmaneuvering her or from the fact that she held him responsible for ruining Ella's chance at happiness. Either way she would eventually get over it. Especially if today went as he predicted.


	10. Happy Ending

The train leaving Atlanta was late. This in and of itself was not terribly noteworthy; the railway system may have been built by men but it behaved like a woman dressing for a dance. It would be ready to leave when it was ready to leave and that was that. With his wife already seated in the family's private car Rhett strolled to the crowded platform where Ella had been standing since they arrived at the station. He watched her for a moment remembering the first time he had seen her, the newborn baby in Scarlett's arms. He had looked at that child and had hated her. Hated her for not being his daughter and hated her for looking so much like Frank Kennedy.

When he married Scarlett it had been easy to take on the part of father in Wade's life. Although he may have looked like the late Charles Hamilton it meant he also resembled Melanie Wilkes. Besides, Wade was older and already had a personality of his own. But Ella was just this little miniature of Frank constantly taunting him with the memory of how he hadn't been able to help Scarlett after the war. When Bonnie was born it became easy enough to treat little Ella as if she was a playmate of his beloved child, spending time with both of them as they played dolls or held tea parties.

But a funny thing happened. At some point she stopped being Frank's daughter or Bonnie's sister. One day she was just Ella, the silly little girl who could always be counted on to fumble the punchline of a joke. She was the child who would sit at hours at the piano trying to learn a new piece of music always refusing any help by saying, "I can do it" until she eventually did. She was kind and funny, sweet and silly. At the age when most children were entering their awkward phase she was emerging from hers. The baby fat melted away unearthing cheekbones as high and haughty as her grandmothers.

Ad now that delicate face was looking desperately around the crowd, searching for something. As her eyes scanned the crowd hungrily they paused and perked up. A sly smile crossed her face as Beau Wilkes pushed through the crowd to her side.

"Ella," he said, panting. "I couldn't let you leave. I couldn't live without you." He dropped to one knee, unconcerned with the passers by ho had stopped to watch the scene. "Ella. I love you, and I don't care what anyone says. I'll fight anyone who keeps us apart. I just need to know that you'll marry me."

Rhett smiled, content at last to know that Ella had really found someone worthy of her. Someone who would fight for her. And everyone lived happily ever after.

At least that had been the plan.

Except instead of perking up at seeing Beau rushing in Ella was smiling at Rhett. Wilkes was nowhere to be found. But if Ella was distraught by that fact she hid it well giving her adopted father a kind smile. "Have you come to make sure I don't get left behind?" she teased.

"Oh, I suspect we have at least another half an hour until the train is ready to go." Rhett spoke with authority. He should know. He was the one who had bribed the engineer in the first place to make sure that young Mr. Wilkes had ample time to make his declaration. A declaration that seemed more and more unlikely by the moment.

Rhett strolled against the throngs of people and stood next to Ella. "Do you think it's wise to leave mother alone with that bag full of catalogues she brought along?" she asked.

"Is that your polite way of requesting that I leave you alone?" There was no challenge or malice in the question. He was genuinely curious to what she wanted.

The problem was she wasn't sure anymore. A few days ago she knew exactly what she wanted. To be Mrs. Beau Wilkes. To live in fine home that was filled with beautiful pictures and fine pieces of furniture. It wouldn't be as ostentatious as the home she grew up in, but it would have a refined elegance. As Mrs. Wilkes she would take on the mantle of her dear Aunt Melly, helping the poor and the sick. She would do so much good that people would stop insulting Rhett and Scarlett, instead accepting that anyone who could raise such a fine young lady must be good after all.

But now she wasn't quite certain that she wanted that at all. Oh, it was a fine dream, but the truth was that she didn't need all of that to be happy. She just wanted someone to love her.

"You can stay," she finally said. "Although I'm afraid I'll be poor company."

Rhett nodded and pulled out a cigar, taking the time to light it while watching the crowd in much the same way Ella had been earlier.

"He's not coming," she said, catching him off guard.

"Who?"

"Beau. You can stop looking around for him. He isn't going to show up. Beau is nothing if not punctual, and if he was going to come he would've been here by now."

There was resignation in her voice, which was what really hurt the most. Oh, he would have loved to see Ella raging against Beau in a repeat of the incident that marked his first meeting with Scarlett. Even sadness or bitterness would have been better than this passive acquiescence.

It was rare that Rhett Butler was at a loss for words but he was now. He knew how to council Wade with his logical mind. He understood the depth and passion of Scarlett's emotions. But Ella was such an enigma. She reminded him of the Mona Lisa, a lovely painting with a smile that you knew was hiding something more underneath.

