Hi! So this is my new story. I decided to go ahead and post the prologue as my "preview" for all of my reviewers over at MBFW. I will be finishing MBFW's vignettes and epilogue before updating this story again.

A few things about this story.

1. It is set loosely within the storyline of GWTW. But it's completely AU. Really, really AU. I don't think I have ever seen anything like this, though I could be wrong.

2. Because of this, some people might find that this story will show some characters as OOC. In a few ways, this may be the case but if you are willing to bare with me, I think we can get to a really awesome place with everyone in this story.

3. This story is Rhett-centric and is from Rhett's POV. (Yes...I know. I am terrified.)

4. This story will be a very angsty-fluff story. I imagine that it will be approximately as long as MBFW, but it is hard to say.

5. Lastly, while it is presently rated T, it will eventually be rated M.

Thanks for your support and enjoy this Prologue! Let me know what you think!

Prologue

There was little to be said of respectability. Whether a man wanted it or didn't was never a question of whether he had it. Some men were born and died with it. Some men earned it, through prayer and fasting to the gods of rectitude.

Once respectability is earned, what is to be done to lose it?

Rhett Butler had been given the opportunity to answer that question, eleven years earlier, when after a unforeseen buggy accident, he had drawn his line in the sand. And his status had been determined, when it had so often been in question despite his name and position.

He had married the imbecilic girl he had so obviously, deliberately wronged. For buggy accidents, as everyone knew, should never happen. The Pharisees had gathered their stones and he had surrendered with flourish. It had appeased their wrath at the time. He had repented and his sins against propriety were sanctimoniously forgiven. He had adorned enough sack cloth and ash to satisfy the ravenous masses, all for the sake of his very young sister and loving mother. Had it not been for their delicate lives also being held in the balance between his own, he would have easily let the scales tip, so heavy already with his misdeeds. For, even before this egregious crime against decorum, Rhett's reputation left much to be desired in the eyes of Charlestonian society.

As it was, eleven years had passed, and in spite of Rhett's figurative death and re-birth, he had never been less popular. His tattered reputation was a constant embarrassment to his delicate wife's sensibilities. Especially due to the fact that she was forced to stand under the scrutiny of the most respected of Charleston ladies.

Mrs. Rhett Butler had never had any children. And because there was little question as to the intimate relations of the couple (it was well-known that the two did not share a room, let alone a bed and that the man of the house frequented house of ill-repute, with little discretion, when he was in town), it was impossible for the cackling hens to determine whether this was due to a barren womb or the absence of a marriage bed. Either scenario was unspeakable.

This was the greatest among the many offenses that Charleston society had applied to Rhett's ever decreasing moral ledger. Others included his refusal to continue in the family business therefore cutting himself off financially, and otherwise, from his father. This debacle was only made worse by the rumors of racketeering and, even worse, gambling, that had bought the Butler's eldest son his self-made fortune.

His dear mother and sister saw no wrong in him and his father had never approved of anything he had done, therefore his brother hadn't either. He understood that, in spite of his peace offering, he had never been considered respectable. It didn't bother him and therefore he did little to rectify it.

In one instance, the citizens of Charleston were able to breathe easier, for the sake of the family of course. Rhett was often out of town. Since his unexpected marriage, he had only been in Charleston for weeks at a time, and only in between long intervals away. Mrs. Rhett Butler was discreet about his disappearances and arrivals, much to the disappointment of society. For they all desperately wished to know where he frequently went, but would never pry into a situation as fragile as this.

So, even though Rhett Butler had surrendered once, it had never been enough for those that felt it their responsibility to distinguish the well-bred of society from the ill-bred, for he did not surrender to their ways all together. So his sacrifice had been in vain, and he was shackled, even as he allowed himself as much freedom as he desired.

All of his ambition was tightly bound by the ritualistic lifestyle that surrounded him. He indulged any and all opportunities that triggered his fancy, careless as to how it affected the lady of his house or even his darling mother and sister, for whom he had sold his soul. He was heedless to Charleston's gossip and disapproval (and anyone else's), lived precisely as he wished. And still, he was tethered to the hazy, gilded fools who had raised him before ceremoniously tossing him to the side.

It made him restless. He viewed the world through the cynically, embittered filter of a man twice his age, though his caustic attitude was often tempered with his mocking humor. His caustic attitude made him appear cagey and wild, and it kept most people at arms length, including his wife. Again, Rhett wasn't bothered. He never was.

Until her.