Thank you, lovely people, for your delightful reviews. I can't believe that you were able to roll with something so dark and so different. You are fabulous as usual. As per request, here is more about the younger kids, this time interacting with Scarlett. It's not a terribly humorous chapter, but it was necessary.

`Now! Now!' cried the Queen. `Faster! Faster!' And they went so fast that at last they seemed to skim through the air, hardly touching the ground with their feet, till suddenly, just as Alice was getting quite exhausted, they stopped, and she found herself sitting on the ground, breathless and giddy.

The Queen propped her up against a tree, and said kindly, `You may rest a little now.'

Alice looked round her in great surprise. `Why, I do believe we've been under this tree the whole time! Everything's just as it was!'

`Of course it is,' said the Queen, `what would you have it?'

`Well, in our country,' said Alice, still panting a little, `you'd generally get to somewhere else - if you ran very fast for a long time, as we've been doing.'

`A slow sort of country!' said the Queen. `Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place. If you want to get somewhere else, you must run at least twice as fast as that!'

- Lewis Carrol, Through the Looking Glass

Ashley Wilkes presented himself to the consideration of Mr. Rhett Butler at 7:30 a.m. the next day, before said gentleman had left for the office. As he was shown into the library, he had a brief minute to look around, and admire his former rival's taste, both in furniture and in literature. It was a warm, elegant room of red cherry wood furniture, soft-toned wood floors and islands of reddish-beige Persian carpet. Modern 'open' bookcases laced the walls, mixed in with the more old-fashioned barrister versions. A desk stood on one side, and elegant sitting group on the other. As expected, it was a beautiful room. What was, perhaps, less anticipated was that it was also a comfortable room, a room that would draw in children, and dogs - like the large yellow setter that had managed to curl up under the desk despite the limited space, and the small, round-faced black boy that briefly peaked around the corner, withdrawing when he found the room occupied.

It was, in short, the room of a happy man, somehow both cultured and inviting. Who would have believed it, Ashley thought to himself.

"Mr. Wilkes."

Ashley turned, and smiled at the man who had just entered the library. "After our…..extensive history together, I think we have earned the right to call each other by our first names."

"How may I be of service?" There was no lessening of the formality in Rhett's tone, although he did offer cigars and brandy, which Ashley declined, due to the early hour.

"I apologize for my early intrusion, but I'd hoped to catch you before you leave for work today." He hesitated. "I've come …. I've come because my son intends to make an offer for your daughter's hand this morning. And I know that you would never agree unless I can somehow convince you to let bygones be bygone."

"You believe to know me well," Rhett drawled, but regarded his opponent with something like amused interest, mixed with a hint of derision.

Ashley picked up on it easily. "You seem to believe I want Beau to marry Rose because she looks like Scarlett. That I somehow, both vicariously and misguidedly, want to right the past by uniting Scarlett's and my offspring in marriage."

The sardonic eyebrows went up. "Whatever gives you that idea?"

Ashley walked over to one of the large windows of the library, staring into the barren apple orchards beyond. The pale winter sun fell on his face. "I understand why you would think that. I thought the same thing, when I first saw Rose. I was terrified that history would repeat itself, only with my son. But as I got to know Rose, I realized she is nothing like Scarlett inside. She's like us. She's not... I mean... she's interested in books, and music, and even French philosophy. She and Beau speak the same language, share the same sentiments, have the same outlook on life. I'm not trying to explain or make excuses. My behavior in the past has been abominable enough, and I'll forever berate myself for the damage I've done to Scarlett by not understanding her, or myself – and the damage that was done, by extension, to you. But this is different."

"Of course it is." Now, the derision would have been obvious even to the uninitiated.

"Rhett." Ashley said, with some urgency, turning towards him again. "Beau loves her. He has done you or your family no harm – and in every other way aside from his connection to me, he is everything you could wish for in Rose's husband. He has no vices, a good income, a wide and interesting circle of friends, and would be able to provide well for Rose both financially and spiritually. Yes, she would have to move to Boston for a few years, but over time, we could probably move back to the South, so she can be closer to her family. In the meantime, we would do whatever we could to make sure she sees you regularly."

