Author's Note: Thanks to ScarlettLovesRhett, BlaqueCat13, and Lara B. Caine for your kind words! You made me feel confident enough to post my more "serious" GWTW story. Read & review, please!

Chapter 1

Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton stood at the Columbia platform gloomily, as though she were disembarking at the gates of Hell rather than the South Carolina capitol. Her green eyes dim, she observed the flurry of activity, people scurrying like frightened rabbits to catch trains to Charleston or Savannah. The gusty wind swept through her dark curls, nearly causing her fashionable bonnet to escape from its precarious spot atop her head. Her cheeks were brightened to a reddish hue, a stark contrast to the magnolia white of her complexion. For the most part, Scarlett had spent the train ride wishing that she were dead. Better dead than here, she groaned internally.

"Mrs. Hamilton, I presume?" a tall, slender grey-uniformed soldier bowed politely as he addressed her. "I'm Captain Preston Hampton. My father is Colonel Wade Hampton, the commander of your husband's regiment and my own."

Scarlett nodded and struggled valiantly against an approaching wave of nausea as the soldier kissed her hand.

"Captain Hamilton will be so comforted by his wife's presence. Our surgeon says that his case of measles is relatively mild, but just the same, several of our boys already died of it."

Died? Scarlett thought with a fresh horror. Suppose Charles actually died? That would leave her a widow, a fate even worse than the position in which she now found herself. She stilled the urge to bat her eyelashes prettily at the soldier; good looking as he was, she would not shame Charlie thus, especially since he was sick!

"How far away from the camp are we, sir?"

"You're not going to the camp, Mrs. Hamilton," Captain Hampton chuckled. "I wouldn't dream to subjecting a lady to our accommodations. Especially one as lovely as yourself."

This time, Scarlett could not resist his charm, and she said throatily, "you are too kind, Captain Hampton!"

Again the nausea reared its ugly head, and Scarlett clenched her slender hands together within the fullness of her wide taffeta skirt.

Sensing her discomfort, Captain Hampton grabbed her arm, steadying her should she faint.

"I'm so embarrassed," she said weakly, upturning her eyes toward the handsome officer's concerned face.

"You've endured a long journey, ma'am, combined with the worry I'm sure you've felt for Captain Hamilton."

Fiddle-dee-dee, Scarlett thought, I wasn't worried at all until you mentioned dying.

"Yes," she nodded vehemently. "When may I see Charlie?"

"I can take you to him immediately," Captain Hampton guided her to the waiting carriage and assisted her as she climbed in. "Captain Butler's plantation," he instructed the surly looking black coachman.

Scarlett's eyes widened and she groaned inwardly. "Excuse me, Captain Hampton…but…I do believe you said Captain Butler?"

"Indeed, Captain Matthew Butler. Are you acquainted already?"

Scarlett breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

"No sir. No, I suppose I haven't met that Mr. Butler."

Captain Hampton nodded with understanding. "The Butler family is one of the finest in all South Carolina. They have roots all down the coast, although I believe the patriarch is firmly implanted in Charleston."

His face brightened momentarily as he remembered an interesting bit of news. He knew that ladies always were keen on society gossip, and was certain that a lady as young and pretty as Mrs. Hamilton could be no exception.

"If you've met any of the Charleston Butlers, I'm sure that you're a familiar of Miss Rosemary. Oh, she's the fairest girl in the entire state. Almost as pretty as you, if I may be so bold, Mrs. Hamilton."

Scarlett flashed him a look of wry amusement; she knew quite well that she looked quite absurd at the moment.

"Anyway, as I was saying, Miss Rosemary is engaged to be married to Lieutenant Luke Bonham of my own division…they're distant kin…but he's a nice fellow. Tad simple, perhaps, but nice. It's a pity that Miss Rosemary's brother has disgraced the family so. Fellow by the name of Rhett Butler. I could tell you stories about him that'd shock you, ma'am."

Scarlett suppressed another urge to vomit. Rhett Butler was the last person she wanted to hear about, especially since the wretched man had listened to her spill her guts to Ashley. She groaned again as her stomach heaved and thought that spilling guts was not the proper analogy due to her current situation. Oh well, Scarlett thought with a fresh relief, at least I won't have to worry about running into that varmint!

The increasing raindrops began to flow more heavily, and Captain Hampton grimaced as he peered out through the glass.

"Our boys won't be happy about this," he observed. "And we aren't even out of camp yet."

