Thank you once again to all who have been reading this – and especially to my reviewers, including Caroline, Darth Ripley, Sunnyray and Iambbq. All comments – including the bad ones are welcome!

Of course Ms Mitchell owns the rights in all these fabulous characters. No breach of copyright is intended.

Chapter 7

Scarlett awoke to an all enveloping but peaceful darkness, only lightened by the soft shimmer of the moon that was still a high, solitary figure in the sky. Morning was still several hours away.

She felt a cool breeze ripple over her face and welcomed it, thankful that the door to the balcony had been left ajar.

She turned slowly towards her sleeping husband, whose arm was draped over her naked hip and then she looked at her nightgown and wrapper that lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and beside them, his pants and shirt and everything came flooding back. She didn't need to feel the stickiness between her legs to remember what had transpired.

She wasn't entirely sure how it had happened – it had all been so unexpected and she was definitely caught off guard. And, as she thought about it, she reckoned he had too. She remembered the overpowering sadness that had followed her throughout the whole of yesterday and how Rhett's melancholy had seemingly matched her own. She remembered allowing some of her stored up tears to fall, offering her a moment's relief from the agony she had carried for months, an agony she knew was surpassed by Rhett's own. She remembered him removing her clothes with an urgency that she had only seen once before but teamed with a tenderness that she couldn't ever recall. She remembered looking into the eyes of a proud but broken man and wishing acutely she could do something to take away his pain. She remembered her own sudden need to feel something physical, anything, to pierce the numbness that had acted like a cocoon round her for the last eight months. And she remembered crying softly in his arms afterwards, when they both lay spent and him wrapping her long, ebony hair round his throat and her wondering if it was the moisture from his tears that made her hair damp or the sweat from their exertions.

There had been no declarations of love from either of them and all she had wanted, needed and received was his physical touch and a sense of being alive again. And she had taken pleasure in it, revelled in it even. But she knew it had meant nothing to him and strangely she did not mind.

She touched his hand and gently moved it off her. Then, she slid to the side of the bed and got up. She put on her nightgown and wrapper and made her way tentatively to the door. She opened it slowly, crept out and shut it and then took one of the lanterns that was situated on the grand landing and lit it and made her way to the bedroom that Suellen and Will used, on the odd occasion they had visited her in Atlanta. She opened the door and then stopped. Why was she running away? He was in her bedroom and she had nothing to be ashamed of, had she? God forbid if he thought she was somehow regretting what had happened. She was being ridiculous, cowardly even. She closed the door, returned to her bedroom and climbed back into her bed, clinging stiffly to her side. In her absence Rhett had stretched out and looked as though he was not going anywhere – for a while at least. She looked at him and felt a strong urge to touch his tranquil face – but she resisted. She didn't want him to wake up and be under any illusions that she somehow thought their lovemaking meant anything more to her than it had to him.

She fell asleep again and was woken by the sun streaming through the drapes and the birds chirping their morning greeting. In her sleep she had turned and was now facing her husband. She opened her tear stung eyes and yawned. He was propped up on his elbow, the blankets pushed down to his waist and was looking intensely at her. As soon as their eyes met, his expression became the blank canvass she had become used to over the years.

"Good morning," he said quietly.

"Good morning," she replied, thankful that her modesty was protected by her nightdress.

"Did you sleep well?" So, Scarlett mused, they had already slipped back into conversing with the polite indifference that had prevailed in the final years of their marriage.

"Off and on," she answered, hoping her expression appeared as bland as his.

He cleared his throat. "Well, now that you are awake, I guess I can go." What was that supposed to mean? Her confusion must have registered on her face because he added. "I didn't want you to think I was avoiding you after...er...our activities of last night so I thought for once I would walk on the right side of chivalry and wait until you awoke before I took my leave." She didn't say anything and instead shrugged nonchalantly, pulling the covers further up her neck. She looked at him as he got out of bed and put his clothes on. She felt an unwelcome fluttering in her heart as she stared at his tanned, muscular body and then a strange ache between her legs.

"Remember, I'm taking Wade to get a horse," he said to her as he buttoned up his pants. "Just in case you wonder where he is. We'll probably be out all day." Aah yes, she had forgotten Rhett's promise to her son. "I know someone near Jonesboro who will have something perfect for him so we might go there."