Rhett, who still stood in the middle of the room, smirked slightly. Then, with a sigh, he seemed to decide to put an end to this painful conversation. "Mr. Wilkes – if you knew me like you claim, you would also know that I do not, as a rule, make the sons suffer the sins of the fathers. Your own motivation is not even of tertiary importance to me. While I may not welcome the match, I will do nothing to prevent Rose from marrying Beau, should that be her wish."

Ashley looked both relieved, and somewhat wistful. "And you do not chose to forgive me."

It wasn't a question, and Rhett gave no answer.

"Good-bye, Mr. Butler", the other man said, softly. "And thank you, nonetheless." He left the room slowly, his silver hair the last thing to disappear into the darkness of the hallway.

~~oo~~

Gerald opened the door. "Hi Cousin Thad," he said briefly. "I thought you went back to Texas. " He held a long, narrow object with two small, circular protrusions in one hand, which seemed to arrest his interest much more than the returning visitor. "Everyone's out," he added, after stepping aside to allow his cousin to enter.

"Where is Rose?" Thad asked, not wasting time with preliminaries.

"In the orchard, with Cousin Beau."

A brief silence. "Do you know what they are doing?"

Gerald hesitated, and closed one eye to peer at him closely. "Promise not to tell?" In the past, Cousin Thad had never been a snitch.

Thad said nothing, which Gerry took as sufficient encouragement. "I …. sort of borrowed Perry's periscope from his room, and spied on them from behind the stables," he confided. "But don't tell Perry I borrowed it. He's ever so mean about sharing." And, as an afterthought: "Don't tell Rose either."

"What did they say?"

Gerald shot him a look of disgust. "Periscopes can't hear," he explained, as if to a slow child. "They see things."

"What did you see?"

Grownups were odd, Gerry decided. Usually, they told him spying was impolite. Stopitrightnowgerry. And now ….

"Cousin Beau was kneeling," he reported, his excitement catching fire in his voice. "In the mud! Even though he had on a nice suit, and stuff. And he had a blue ring in his hand, all big and blue and shiny. You know. Like a sapp…..safff….."

"A sapphire," Thad supplied, mechanically.

"Yes. And he gave it to Rose."

Something in Thad's face made Gerald take a step backwards.

"What did she do?"

"She took it," Gerry said, confused.

"I see," Thad said. Gerry took another step backwards. He blinked. And when he opened his eyes again, Cousin Thad seemed once more like his normal self.

"I don't need to see anyone after all," Thad said, evenly. "Do me a favor, will you, Gerry? Don't tell anyone you saw me. It can be ….our secret."

Gerald looked at him with interest. "I like secrets."

"Good." Thad stared at Gerry's face for a moment with an odd, intense expression, as if searching for a resemblance. Then he quickly ran his hand through the boy's dark hair. "Good-bye," he said, softly.

He turned around and closed the door behind him. They would not see him again for another two years.

Scarlett returned from her morning engagement merely ten minutes after he left. Had her carriage not been held up by the fire-wagon north of Rutledge Avenue, she might have arrived before Thad, and greeted him herself - and the course of several lives might have been altered.

"Gerry," Scarlett said, seeing her youngest son in the parlor. "Where are the other boys?"

"Doing 'rithmetic with Miss Addy in the school-room, " he said. "She told me to go play for a couple of hours because I was 'stracting them by making noises. But I was only making noises 'cause I was bored."

"I see," said his mother.

"Cousin Thad was here," he offered. "Oh. I forgot. That was 'supposed to be a secret".

"Thad was here?" Scarlett said, with some concern.

"He came, and he left. He didn't want to see anyone after all," said Gerry, deciding he might as well spill everything. "And Rose got a big, blue ring from Cousin Beau!"