Scarlett's thoughts were returned back to the present and she replied, "but surely the war won't last much longer?'

The captain looked at her with a mixed expression of bemusement and pity. "Your men must have told you that it'd be over in a month."

"Well," Scarlett admitted, "that was the general consensus around the County."

"How long has Captain Hamilton been here? Let me think…five, six weeks?"

"Seven weeks." Scarlett said this automatically and with irritation. Charlie had made her a wife the second evening of their marriage; he'd been so miserably awkward about the whole thing that she'd had to pretend that she was sleeping with Ashley just to stomach the inglorious ordeal. He'd left her after a week, and Scarlett had been under the impression that her life would return to a semblance of normalcy. But then the twins had gone, along with Raiford and Cade Calvert, the Fontaines, and Ashley. That had been a mere two months ago.

Her pounding headache became a little more tolerable as she thought of handsome, blonde Ashley, and she entertained herself by imagining that she was visiting him instead of hapless, luckless Charlie. Imagine, she scoffed internally, getting sick before they've even seen battle!

Prior to her departure, Mammy had made a discovery which Scarlett herself had failed to notice. Her monthly courses, once constant as the stars in the Georgia sky, had ceased completely, and her normally ravenous appetite had dwindled considerably. When Mammy had set her down to inform her of the impending situation, Scarlett had howled and screamed about the indignity of it all, then had begged and pleaded with Mammy not to tell her mother. Scarlett then took the initiative to think very clearly about her options, which were few in number and equally unappealing. She could sojourn to Atlanta to have the wretched thing with Melanie standing over her like a clucking chicken or she could stay at Tara and not set foot out of the house until her time was complete.

With the inevitable conclusion of the ruination of her life so close at hand, the letter from Captain Hampton informing them of Charles's illness was nothing short of divine intervention. Scarlett's father had been so very agreeable due to the twin delights of the thrill of war and seeing his pet so happily married that he thought it quite natural and appropriate that she go to Columbia and nurse her husband back to health herself. Her mother, on the other hand, had thought it vastly unsuitable, and begged for Scarlett to reconsider. Measles wasn't all that serious, Ellen had explained, and Charles was a strong young man.

Scarlett had begun to pace restlessly then and her eyes brimmed over with tears, some real and some created by long years of perfecting the art; in the end, Ellen had finally agreed and Mammy had held her tongue. Scarlett was privately certain that the old devil just wanted to keep her away from Ashley, and was happy to see her anywhere but Atlanta, where he would certainly be. Under strict instruction from her mother to see Charlie well and come straight back, Scarlett had been given the greatest gift she could have possibly wished for: time. As the inevitable event drew closer and closer, she would no longer be able to hide it. Already her stays were uncomfortably tight. Even her own body felt as if it were no longer under her control. Indeed, however far away he might be by now, Ashley was the only constant thing left to her.

Even Ashley is lost to me now, she mused internally. Never again would he squire her to County fish fries and barbeques, nor would she be able to visit Twelve Oaks and blissfully sit on the settee while he played the pianoforte, listening to him in worshipful adoration. No, she had signed away her rights to Ashley when she became Mrs. Charles Hamilton, and now, the thing that was slowly taking over her body would eat away the rest of her life as well. She sighed loudly. Things were already awful enough; surely Charlie couldn't make them even worse by dying?

"Do many men die of measles, Captain Hampton?"

The captain blushed slightly, feeling rather guilty that he'd been relaying society gossip when this poor fair creature was clearly terribly concerned over her husband.

"Not usually," he said gently. "But its easy to catch. Lots of the boys have it. Captain Hamilton's was getting bad enough for the doctor to move him up to the big house, just a precaution."

"Precaution from what?" Scarlett asked with wide eyes.

"Pneumonia, mostly," Captain Hampton toyed with his cap and again peered out the window. "We're nearly there, ma'am. Mrs. Butler's hospitality is renowned throughout the state; you won't lack for anything."

"That was very kind of her to take Charles in," Scarlett said with long rehearsed politeness.

"I'm not sure that you're aware, Mrs. Hamilton, of how famous a military family you've married into. Colonel Hugh Hamilton, your husband's father, was a hero in the Mexican war, as was his brother, Admiral Will Hamilton. All that to say, ma'am, any member of the Hamilton family is automatically accorded especial respect."

Scarlett nodded, bored with the family history lesson.

"Ah!" Captain Hampton murmured. "That's it, the lovely Rose Hill."

