CHAPTER 3

It was still early when he opened his eyes, his vision blurred by a mass of curly hair. Was it a dream? During the last two and a half years, he had lost count of the times he'd woken up with the intense feeling that she was next to him, only to have his hopes crashed to the ground. A deep inhale and that lemon verbena scent he knew so well tickled his nostrils. No, it wasn't a dream. Physical evidence proved otherwise; the weight of her body tangled around him, the soft caressing of her breath on his neck, the smoothness of her skin under his fingers. She was there. And most importantly, she was there by choice. Her choice.

To say that he hadn't see the previous day coming would be an understatement. Nothing about the day was the least expected. It's been a long line of constant surprises, one after another, each one leaving him happier than the one before. A dozen what-ifs pilled in his mind as he tried to untangle the string of events that had led to this very morning. What if he hadn't lost control over his anger and jealousy and had listened to her explanations instead? What if he hadn't left the house after that night? What if he had given her a chance to meet him half way when he returned? What if he hadn't left town without her, but with her? He had been at those crossroads, two options offered to him each and every time; to move towards her or away from her, to fight or to surrender. And half of these times he had made the wrong decision. And the one proper decision he made —to share her bed that night— the decision that had apparently turned the tables, he had almost ruined it. He had been right, she did care, but the amount of alcohol he had consumed cast doubt over his judgement and made him flee. God, he'd never been a coward in his life. He had gambled for profit, chased gold, broken blockades, stared down the barrel of a gun and killed more times than he wished to remember. Yet when it came to her, he was as scared as a turkey in November. Because he knew that nothing could break him except for one thing. The one and only constant fear he had, ever since he fell in love with her. Her rejection.

But the previous day she hadn't. Once he made a step towards her, she responded. And the more he was reaching out to her during the day the more willing she was to reciprocate. They had talked, they had laughed. And most of all, she had given in to him of her own free will and they had both gloried in it. And here they were, lying in each other's arms for the first time in years. Was that what he should have done all along? Reach out and listen? He would never know. Still, he was glad he had finally done it.

He carefully removed her hair from his face to take in the sight of her. He could spend hours watching her sleep memorizing every detail of the beloved features; the whiteness of the skin, the roundness of the cheekbones, the bridge of the nose, the lines of the jaws, the rosy lips now curved in the same content smile since the night before, the arches of the brows over her cattish eyes. Oh, those eyes. A color he had carried with him wherever he went. And he found himself facing another crossroad; let her sleep and rest, delicate as her condition was —his heart jumped with joy just by thinking about it— or risk to wake her, aching as his whole being was to touch her again. She then shifted in her sleep. She moved the hand formerly rested on his chest, and placed it in the crook of his neck all the while snuggling closer to him with a sigh. A frisson of mad desire pierced through him, violently awakening his body, so powerful it made his breath stop. And the die was cast.

He feather-traced her face first with his fingertips then with his lips, and kiss after kiss after kiss slowly glided down to her swanlike neck and the uncovered flesh of her shoulder, gently stirring her out of sleep. His hand roved her leg that was wrapped around him and wormed his way under her nightgown all the way up to her back. He felt her own hands running through his hair and then heard her soft moan as he placed a kiss behind her ear, before raising his eyes to her. She bore an adorable expression, a mixture of doziness and want, and under his gaze she quickly turned red.

"Good morning," she murmured timidly.

"A good morning indeed, Mrs. Butler," he smiled broadly and claimed her mouth in a hungry kiss. And once again she reciprocated.

"Such a lovely idea you had, Captain Butler," Melanie said taking the offered cup of lemonade from his hand. "Thank you for inviting us."

The plan took form in Rhett's mind while they were having breakfast in bed. He knew that a lot of mending was needed to restore Scarlett's face among the Old Guard. Melanie had done her part during his absence as best as she could, but now the time had come to take action into his own hands. Dinning out last night was a good start and it had definitely served its purpose. Grandfather Merriwether was only one of those who saw them going into the restaurant and Rhett was pretty sure he spotted Andy Bonnell looking at them at some point. Much more was needed though to salvage the situation. He had beat his way back to respectability for the sake of Bonnie, not caring one bit about what it had done to Scarlett's reputation. Now he would use whatever esteem he had gained for the sake of his wife and baby. And what's more effective than a last minute family picnic in the park on a warm July's afternoon, when most of Atlanta's dowagers would probably be there too. To his delight, Scarlett went along with great enthusiasm.

"Your company is always a pleasure to us, Miss Melly," Rhett offered back. "I'm glad you could make it in such short notice."

"Oh, Beau got so excited I couldn't possibly say 'no' to him," she laughed merrily. "How was your trip? I'm sure your mother is thrilled with Bonnie."

"Yes, she is," he smiled. "She already has three grandchildren from my brother and sister. But I was the sworn bachelor of the family and her first born, so a child of mine was like a dream come true for her."

"Why, yes, of course," she dropped her eyes, embarrassed by his forwardness.

He then caught eye of Mrs. Whiting with her daughter-in-law and little Joe, and much like he expected them to do, they started walking towards them the moment they saw them.

"Trust me and play along," he whispered in Scarlett's ear and before she had a chance to question him about it, he stood up to great them.

"Good evening," said Mrs. Whiting.

"Good evening to you too, Mrs. Whiting. Mrs. Whiting," he bowed politely. "Would you like to join us?"

"Oh, no! We wouldn't want to impose on you."

"Not at all, I assure you," his charming smile in place. "I'm afraid our cook went a bit too far and prepared enough refreshments to quench the thirst of the entire city. Please, make yourself comfortable. Joe, why don't you go along with your friends?" he pointed towards the children who were in the middle of a "go fetch" game with Wade's St. Bernard dog.

