A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I just wanted to say that I thought the age gap between Scarlett and Rhett was a bit too big for my liking. Fanfiction gave me the opportunity to let me put my imaginations into writing, so I took it up and made Rhett the age I would've liked him to be. Just do what I did when I read the book, imagine him the age he is when reading my story. :D Writing Mammy's dialect is harder than I thought. I'm undecided as of right now to continue or switch it to the normal English. However I did edit Chapter 1. Please have patience on Rhett's appearance; I want to write a good buildup of the story before their meeting.

Thanks to K.L. for helping with the French.

Disclaimer: I do not own GWTW.

Scarlett and Wade were off to Savannah along with Prissy within a week. She replied quickly to her Grandfather's letter and mentioned that she'd given up learning French a long time ago, and to speak it would be unmanageable. She asked that he send the money as soon as possible to take care of the taxes on Tara. Told him to expect them within the next week and kindly thanked him for helping her in that predicament.

Before she left, she'd learned from Melanie that Rhett Butler was in jail. Aunt Pittypat's letter held more than just the question on when to expect their arrival. She'd written that he killed a darkie and may be hanged. He was locked up in the firehouse which they turned into a jailhouse.

"Is there any news other than our expected arrival to Atlanta from Aunt Pittypat Melanie?" asked an uninterested Scarlett.

"Yes Scarlett! I almost forgot to tell you, Captain Rhett Butler is in jail. Aunty wrote that he killed a darkie for disrespecting a lady, but the Yankees can't prove it. She said that he could still be hanged just because they would want to make an example of someone. Oh how awful you must feel, I knew he was one of your beaus Scarlett."

This caught Scarlett's full attention.

"Oh how you do run on Melanie," Scarlett had said with a scowl. "I could care less about that varmint. He was never a beau or friend of mine. How did you ever think he was?"

Melanie knew that Scarlett was getting irritated. She was getting snappy as a dog and never wanted to be the one on the receiving end of her fast mouth.

Rhett had made plenty of calls to Aunt Pittypat's, but Scarlett was the only reason why he made more than enough calls to the house on Peachtree Street. It was more than just friendship Rhett wanted from Scarlett. He hoped that being the only one she would confide in will lead her to open her eyes and see they were more alike than she thought. Melanie saw his intentions and was not against it. Only that Scarlett was blind as a bat and couldn't see what was right in front of her.

"Never mind what I said. There's more to the letter. Aunty also mentioned that there was rumors of Rhett having millions of the Confederate gold stashed away somewhere. The Yankees want to get their hands on it and is interrogating him about it."

"Why Melanie," Scarlett said with eyes wide open. "Do you think he really has the Confederate gold?"

"I'm not sure if he does or doesn't have it. I do know that being a blockader he would have needed money put in the bank under his name to buy supplies and weapons for the Confederacy."

Having heard that, Scarlett knew he must have the Confederate gold stashed away somewhere, maybe even in a bank overseas under his very own name. It would be a shame if he were to be hanged and the money to waste away, hidden from its' very own people that were in badly need of it.

She thought Rhett being hanged would recompense him for leaving her at the main road to Rough and Ready. Recalling the night of his abandonment, she remembered his kiss. Being so upset at his statement she couldn't think of nothing else except his desertion to join the army. It was his kiss that brought her mind to blankness, his kiss that provoked emotions unknown to her to surface, but quickly drowned to darkness by Wade's calling. Realization hitting her harder the second time around she shoved him away and gave him the hardest slap she could across his mouth. "How could he declare his love for me then just up and desert me? That hateful lying skunk," she muttered.

Walking away with irritation surging through her, Scarlett retorted, "Knowing the man that he is, he probably does have the gold. I hope the Yankees do hang him. The world would gladly be rid of him."

Scarlett was relieved to not have turned to him for the money. If she did, it would only have been a waste of time due to his circumstances. She had told Melanie the world would gladly be rid of him, but knew it was only partially true. There was this feeling she couldn't quite grasp. She didn't love him, yet she felt that without him her world would be plain and dull. She did enjoy his company when he was well behaved; enjoyed speaking her mind freely to his listening ears, and most of all enjoyed his truthful responses. "I love Ashley. I must only think of Ashley. Rhett means nothing to me."