"Fine," she said gently. "I trust your judgment." He moved towards the balcony. How ironic that a married couple could not be caught in the same bedroom, she thought. And even he must know that the subterfuge was unnecessary – nothing got past their servants and certainly nothing past Mammy. He parted the voile curtain to make his exit and then suddenly stopped. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen Bonnie's doll that Scarlett had left on her chaise longue a few hours earlier. He went over to it and picked it up. He stared at it for a while, twisting the dark, chocolate curls in his fingers, absorbed in his own memories. Scarlett got out of bed slowly and tentatively went over to him. She put a hand on his back and then, remembering it was her husband she was dealing with, she quickly withdrew it. He looked at her, his eyes black saucers holding a multitude of secrets.

"I was going to see if Dilcey could mend her. The arm's completely fallen off now," Scarlett said quietly.

"Is there really any point?" he asked, equally quietly. "I mean she's broken and she'll never be properly fixed." Like our marriage, Scarlett thought.

"Well, I think there's a point, Rhett," she said gently but insistently. "Maybe I'll keep her in this bedroom or maybe I'll give her to Ella. If you don't want her."

"I didn't have you down as someone overly sentimental." He put the doll back on the furniture.

"You don't have me down as much Rhett," she responded, her voice crackling with just a teaspoon of hurt.

"Sorry, Scarlett. I didn't mean it to come out like that," he said. "It's just...well, I didn't have you down as someone who would care about a...this...toy."

"I guess I don't know what I care about these days. I keep searching for that answer." He looked at her, his eyes flickering with...something she hadn't ever seen. God, she hoped it wasn't his pity or kindness.

"Anyway," she said, her voice stronger and with determination, "We never sorted out her room did we? We probably should..." her voice trailed off as a rising sob cut her vocal chords. He shook his head.

"You sort the room – do with it what you will. I'm not sure that I'll ever be ready for that."

She nodded slowly. "I don't intend to do it just yet but...well, maybe after the summer, it's just...I guess I'd rather remember her alive than create some sort of mausoleum in this house." He smiled at her, with a hint of approval.

"I've always admired your bravery," he said in almost a whisper.

"I've not always had a lot of choice," Scarlett scoffed, trying to make light of his comments.

"Maybe not..." He put Ruby down again and walked over to the doors. He hesitated at the threshold and then turned to his wife. "Scarlett, I want to say...I mean...about last night..." Oh dear God, please don't say anything, she silently willed. She didn't want him to say that it had been a mistake or that it hadn't changed anything or to remind her that he didn't love her. She knew that. She had been used, probably in the same way as he used Belle's girls and she didn't care. Hadn't she used him too?

"Oh please, Rhett, there's no need to say anything. I'm not an ingen...engen..." she struggled to get the word out.

"Ingénue..." he helped. Scarlett had always been hopeless with long or foreign words.

"Exactly. Ingénue," she copied. "I've had three husbands and..." He smiled at her, this time with the familiar mischievousness that she had become used to over the years. He walked back over to her and kissed her on her forehead, like her father had been wont to do.

"Just as long as...well, anyway. It doesn't matter. I'd better start my day." He turned away and as he pulled the thin translucent curtain back, he piped. "I didn't regret it though," and then winked at her and walked away. She smiled coyly to herself. Was there a thawing in the ice that encased them?

As she lost sight of his back, she suddenly remembered the ball. How had they left it? And then she remembered their terse exchange a couple of nights before when she had told him she didn't want him to go but now...now...

Damn, she thought. "Rhett," she called out in a hoarse whisper. But if he heard, he didn't return.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~S&R~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By nine o'clock, Wade and Rhett had left the house. She caught a peak of them as they made their way down the staircase, Wade mimicking Rhett in dress and attempting to mimic him in swagger. He was babbling away with excitement and had put on a wide brimmed panama hat – just like Rhett wore. She sighed. Rhett had always had an easiness with children and she knew that, however hard she might try, she could never hope to replicate it.

She called for Mammy to help her dress and by Mammy's raised eyebrows, she knew Mammy was aware that Rhett had slept in her room the previous night. She was still as astute as ever, despite her increasing years.