"Ella," he started but she refused to let him talk.

"I know. He's an idiot. I'll find someone better. He didn't deserve me." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly, trying to remain controlled. For a moment she looked like a little girl again, with wide eyes and an innocent expression as she looked up at him.

"I just really thought he was going to come," she said.

"I know," Rhett said bitterly, "I did too."


	11. Her mother's daughter

That first night in Charleston had been a restless one for Rhett. Scarlett was still being cold and standoffish, although he was sure that once he gave the matter his full attention he could change that. She had always reminded him of a cat with her carelessness and restless hunting. Like a cat all it took was a little attention, some gentle stroking and the right touch to make her purr. It would take some time and attention but he would enjoy getting back into her good graces. After all, half the fun of teasing her came from having to woo her back.

No, Scarlett wasn't the cause of this restlessness. It was the problem of Ella. The truth was that he hadn't really considered leaving her in Charleston. It had been a bluff that he hadn't expected to be called. He had been so sure that Beau Wilkes was going to come for her and now he was stuck trying to figure out how to make the best of the situation.

Ella couldn't stay in Charleston. That had become obvious when they arrived. There had been one of those awful women's meeting going on in the sitting room and the women had all stared at Ella, with her fair complexion and tabby colored hair, when she'd been introduced as Rhett's daughter. Under the weight of their silent accusations the girl had quickly excused herself with a headache and went upstairs. Rosemary had been quick to explain the details of Ella's adoption to quash any rumors that were being hatched.

The fact was that Charleston loved the story of Rhett Butler, the prodigal son who finally made good. The only thing they like more was the idea that under his current refinement lay some scandal that could have justified their earlier attitude towards him. Ella would never be given a moment's peace in this city. They would constantly be judging her in a way that was even worse than the scrutiny she'd become accustomed to in Atlanta. At least in that city she was looked at as one of their own and protected somewhat because of it. But in Charleston she would be left to the wolves.

As he often did when facing a problem without an easy solution he sought out the advice that could only be found at the bottom of a bottle. The moment he got out of bed the still sleeping Scarlett rolled over, either reaching for his departing form or, more likely, annexing the newly abandoned space for herself. With one final look he started downstairs lit only by moonlight. Not that he needed more than that. The Butler home had been unchanged since Rhett's mother died four years earlier. Rosemary had never been interested in decorating or design and so she kept everything the same as her mother had.

Rosemary had never married but nobody had seemed especially surprised by that fact. She had never placed much interested in men or courting. Among the older women of Charleston Society the fault for this fell squarely on Rhett Butler. It wasn't that Rhett's scandalous life had doomed Rosemary. If anything a good many men would have loved to wed Rosemary if only to have a connection to her notorious brother's fortune and business advice.

Rhett;s real role in making Rosemary a spinster came from the fact that he was willing to provide the funds to keep her in the comfortable lifestyle she now had. One of the reasons that women capitulated into marriage with men, other than silly notions of romance, was because they needed someone to provide for them. At the end of the day most marriages, especially the marriages of polite society, came out of the desperation to not end up penniless and on the street. It was just another example of Charleston's blatant hypocrisy. The only difference between prostitution and marriage was that whores at least got to keep their money.

Ella would never have to marry, but he was sure that she wouldn't be happy with the life of women's meeting and church functions that fulfilled Rosemary. She wouldn't have found pleasure in work and a career the way that Wade had. He had once told Scarlett that she was born to be married and the same was true for Ella. The problem was that a happy marriage was something that he couldn't buy for her.

As he turned to corner to the sitting room he was surprised to find that it was already bathed in lamplight. Ella sat in a high backed rocking chair staring vacantly out of the window.

"I see you couldn't sleep either," he said coolly as he walked to the side table and pulled a claret of red wine from beneath it. He half filled two glasses before presenting one to Ella.

"I shouldn't," she said.

"Why not? If you'd come down for dinner you would have had a glass. Besides, after the day you've had you deserve a drink. And something a good bit stronger than this but..."

Ella took the glass but didn't drink, instead gnawing on her lip in an expression she had used since childhood when there was something she wanted to ask but was afraid to.

"Swetheart, just ask whatever it is that is bothering you before you end up hurting yourself."

"In Atlanta, you said that you were surprised that Beau didn't come. But that didn't make any sense. It's almost like you wanted him to show up." "That's because I did."