Getting off the train, she held Wade's hand and led him off to the side in search of Alfred, Grandfather Robillard's valet. Alfred has been with Grandfather as long as she could remember. He was the only darkie that was educated and spoke fluent French.

"Madame Hamilton?"

"Yes, you must be Alfred?"

"Oui. Please follow me to the carriage, I'll help you in then take care of your trunks. It shouldn't be a long drive home."

To Scarlett, Tara would forever be her true home, but for the time being she knew her Grandfather's beautiful large Greek inspired mansion would be home. He had built it for Grandmother Solange Robillard as a wedding gift a long time ago. Closing her eyes she recollected the colossal home surrounded by columns and veranda, the foyer illuminated by candles held in a stunning crystal chandelier, lighting also the never forgotten light pink wallpaper patterned by peonies. The fine double stair cases along opposite walls leading into one to ascend to the second floor. All the rooms: the parlor, library, the music room, the dining hall and bedrooms, she remembered being so magnificent and grand. She hoped that he kept things exactly the way it was when she had been there. Not knowing her Grandmother, she felt that being in the home she furnished and decorated was as close as she could get in being in her presence.

Upon close arrival to the house, Scarlett was getting nervous. She hadn't seen her Grandfather since the time she went visiting in need of a change of scene after Charles's death, only recently corresponded with him asking for help a few weeks ago. Now pulling up to the entrance she was feeling uncertain. She questioned herself if she could live with her Grandfather, who was as good as a stranger. Would they be able to get along and would she be able to tolerate the language he was bound to make her try and learn.

"Bienvenue Scarlett. J'espère que votre voyage n'as pas été trop mauvais. Ce doit être votre fils Wade. C'est une honte qu'il ne ressemble rien en vous," (Welcome Scarlett. I hope your trip was not all too bad. This must be your son Wade. It's a shame that he looks nothing like you.) he said as she and Wade entered the foyer.

"Grandfather, you know I don't speak a drop of French. Could you be kind and spare me of it, please?"

Indeed she did not speak French, only a few words and phrases she had remembered from using so much as a girl stayed in her memory.

Scarlett looked about and breathed a sigh of relief. Not much had changed, and if ever it was, it was only to renew the faded. Yes, the wallpapers lining the foyer were not of the exact, but still they were of light pink and patterned with beautiful peonies. The same oval table that held variations of flowers in a glass vase sat in its' same place, directly under the crystal chandelier. To the right pass the doors would be the music room, filled with furniture and of course a piano. To the left was the dining room, holding within a long table seating up to 16 people.

Across the foyer she held her gaze at a painting of her Grandmother, hung above a bigger then necessary fireplace in the parlor. Not looking away, she took in the features of her own fixed on her Grandmother. The ivory soft skin captured in the painting was of her own. The illuminating fierce piecing green eyes were an identical. Thick plush raven colored hair piled high adorned with a jeweled comb was also of hers. She obviously had inherited her looks from her Grandmother.

"Évidemment, je vais devoir parler anglais à cause de vous, mais vous allez apprendre, au moins essayer d'apprendre ma langue préférée." (Obviously I will have to speak English for your sake, but you will learn, at least try to learn my preferred language.)

Glowering, Scarlett snapped, "What!"

"Rien," (Nothing) he sternly said. "Stella here will direct you to your room and help you with whatever you need. Dinner will be held in a few hours, so please rest and come to dinner on time. You do remember how I hate lateness."

"Oui grand-père, je me souviens," (Yes Grandfather, I remember) she replied mockingly.

Dinner had passed by roughly but Scarlett was grateful at how it ended. She hoped that future dinners would go smoothly but knew better of it. Grandfather asked questions, and she answered them, answered them truthfully. Lying to him was out of the question for he could always tell if she were to lie by just staring at her eyes. Upon him asking her of Wade's age, she had remembered they shared a birthday month. To be exact, a birthday week only separated by three days and was less than 4 weeks away.

"Wade is four, turning five within less than 4 weeks. As I recall you and Wade share the same week, precisely only three days apart."

"Your aunts then would not only be coming to celebrate mine but Wade's birthday too. Eulalie and Pauline are to be expected next week and will indeed stay a month to tutor you in French. Until I find someone to my liking they will have to do. I will also want Wade introduced to it also. He is young and will catch on to it faster than you, it's better to kill two birds with one stone. Seulement que un oiseau sera très difficile à tuer." (Only that one bird will be quite hard to kill.)