"Yuz in a mighty fine muwd, today Miss Scarlett," Mammy commented. Scarlett eyed her suspiciously.

"Am I, Mammy? No finer than any other day. Now, if you could just help me into this dress." From her closet, she grabbed an off white taffeta creation with emerald green overlay at the bodice, that cinched in at the waist perfectly. In spite of herself, she found herself thinking about Rhett and him taking her to bed and the thrill she got from it all. It had been so long ago since she had had any form of intimacy with Rhett – in fact, the last time, was that wild night when he had literally swept her off her feet but unlike that night, this time she had not woken up bruised – either mentally or physically.

"Now Mammy darling, I'm going to the ball tonight – the one for the Ladies Memorial Association – and I want to wear my midnight blue watered silk gown. I'll need help with my hair, we can rinse it with cologne and I will probably want a bath before I go out so if you would be an angel and have everything ready for me for five o'clock, I should be back by then."

"Miss Scarlett, Ahs think yo' shud wear yer black gown. It's mor fittin' for the Memorial Association and Miss Melly..." Scarlett flashed her cat's eyes at her old nursemaid.

"Mammy..."

"Der is no one else to tell yer Miss Scarlett. Miss Ellen wuld agree wid me."

"Mammy, Mother has probably not agreed with much I have done over the last few years. Now, please just be a darling and do as I ask." She kissed the old black broad on her cheek coquettishly and then took out her pearl necklace from her ermine covered jewellery box. She snapped the box shut and without stopping to put the necklace on, opened the door.

"I'll be at the store, Mammy, just in case anyone is looking for me. I think Ella is meant to be playing with Beau today but I can't remember what was arranged."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~S&R~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scarlett spent a restless morning at the store and in the afternoon, when there were fewer customers, she decided to take her carriage to the mills. She had no reason to go there but she was bored and she hoped she might bump into Ashley. She hadn't seen him for weeks as he had been so busy with the mills and she felt that if she didn't check in on him soon, she would be failing in her promise to Melly. She would likely see him tonight at the ball, but she was well aware that all suspicious eyes would be on them and they would have no privacy.

When she got to the mills, she parked her carriage, tied up her horse and went inside to his office. He was alone.

"Ashley, darling," she said affectionately, as he stood up to greet her and kissed her outstretched hand.

"What a lovely surprise, Scarlett," he said. "I was just finishing here and thinking that I should get home to Beau – I haven't seen much of him recently. Come, sit down," he gestured towards a leather chair in the corner of his office. "Can I get you some lime cordial?"

"That would be wonderful. The sun has been quite hot today and I'm thirsty from the drive over." He went over to another corner of the room and poured them both two glasses of cordial.

"Here you are," he said, handing her a glass. She took it and sipped a few mouthfuls. "So, how have you been?"

"I've been fine, Ashley. Just keeping myself busy. It's easier that way. I saw Aunt Pitty yesterday. It was Bonnie's birthday and..." Her voice drifted off and for a moment she thought of her dead daughter. Then she said, changing topics, "I suspect you heard that Rhett is back."

"Well, yes, India did mention it. And Beau." Ashley averted his eyes, awkwardly.

"No explanation, nothing. He just appeared out of nowhere on Wednesday afternoon," she said, an edge of bitterness creeping into her voice. To anyone else, she would never in a million years admit that Rhett had effectively abandoned her but with Ashley, she didn't have to pretend. It was strange how, with Melanie's passing, their relationship had shifted from one of imagined lustful love, to one of pure and platonic friendship and, just like Rhett, he knew the real circumstances of all her marriages and also had a fair idea of the state of her current marriage. "He hasn't even told me where he's been or told me how long he is going to stay. He just waltzes back into my life and the children's. No doubt he will be off again soon." Her voice wavered as the memory and humiliation of his desertion washed over her and then she steeled herself as she remembered the events of last night. Despite their physical intimacy, nothing had changed between them and she was fine with that. Wasn't she?

"Oh Scarlett," he said, as he reached out and squeezed her free hand. "You mustn't let him upset you."