"You're the one who said that we couldn't marry. You're the one who kept us apart." She was standing now, screaming so loud that it could wake the house. But Rhett made no move to stop her. Not even when she picked up her glass and threw it against the wall, surly staining the wallpaper and the carpet.

The material damage didn't sate her and so she started yelling again.

"How could you do this? You say you love me like a father and then you go and destroy my one chance at happiness. Why? Because he isn't rich enough or successful enough or because he's a Wilkes?"

With the same detached tone he'd used on her mother countless times Rhett dismissed Ella's ranting. "I was trying to protect you. If Beau Wilkes loved you he wouldn't have been put off my actions. A man in love doesn't let something as trivial as propriety stand in his way. Hell, he doesn't let logic or reason or anything at all keep him from the woman he loves."

"Of course he didn't do that! I'm not Mother. I'm not as funny or charming or beautiful as she is. Maybe if I was then Beau would have come after me, but I'm not."

Rhett started laughing then. It started as a chuckle but became a full guffaw soon enough. "You think that I love Scarlett because she's beautiful and charming?" He was nearly in tears now at how humorous that thought was.

"Ella, sweetheart, I love Scarlett because she is hot-tempered and illogical and, quite possibly, the most infuriating woman ever born. That's the thing with love. You don't love someone because of their good parts. You love them because of the things about them that would drive anyone else away. That's how you know that it is real."

Rhett looked up at Ella with clear admiration in his dark eyes. "Ella, you are a remarkable woman. You're lovely and bright and dozens of under wonderful things. But you're also secretive and able to hide your feelings until they blow like a Volcano, as my sister's wall can attest to."

Ella blushed. "I'm so sorry. I don't even know what came over me."

"You're your Mother's child, never apologize for that. Besides, I'm sure that one day some lucky man will decide that he can't bare the thought of having someone else watch your tantrums. Of course, that means you have to stop hiding the real you under this guise of demure modesty you've perfected. How can anyone fall in love with you when you are constantly pretending to be someone else?"

"I'm afraid that if people knew the real me they'd run away in terror."

Poor Ella, he thought. He and Scarlett hadn't done much of a job raising her, instead allowing Mammy and Melly and anyone else to do the job of molding her. Of course she'd completely bought into the myth of genteel Southern womanhood. She hadn't had a father to help foster her rambunctious nature. He had failed her in that department, although it wasn't too late to change things. In fact, it might be the perfect answer to the problem that had brought him downstairs this evening.


	12. Two Years Later

Two Years Later

Wade Hampton Hamilton looked like his father. Those who had known the late Charles Hamilton, or his dear sister Melanie, were always quick to remark how very much Wade favored that side of his family with a delicate almost feminine bone structure. The young man had even taken up the law, following in his Great Uncle's footsteps. But the truth was that Wade didn't really feel much kinship to the Hamilton's outside of those superficial connections.

Oh, he had swiftly turned down his step-father's request to adopt back when he's gone thought he process with Ella. Not only did Wade feel some duty to carry on the Hamilton name he really never felt as if he was a Butler. The name still raised too many eyebrows in the old guard to ever be something he could use comfortably.

No, if Wade had his choice he would have been an O'Hara. And like his Mother and Grandfather he found the source of his strength from the red clay of Tara. There was nothing he enjoyed more than to clear his head riding through the grounds or supervising during the harvest season.

When Uncle Will died Suellen had been more than happy to sell her share of Tara to Scarlett in order to afford a comfortable home in Savannah, away from the daily grind of farm life. Scarlett had poured money into remodeling the home into something more practical for the Butler family, including larger bedrooms to fit more modern furnishings.

When he wasn't at school Wade found himself spending all his free time at Tara. He found himself torn between continuing his studies in the law and giving it all up for a life on the farm. Rhett had been the one to point out that there was no need to choose. After all, there was a need for an attorney, even out in the county.

It had worked out better than anyone had ever expected. With Wade as council the farmers were able to negotiate better contracts for their goods. He had also been able to stand up to some of the corrupt courts that operated outside of the spotlight og the big city.

Wade still went to Atlanta two or three times a week to conduct business or see a few clients who were leftover from Henry Hamilton's practice. He'd also stop by and do a cursory check on how things were going at the store, even though the business ran itself well with only the fear of Scarlett Butler's wrath to motivate the employees. Even though she'd been gone for two years simply the thought that she might return at any moment kept things on an even keel.