"She did?" Scarlett said, even more agitated, and entirely diverted from the news of Thad's arrival, and subsequent disappearance.

He nodded. To his considerable relief, his mother did not ask where he had gotten his information.

"Well," Scarlett said, distractedly. "Go play. I have to think!"

~~oo~~

"Rose," Scarlett asked, when her daughter returned to the house by the back door, her ardent suitor nowhere to be found. "Do you have something to tell me?"

"Beau Wilkes proposed." Her daughter's tone wasn't precisely unenthusiastic.

"So he came back," Scarlett murmured, stating the obvious.

"He only went away to buy a ring."

"And?" When Rose simply stared at her, she clarified, "I mean, what did you say?"

"I told him I'd think about it."

"Will you?"

"Yes." A firm nod, and a look of determination.

"Do you have the ring?"

Rose laughed, wryly. "I believe it's considered impolite to keep the ring before actually accepting the man." She paused. "It's lovely, if that's what you're asking. A large sapphire surrounded by diamonds."

"They're from a good family," Scarlett said faintly. Whatever she may have said against the match in the past – and in her mind, a close connection to the Wilkes was less than desirable for any number of reasons – it was far preferable to the alternative.

"I know." Rose looked even more statuesque than usual. There was no color in her face. She didn't even look pale, Scarlett thought disjointedly. She appeared as though she were made of solid marble. Her mother decided to blame it on the ivory walking dress.

"He said he would do ….everything in his power to make me happy."

"He would." Scarlett replied, hopefully. "He's such a nice boy." She tried to push away the mental image of herself married to Ashley. That would never have worked out, not after she'd realized his true character. But Rose was different from herself, wasn't she? Rose liked dull books, and opera, and unimportant things that happened in the past – the kind of things the Wilkes were always going on about. It might work out quite well. Better than ….

Suddenly, she saw Thad's face flash before her mind's eye, not as he was now, but the boyish, charming face he had had when he was her only companion in the mountain wilderness of Colorado, where he had felt as close as a brother. She attempted to push that image away, too. She almost succeeded.

"I believe you and Beau could be very happy together!" she forced herself to say, brightly. A rock-like discomfort stuck in her throat, that she was unwilling and unable to analyze. After all, what mother wouldn't advise her daughter to make the best match possible? Or rather, she thought wryly, the best match Rose was willing to consider.

But the strange feeling remained, and would not be dislodged again for quite some time.

Had she been bookish, or deeply religious, she might have said she felt a little bit like Cain.

~~oo~~

"I've received an offer for your hand."

"Who?" She sounded as interested as if they were talking about a visitor coming for tea.

Her father regarded her closely. "Ashley Wilkes, in lieu of his son Beau. I gather Beau has already spoken to you."

She said nothing.

"Were you surprised?"

She shook her head. "What did Mr. Wilkes say?"

"He said Beau loves you, and will do whatever is in his power to make you happy. And he begged me not to let ancient family history stand in the way of his son's suit."

She smiled, albeit slightly.

He took a step closer to her. "Rose. There is absolutely no reason for you to marry according to your mother's wishes. Or mine, for that matter. To tell you the whole truth," he smirked, "I admit a Wilkes wouldn't have been my first choice anyways."

She smiled, and shook her head. "I would never marry except to oblige myself."

He watched her, and then took a stab in the dark. "What about Thad?"

For several heartbeats, he thought she would not answer at all. "Remember what you said? During the carriage ride in the fog? About how you loved Bonnie, and mother? About loving immoderately?"

He nodded, slowly, the entire scene standing clearly before his eyes. "I do remember."

"I'm the same way," she said softly. "I also love immoderately, when I love. And…...it frightens me."

"I'm not sure I understand."