Anger peeking at the surface, Scarlett replied, "What was the last part you said Grandfather? I didn't quite catch it! I guess having them teach me French is better on your pockets. It will be free of charge to you so they will have to do. And thank you, this will be Wade's first birthday celebration."

Within the next week her aunts arrived and planning of the birthday celebrations began. However, her French lessons were not forgotten, and it too was planned. It was Aunt Eulalie that she was more willing to take lessons from. Aunt Pauline was someone who, if not for being her aunt, Scarlett would gladly have given a slapping to the face. Aunt Pauline had wanted four hours, five days a week for Scarlett to do her lessons. She thought it unreasonable and quarreled viciously with her. On the verge of explosion, Grandfather settled it to two hours, four days a week. Scarlett swiftly agreed to this. He also firmly stated that his birthday dinner would quietly be feasted by close acquaintances only, and that those close acquaintances' grandchildren would have to be invited to Wade's party. He didn't like noise and mess so he sternly told them the celebrations would be done in one day, specifically on Wade's birthday.

After the last guest had left, Scarlett ascended the stairs with a bounce. She was very pleased at how the day had turned out. That early February morning was bitterly cold and gloomy, but she managed to make it a great morning for her grandfather and son. It was to be there day and Scarlett would make sure of it. She decided to surprise Wade and had his and her breakfast sent to his room; Grandfather too had breakfast in bed. Both aunts were against it and told her she would get a good scolding from grandfather, but she didn't care. To her surprise, he willingly accepted it, even seemed gladly to welcome it.

Lunch had come and passed and there were children gathered in the parlor all wild up from a bit of sweet they had from cake earlier. Surrounding her son, they urged him to open up gifts and kindly helped him.

"Mother, look what I got, look what I got!" he shouted happily as he held up a wooden yo-yo.

"I see it Wade. Did you thank him for the gift?"

"Thank you Maphew!"

"It's Matthew, Wade."

"Matthew," he said with a grin.

Watching her son from a distance she realized how fast he had grown. She was so caught up in taking care of everyone else she had forgotten her own baby. Brown hair that matched his light brown eyes stared across to her. Walking towards her she knew he was in a quest to ask what she had gotten him.

Timidly standing next to Scarlett, Wade spoke in a shy quiet tone, "Mother, if this morning you having breakfast with me in my room was my gift, I wish every year to have that as my gift."

Smiling she replied, "No Wade, I got you something else. It was fun wasn't it, eating breakfast in bed? If you like, I will eat breakfast with you in your room on your birthday every year until you tell me to stop. Now Wade, this here is my gift to you. It's a book full of stories and fairytales. Tonight I'll come by and read to you alright?"

"Yes mother, and thank you."

"Now run along and play with the other children."

She remembered once she felt jealous about her son's affections towards Melanie. Knew she didn't have time for him because she was spending it worrying about the next meal. She recalled promising that when better days were to arrive and there would be less to worry about, she would play with him and read to him. Now that time has come and she was going to try and do it.

Grandfather's birthday dinner was quietly feasted and enjoyed by his acquaintances as he had wanted. Conversation around the table was not of interest at all for Scarlett. Talk of the past war, reconstruction and of grandfather's travels. She couldn't do nothing but be polite as possible. After dinner there was entertainment in the music room. Then to the parlor to relax a bit before the night was over. She noticed during dinner, Grandfather looked a bit pale and seemed a tad unresponsive. She thought nothing much of it, that maybe today had just tired him out and he needed to sleep it off.

"Mis Scarlett, Mis Scarlett?"

"What do you want Prissy? It's too early! Leave!"

"Bud Mis Scarlett, you hav a telegram. It's marked as urgent. It's from Tara."

"Give it here Prissy."

Wearily Scarlett sat up in bed and read the telegram. As shock and terror ran through her she dropped the telegram to the floor. Her world right then and there seemed to have fallen apart. Tears poured over her cheeks, tears of lost, tears of pain. Shock had stolen her speech. Only broken words were spoken. "Home! Pa! Tara! Pa dead! Home! I need to go home!"

Prissy stunned by her outburst picked up the telegram and read, "Scarlett, come home. Your father is dead. Will."