Scarlett endured another painful jolt within her already sour stomach as the carriage stopped suddenly. The carriage door was opened from the outside and Captain Hampton disembarked first, then gallantly offered her his arm.

"At least the weather's cleared up," he said cheerfully. "I won't be greeted to a load of wet, rioting troops when I return to camp."

"Where is the camp?" Scarlett asked, seeing no sign of one.

"Five miles down the road. We've only now began to separate the volunteers into units. Captain Butler has a division, as do I. Captain Hamilton is my direct subordinate; he'll have his own division too once he regains his health and we've fought a battle or two."

"I thought that we were supposed to be finished after one battle!" Scarlett cried, unconsciously clasping a hand over her abdomen.

Captain Hampton attempted to reassure her, but she saw his eyes move to another target.

"Miss Butler," he called pleasantly, motioning for her to join them. "And Mrs. Butler, of course."

The two ladies made Scarlett feel instantly self-conscious and painfully aware that she was no longer the belle of the County.

Mrs. Butler was small and petite, with lovely auburn curls which threatened to escape from her loose chignon. Atop her head she wore a lovely hat embroidered with tiny silk flowers. The younger lady caught Scarlett's attention immediately. Too dark-skinned to be considered a belle, Miss Butler's hair was as dark as Scarlett's own, if not darker, although her eyes were a startling shade of blue. Her eyes sparkled impishly as they appraised Scarlett in her plain black taffeta.

"Mrs. Hamilton, may I present Mrs. Amelia Butler, our fair hostess, and her niece, Miss Rosemary Butler of Charleston."

Rosemary's fine brows puckered prettily as she observed Scarlett with feigned confusion. "Your maiden name wouldn't happen to be O'Hara, would it, Mrs. Hamilton?"

Scarlett chafed uneasily, thinking that Rhett Butler had probably spread what he had witnessed between her and Ashley around the entire state.

"It would," she answered in a small voice.

"I thought so," Rosemary smiled broadly. "Auntie, may I take Mrs. Hamilton to see her husband?"

Mrs. Butler nodded absently in consent and began to address Captain Hampton, who bowed as the two younger ladies departed.

Rosemary took Scarlett's arm and guided her into the expansive house. It put Tara to shame, Scarlett had to admit. A large porcelain clock stood at the top of the grand staircase, surrounded by portraits of dark-haired, rakish looking men in uniform and women as swarthy faced as Miss Butler herself.

"My grandmamma," she pointed out the central portrait in the artfully adorned room, which hung above the marble mantle.

Scarlett appraised the portrait, thinking that the subject looked more akin to a courtesan than a lady of quality.

"I'm so glad to finally meet you, Mrs. Hamilton. My brother told me all about you! When your husband took sick a few weeks ago, I had hoped you might come; and I'm very glad you did…" Rosemary's voice trailed off as Scarlett burst into tears.

Her blue eyes widened. "Oh, how horrible I am, bothering you with chitchat when you want to see your husband. Oh please don't cry, Mrs. Hamilton, please!"

Scarlett furiously wiped her tears, not really knowing why they had come, but blaming it on the thing, the source of the rest of her miseries. Her shame of what Rosemary Butler had no doubt heard about her was too much to bear at the moment, along with everything else, and she swayed on her feet and blinked against a wave of dizziness.

"Mrs. Hamilton! Are you sure you're alright? Mrs. Hamilton!"

A wave of nausea sweeping over her, Scarlett could almost make out a tall, black silhouette of a man swooping over her, catching her as she fell.

She blinked again as the noxious odor of the smelling salts filled her sensitive nostrils. Coughing loudly, she sat up gingerly on the settee and stared up at Rosemary's concerned face.

"Poor thing!" she cooed. "I'm just glad Rhett was here to catch you!" Scarlett rubbed her eyes again, blinking as she made out a hazy figure perched insolently at the other end of the settee with a look of amusement upon his face. Her gaze flashed between the brother and sister, and she noted the strong familial resemblance. It was clear that Rosemary was several, perhaps even ten, years his junior. He wore no jacket and his white shirt was unbuttoned to the chest, exposing his shockingly bronzed skin. He looked rakish and ready to pounce, but she could observe his muscular frame and taut body, and, to her arch embarrassment, she could appreciate it.