"Captain Butler, welcome back. Scarlett told us you were in Charleston to visit your mother," Mrs. Whiting cut straight to the point.

"I'm glad to be back, Mrs. Whiting. Thank you very much. In fact I had an urgent business in New Orleans that required my immediate attention and I thought it would be a great opportunity to take Bonnie to Charleston to meet her grandmother as well."

"How very thoughtful of you! And how is Charleston this time of the year?"

"Warm and humid, Mrs. Whiting." He put an arm around Scarlett and said: "And quite lonely, if I may add."

Scarlett tensed, but he ignored her and pulled her closer.

"I didn't plan to stay away for more than a couple of weeks," he went on. "That's why I told Scarlett not to come with me."

The old lady blinked in surprise and he smiled inwardly. He could feel Scarlett's gaze gawked on him.

"But you know how unpredictable business can be. Two weeks quickly turned into a month. When I realized it would take me much longer than expected, I wired her to join me with the children," he turned to Scarlett with a wide grin. She appeared nonchalant, but her eyes were spitting green fire. "Didn't I, darling?"

"Yes, that you did, darling," a frozen smile on her lips.

"By that time she was feeling slightly under the weather though, and I couldn't possibly let her travel in a state of unwellness."

"And you were quite right, Captain Butler," Melanie stepped in. "I insisted upon it myself."

The unexpected alliance only served to shock Mrs. Whiting all the more. She looked goofily from Scarlett to Rhett to Melanie and back again shifting awkwardly on her spot.

"No, no," she finally uttered. "Of course not."

"May I offer you a cup of lemonade, ladies? It's mighty refreshing, let me tell you. Perfect for as warm a day as this."

It was a tense and unusually quiet ride back, especially after the stop at Ivy Street and all the way up to Peachtree Street. For the adults that is. Because the children had a great time and they were chatting happily among themselves. He made an attempt to hold her hand, but she jerked it away.

"Scarlett."

"Not now," she said through clenched teeth, not even looking at him.

For the life of him, he didn't know why she was that furious.

Mammy and Prissy took the children for a bath and he literally pulled her in the parlor.

"Will you tell me what's wrong now?" he was beginning to lose his patience.

"Oh, I will tell you alright," she lashed out. "What was that about? This prank you orchestrated."

"I thought my motives were self-evident," he puzzled. Had she really not understood a thing?

"No, they are not. Not to me at least. All the pretty smiles and caresses and lies and in front of Mrs. Whiting of all people," she exaggerated. "And you dragged Melly into this as well."

"That, to be honest, I hadn't foreseen," he chuckled. "She acted on her own accord."

"How could you do this to me, Rhett, after what I've been through for the past three months? They gossiped about me, talked about me behind my back, spread horrible lies about me. I've tried so hard to hold my head high, to ignore their hateful looks and the sudden silence whenever I entered a room. And now I have to go all over it again. By supper time I would be the main topic in every single house in Atlanta, for heaven's sake."

"Exactly."

"Exactly? What do you mean 'exactly'? That was your plan? To have people talking about me?"

"God, Scarlett," he sighed. "You can't see anything unless it's under your nose, can you?"

"Apparently I can't, simple minded that I am," she said coldly. "I guess you have to spell it out for me."

"My plan was to have people talking about me. That I didn't leave because of the scandal, that I believe you are innocent and it was just another business trip for me. That I wanted to be with you, but my business and your pregnancy kept us apart. That I am the father of your child and very happy about it too."

"Oh," she breathed, all air knocked out of her sails, and sat listlessly on a couch. "But... But... you said it isn't your mess to fix," she whispered.

"You said I should have stayed," he retorted. "And you were right," he sat next to her and twined his hand with hers. "I can't change that and I'm sorry. But I'm here now."

"For the sake of the baby?" she kept her eyes down.

"That's what you gathered from what I said? That I did it solely for the sake of the baby?"

He put a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. Clouds of doubt gloomed her features.

"I did it for both your sakes as well as mine," he offered.

"Yours?" she puzzled.

"Sooner or later, someone would have been brave enough to drop a hint about you or our baby in my presence. I went into a lot of trouble to pass as a proper gentleman, but I wouldn't trust myself to act like one if they did," he smiled.

"I'm sorry," she offered earnestly.

"You are forgiven," he tried to ease her mind.

"Do you really mean it?" her voice shaky with uncertainty.

"Mean what?"

"That you regretted leaving."

She was much more hurt by all this than she had allowed him to believe. He could see that now. Those fat old cats had almost broken her spirit and he had made it easier for them. The bite of self-reproach again.

"I do," he nodded.

She hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder, visibly relieved.

"Thank you, Rhett."

"You are welcome, Scarlett," he elbowed her teasingly and she giggled. Music to his ears to make his girl laugh again.

"She did blench as if she had stared death in the face, didn't she?" her humor returned.

"Ah, to be a fly on that wall, when she recites the story to that female dragon Mrs. Merriwether!"

Her giggles turned into laughter and he was happy to join her.

Back to Rhett's POV and there he is, making amends. Was it believable? What is OOC? I had fun writing it and I'm afraid I can't be objective about it. I leave it up to you.

(Mortified) PS: Apparently the combination of homophones, over confidence and rush to post doesn't sit well with me! At least that's my excuse for the double slip of the tongue (keyboard in my case) in the previous chapter. :-((((((( Fun fact: It was sake vs shake in this chapter. Which was much less dirty and spotted in time.

Your turn! Tell me what you think, make me happy! xxx