"Don't worry about me. I'm not really upset, just frustrated I guess from his...behaviour. But it's my fault too. I'm sure everything will work out in the end." She reached into her black purse and pulled out Rhett's handkerchief and wiped her eyes. "Anyway," she said, putting on the brave smile that had always been part of her armour, "I came to see how you are doing not talk about my woes. Is business good? Do you want me to take a look at the books?" When she had first suggested this in the month after Melly had died, his face had flushed crimson with embarrassment but he had reluctantly let her. Now he had no reservations about turning over his books to her.

"If you wouldn't mind," he said. "It would be good to have you cast your eyes over last month's business."

"Why don't you give me the ledger now and I'll take it home and return it one day next week?" He nodded, went over to his desk and pulled a brown, leather book down from one of the adjacent dusty shelves.

"Thank you, my dear," he said, handing it to her and sitting on the edge of the chair. "Business hasn't been bad. In fact, René's cousin is in town and..." He was momentarily interrupted by a knock at the door. Simon, one of the overseers poked his head round.

"Mr Wilkes, Mr Picard is here to see you."

"Tell him, I'll be right out." Waiting for the door to close, Ashley then said, "That'll be him. He's building a couple of saloons in Louisiana and is sourcing some of his material from me. I should go and see him." He stood up and Scarlett rose to her feet too, the heavy ledger in her arms.

"I'd best be going then," she said. "Will I see you tonight at the ball?"

"Yes, yes. India, Honey, John and I will be there."

"Oh, I didn't realise Honey was attending. I haven't seen her since...well, since Melly." Honey was someone Scarlett had no desire to socialise with.

"She's in town until mid next week and of course she knows everyone going to the ball. It'll be strange going to a gathering without Melly. I didn't really want to go, I am not sure it is even appropriate for me to go, but Maybelle and India left me with little choice and told me Melly would likely haunt me more if I didn't go than if I did go. You know how much she was involved in all her charities." Scarlett nodded. Her sister-in-law had been a living saint.

"Maybelle's certainly been very persuasive," she said, thinking of her own invitation. Ashley held the door open for Scarlett and as she sidled past him, her body brushed his shirt. Once, she would have given anything to touch him but now as she did so, her heart didn't even skip a beat.

"Ashley!" Scarlett looked straight ahead in the direction from where the deep voice with Creole inflections came. She knew without being introduced that this was Jack Picard, René's cousin. For some reason she had conjured up a picture of him with the same monkey features as René but in almost all ways, they looked nothing alike. Jack was as dark as René but he had a strong jawline, broad, straight nose and thick black hair that fell over his eyes. He was taller than René – almost as tall as Rhett – and although he was bulky, he carried it well. She felt his eyes fall on her as she and Ashley walked towards him.

"Jack," Ashley greeted, and the two men shook hands. Ashley then turned to Scarlett. "This is my very good friend and my wife's sister-in-law, Scarlett Butler." Again, she felt his eyes bore into her. She smiled demurely at him and held out her hand, still clutching the ledger to her chest with the other.

"Delighted to meet you, Miss...Mrs Butler." He kissed her hand and as he did so, she felt a strange thrill travel up her arm and she felt herself get warm under her collar.

"Delighted too, Mr Picard." And then, because she was beginning to feel slightly self-conscious under his gaze, she added, "I heard from Maybelle that you are staying with them. How long will you be in town?"

"Oh, I haven't quite decided yet. A few more days at least. I haven't been to Atlanta for years – not since René and Maybelle's wedding. It's changed a lot and I like the change." She thought back to Maybelle's wedding which she had attended but couldn't remember him from then.

"Well, I'd best leave you two businessmen to yourselves. It's getting late in the afternoon and I need to get home."

"Enchanted to meet you, Mrs Butler. I hope that we shall see each other again, soon."

"Scarlett's going to the ball tonight that your cousin-in-law has had a hand in arranging," Ashley offered.

"I hope to anyway," Scarlett said, realising she still had to deal with the unresolved issue of Rhett's attendance.

"Well, I shall see you tonight then." He bowed as she sashayed past. She didn't need to turn around to know he was still looking at her and she was relieved that she had worn the dress she had on – green was always her best colour. Scarlett allowed the corners of her mouth to curve up in a satisfied smile as she walked into the bright sunlight. It never harmed her bruised ego to know that she could still work her charms on members of the opposite sex.