"Good afternoon, Miss O'Hara. Or excuse me, Mrs. Hamilton! My apologies." His words were softened by the subtle drawl so characteristic of an aristocratic, Coastal upbringing, something she had not noted in their first meeting. By contrast, Rosemary's uniquely raspy voice held a stiltedly refined accent that was slightly less pleasing than her brother's.

"Mr. Butler, we meet again," Scarlett attempted to sit up gracefully. "I do declare that I'm surprised to see you here. I was under the impression that-"

"That I wasn't received in polite society?" Rhett smiled broadly, revealing a set of even white teeth. "Well, you assumed correctly, Mrs. Hamilton. However, my esteemed Aunt and Uncle on whose settee you are now resting felt that my disinheritance was a rather trifling matter, so I am welcomed here. Nowhere else, I assure you. I wouldn't want my reputation as a blackguard to be undone in any way."

"You're such a fool, Rhett!" Rosemary giggled playfully. "Mrs. Hamilton isn't interested in you in the slightest and you're flirting with her like a schoolboy."

"Hmm. She's married to a schoolboy. Perhaps I'm doing a fair imitation of her husband."

"Rhett!" Rosemary smacked his arm. "How can you make jokes when her husband is ill?"

Scarlett couldn't decide if she liked Rosemary taking up for her or not, but either way, she was going to be sick again soon and the last thing in the world she wanted was to be sick in front of Rhett Butler.

"If I may," she said more weakly than she would have liked, "I would appreciate a wash. Before I see Charlie."

"Of course!" Rosemary's face brimmed with understanding. "Your husband is terribly sweet, he's been so worried about being a bother. Let me show you upstairs, dear Mrs. Hamilton." She flashed her eyes angrily at Rhett. "I apologize on behalf of my brother for his rotten behavior. It's no wonder he isn't received."

"Mrs. Hamilton will forgive me," Rhett said, his voice sugar sweet. "We have rather a lot in common, all things considered."

"You're vile!" Rosemary scolded.

"Allow me to carry you to your chambers, Madam," Rhett scooped up Scarlett despite her protests. "Never fear, sister, I'll deposit her in bed and then leave immediately."

Scarlett struggled momentarily and then settled within his strong arms as he walked up the stairs. Again, her stomach lurched and she put a hand to her mouth and groaned in agony.

"Did you eat something distasteful?" Rhett said conversationally.

"No." Scarlett spat out, wiping her mouth violently.

"No? Something even more distasteful, perhaps?"

"You're vile," she muttered weakly.

"I'm just teasing you. And I've been around enough women to recognize the symptoms."

"Of course you have," she retorted.

He responded with a fresh burst of laughter. "Does my reputation precede me as far as Clayton County, then? I daresay, Mrs. Hamilton, I had no idea that my misdeeds had earned me such notoriety. But really, I am curious…you couldn't have had more than a week or two after our last meeting in which to get yourself both married and in the family way. I didn't think that sad-eyed boy had it in him…unless you finally prevailed over poor old Ashley…"

She glowered at him as she caught his meaning.

"I'll thank you to put me down now!" she snapped as they reached the top of the steps. "Now which room is mine?"

"Next to mine," he said flirtatiously.

"You are horrible!" she cried. "And I don't know what sort of lies you've spread about me but-"

"Lies? Ha! Believe me, darling, the charming scene I witnessed in the Wilkes's library was not worth repeating. The ladies in my acquaintance would hope for more scandalous gossip…now if I told them that you offered yourself to me after Mister Wilkes's poetic rejection, then we might have something-"

"How dare you?" she shrilled, causing him to wince.

"Easy, Mrs. Hamilton, you'll upset yourself and you'll miscarry and it'll be all blamed on me. My reputation is already shattered enough as it is!"

"Good," she scoffed, blinking back tears. "I wish it would go away."

His dark eyes fixed upon her and his mouth softened. "You're just a little girl underneath it all, aren't you, Mrs. Hamilton? Well, I suppose I owe you an apology. Truce?"

She looked at him with hatred spelled plainly on her face. "And you promise you won't tell?"

"On my honor," he winked broadly and extended his large palm, which she took wearily. "Now, go wash up and try to rest. Mr. Hamilton's in quite a bit of pain and I'm sure it will be of no difference if you visit him now or later this evening."

Rhett bowed deeply, and Scarlett wordlessly entered the small bedroom that had been prepared for her. All she wanted to do was curl up and sleep. As she fell asleep on the featherbed, she attempted to bring Ashley's face to mind; and yet, the picture she formed quickly faded into strong arms holding her tightly against a stalwart chest…