A/N: Hi… guess you wanted me to continue this story huh? Well who am I to deny you… I can't promise anything, but let's give it a go. Sorry I abandoned this project so long ago…

Grandfather Robillard was seated at the head of the table before the arrival of Scarlett for dinner and his displeasure was plain on his face. He looked exactly like the portrait that hung behind him. Decorated for his efforts in a war that in the end meant nothing, this handsome old relic only lived in the past.

"Supper is served promptly at Seven o'clock, young lady, however since it is your first day and you are unaccustomed to our punctuality; you are pardoned this one time. Make sure the offense is not repeated." He said then spoke in an angry undertone in French to his daughters. Eulalie turned pale, while her sister blushed crimson at the reproach.

"They did tell me grandfather, the fault is mine. I will make sure to set my watch according to your time." Scarlett said in perfect French.

"Well it seems you do have some education, young lady, however you will not speak unless spoken to," Pierre said motioning to the servant to commence with dinner.

The procession of the dinner was simple; they were each brought a covered silver platter. Scarlett looked at the meal she was presented with almost with distain, as it was only a few slices of boiled potato, a sliver a fish and some soft vegetable that she could not name.

Her aunts did not even look up, but ate silently as did her grandfather. Scarlett found the food bland and completely unfulfilling as she finished, but held her tongue…this time.

As the days passed before her grandfather's birthday, the estate remained the same, a mausoleum. Scarlett for the life of her couldn't figure out why someone would actually want to live this way.

Each room that she toured she took note of the handsome paintings, the marble sculptures and the excellent tapestries. Her favorite room was a drawing room that held a grand piano that probably hadn't made a sound in years. It seemed to call to her, and she was thankful that her mother had forced her to take piano lessons all of her life until she moved away to Atlanta the first time.

As she sat at the beautifully polished black and white keys, music returned to Scarlett's heart, and her fingers moved over the keys as if she were petting her favorite animal, the sound floating up like the purring of a cat. Here she sat playing when she recalled a song that she remembered how to sing.

It was this way that her grandfather found her, playing and singing to a phantom audience. She stopped abruptly when her eyes opened and she was alerted to his presence.

The old man's eyes beheld his granddaughter and for a moment he thought he was looking at his own daughter who would have sat in a similar attitude in front of the same instrument playing the same song…"Your mother used to play that song when she was a girl." The old man said with tears shining in his eyes, "please continue." He asked sitting down before her.

Scarlett began the song from the beginning, sending the old man back to happier days and a smile creased his iron features.

When she finished the song he stood up. "Merci, mon cheri. It would do me great pleasure to have you stay with on with me, after your aunts leave."

Scarlett didn't hesitate to agree.

She rose with her grandfather and walked him back to his study. The walls were shelved with so many books, but the old man was nearly blind, Scarlett was certain, but still he sat in his chair with his pipe as he had done, as his father had done and his grandfather before him.

"Would you like me to read to you, grandfather?" she asked.

"Are you able to read in French?" asked he, his interest peaked.

"I can." Scarlett smiled, thankful that she had spent so much time with Anne learning the language.

"You will find books on this side of the room in French, choose one," said he pointing toward the wall where she would find something.

She returned with a book and sat on a stool near the old man and began to read.

This is how they passed many of their first few weeks together, Scarlett singing and playing to him, and retiring with him to read his favorite books in French.

One of such days, before the aunts had left, the butler arrived with a thick package addressed to Scarlett Butler.

Her face lit up with the prospect, this must be from Rhett. He was the only person who would have known where to find me… besides Uncle Henry…

The package rendered Scarlett faint, and she immediately retired from her grandfather's presence.

Pierre wasn't clairvoyant, but he knew something grave had happened.

"Tell my granddaughter that I am coming in to see her." He said getting up and following her to her quarters.

He could hear her quiet sobbing as the butler announced his presence, and within a few minutes, she had appeared in the antechamber before her boudoir.

"Scarlett, I want to ask you something," Pierre said.

"Yes grandfather," she replied sitting down on the couch, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Why are you here? Are you not married?"

"I am," she replied, the color draining from her cheeks.

"Why are you not with your husband then?" he asked.

"He's divorcing me," she said plainly.

"Has he grounds?"

"He's unhappy, and he's given me plenty of grounds…"

"Do you want to marry again?" grandfather asked.

"Why do you ask?" Scarlett inquired.

"Because I want you to, and I want you to provide an heir."

"I've been married three times grandfather, I don't like it." She said ironically. The truth is that she was still in love with her husband, but she would rather be burned alive at the stake to ever be a slave, or victim to that weak sentiment again.

"I promise to make it worth your while. I'll find you someone suitable and it will be a comfortable arrangement, I can promise you that," he said standing before her. "I'll tell you what, think about it, and we shall discuss it further later."

…

At dinner the aunts were able to see the visible and notable changes in their father. Though still severe, it was almost as if there was the ghost of the person he once was. He had faint smiles once in a while, there was music in the house; the food seemed to have improved as well… no doubt due to Scarlett's ferocious appetite. Pierre seemed to eat more as well.

"Will you be joining us crossing Scarlett?" Aunt Pauline asked.

"No she won't. She will be staying on here with me as my companion. I plan on introducing her to society."

The aunts were stunned and could only stare each one at the other for this revelation. Scarlett had a sweet smile for her grandfather who seemed to daily soften toward her.

When Pierre had finished his dinner, the shift of his plate away from him signaled his departure from the table, and Scarlett dutifully rose and walked him to the drawing room where she would play for him.

As she played she contemplated her life… she had nothing left, everything in its entirety was gone from her.

"Okay grandfather. I'll do it."

Pierre smiled a calculated grin and closed his eyes to the drifting music.