Wade would also go by the bank to pick up any correspondence that had been sent there for his stepfather. He would read and discard most of the letters which were strangers presenting investment opportunities. The few that seemed important would be sent along to wherever they were staying. At the moment it was London, although Scarlett had said that they hoped to come back to Atlanta in time for Christmas since they'd missed it last year.

Just before laving the bank Wade spied his cousin Beau on the street. They shared a brief conversation about the weather and news before things turned uncomfortable, as they always seemed to do these days.

"How is Ella?" Beau asked.

Ella. The cousins had once been as close as brothers but once Ella left things had changed between them. It hadn't been Wade's doing. Even though he knew that Ella had left with a broken heart he was prepared to overlook the entire affair in the name of family unity. It was Beau who kept bringing her up.

"They're in London right now. Uncle Rhett has some very interesting contacts concerning this new…"

"Is she seeing anyone? I mean, I'm sure that she's probably taking the city by storm but have you heard if there is anyone special."

Wade sighed. "Mostly she talks about the theater. She's become quite interested in the stage. She's thinks she wants to be an actress or maybe a writer."

"Surely you mother won't allow Ella to do something so scandalous. I can't even imagine… that life is just sinful. Do you know what they say about actresses? Surly Ella would never…"

"How is Abigail?" Wade interrupted. The one way to end a conversation these days was to mention Beau's wife. And sure enough, at the drop of her name his cousin suddenly realized he was running late.

That had been such a mess. It wasn't three months after Ella was gone when Beau was announcing his engagement to Abigail Burr. She was one of the many Wilkes cousins and so nobody was truly shocked at the union. Nobody except of course Ella, who had been so upset at learning the news that she had refused to leave her room for days, at least if the letter that Wade had received had been true.

Then, one day, he received a telegram from Ella saying that she was feeling better now, and not to worry. After that her letters were full of stories of adventures in exotic locals meeting new people and trying her hand at everything from drawing to musical composition. She never mentioned Beau. She was far too busy with other things to really think about him.

But, oddly, as the wedding approached Beau became more and more focused on knowing every detail of Ella's life. Even after he returned from his honeymoon he still asked after Ella whenever the cousins met.

There was sadness in these conversations, especially when he realized that she seemed to be getting on fine without him. The whole ordeal made Wade more than a little uncomfortable, while also making him glad that he was too busy with work to even consider getting involved in romance. As far as he could see the whole business of love was one that only ended in people hurting. If he was a bachelor for the rest of his life he'd consider himself the luckiest man alive.

Meanwhile : In London

"That's why, if you'll consider allowing me to marry your daughter, I'd consider myself the luckiest man alive."

Mark Travers finished his modest proposal with a cocky grin, the kind that would have made Rhett fold if he'd seen it across the poker table in his younger days. But he was older now and the pot they were sitting over was considerably more important than any other he'd ever had. He wasn't going to let it go to some bluff.

Rhett leaned back in his chair, giving the young man an expression meant to disconcert him. It was one that had scared away countless suitors during their time in Europe. The men here were not as bound to propriety as those back in the states. It meant that Rhett had to be constantly vigilant where Ella was concerned. One of the benefits of being a reformed scoundrel was the ability to spot them at 50 paces. There had been more than a few fortune hunters who would have loved Ella's money. More than a few blackguards who would have enjoyed taking her virtue.

Europe had not been nearly as relaxing a vacation as Rhett had hoped. Between Scarlett's need for attention and the demands of chasing away Ella's potential paramours he felt as if he never had a moments peace. A small part of him considered allowing Travers to marry Ella just to give himself a rest.

"Don't get me wring Mr. Travers," he drawled coolly, "it isn't anything personal, but I just think that Ella could do better than a two-bit play write. She has had offers from many men of quite substantial fortunes. What exactly can you offer her that they can't?"

"Well, there is the fact that I love her. And that she loves me. But I suppose that you can't quite fit that on one of those ledger books you American's seem so impressed by."

Rhett suppressed a chuckle. He liked this one, but it would do no good to let him know that. "Love is fine for you creative types. But I need something more for my daughter. You know, I am a man with substantial connections. I could probably get you the funding for that new show that you are working on. I'll make you a deal, I'll write you the check myself if you promise to never see Ella again."

Travers was stunned silent as Rhett wrote out the check, an amount that he'd never seen on one place his entire life. For a moment he stared at the numbers before tossing it into a nearby fireplace where it burned to ash.

"You can't buy me off Mr. Butler, and you can't threaten me either. Because no matter what I have to do I will make Ella my wife, there is no force in the world that is going to keep me from her."

"In that case, welcome to the family."


End file.