She didn't answer again for several moments, then turned her pale face towards him again with a strange, cold fire in her eyes. "Don't you see? It's been over two years since our tentative reconciliation in Galveston, and I know that in those two years you've let yourself love me much more than you had in the past. But can you honestly say you're not still hedging your bets to a certain degree? With me, and even with mother?"

There was an expression of surprise in his swarthy face. He seemed about to answer her, but he stopped.

She nodded, as if having her beliefs confirmed. "Even if you no longer fear hurting others as much as you did before….the fear of being hurt remains. Surmounting it, being completely open and vulnerable about your love, is the final test of manliness - or womanliness, for that matter. Beau Wilkes has passed it. As has mother. You haven't, quite. And neither have I. Perhaps it is meant to be, and the two of us will always be cowards in matters of the heart. You will continue to hedge your bets, and I – I will continue on as I have, or head for the shelter of an honorable marriage with a man who won't ask too much of me. Like Mr. Beau Wilkes. And I dare say we'll rub by better than most people."

Perhaps, had he found an answer, anything to say to her to disprove her, things might not have gone as they did. But he had not. And he remained with the nagging feeling that while she had spoken the truth - it had not been the whole truth. Not quite. There were other, darker things in her eyes.

The very next day, Rose formally accepted Beau's offer.

~~oo~~

The household was thrown into a flurry of activities. Scarlett, who had done it all before for Ella's wedding, was unperturbed, as she already had the names of the best florists, dressmakers, musicians and caterers of the entire city on file. If there was one thing she excelled at, it was throwing a very large party, and this was going to be the largest party of all. Her taste had refined somewhat over the years, but she could still be both flamboyant and ostentatious if called upon. The preparations went so smoothly that no one, except the bride's father perhaps, noticed that Rose was walking around as if caught up in a not entirely pleasant dream.

One sunny afternoon, Scarlett had just come home from another meeting with the dressmaker whom she had commissioned to make Rose's wedding dress. Rose had chosen the style and the material herself, and it was coming together beautifully. Rose, the fond mother thought, would look like a princess.

She had barely entered the house when she was accosted by her second son.

"Mother!" Perry yelled. "Gerry took my periscope again, without asking!"

"You should share with your brothers," Scarlett said, mechanically. She conveniently forgot that she herself had never been particularly fond of sharing toys (or later, clothes and shoes, or beaux) with her sisters.

"But it's mine," Perry grumbled. "I made it all by myself. Well, actually, Dad built it. But I helped! And I don't mind sharing with Dan, because he's careful, but I don't want Gerry breaking it. It has mirrors in it you know. It can even see around corners."

"Very nice, my dear." His mother was only listening with half her mind as she took off her coat, her hat and her gloves, and put them away.

"It saw Cherry go into Cousin Thad's room early in the morning, before Christmas, after the ball," Perry said, his smoldering curiosity about the odd movements of adults overcoming his fear of scolding. "In, out! And Rose, too. In, out!

This jumbled account caused screeching alarm bells to go off in the maternal heart. She whirled around to face him with all of her old grace. He had her full attention, now. "Rose was in Thad's room early in the morning?"

"No," Perry said, shaking his head. "Cherry went into Cousin Thad's room. I mean, first she came up the stairs, of course. That's what woke me, you see. Because our room is right next to the stairs. We can always hear who's coming up, and then we spy on them. Except Dan was asleep this time." He sounded slightly disdainful.

"Yes," Scarlett said, refusing to be side-tracked by trivialities. "What happened then?"

Perry picked up his narrative. "After a minute, she came out again! And by that time, Rose had come out of her room, and was just standing there. And then Cherry went back down the stairs, and then Rose went back into her own room! I think Cherry didn't see Rose," he said. "But I did. You see, you can see the entire corridor with the periscope if you turn it around like this." He demonstrated a quick, elegant twist with his wrist. Then he turned his green gaze on his mother again."Do you know what they were doing? I've been thinking about it all this time. It was just so….. odd!"

It was to Scarlett's credit that this incoherent rendition played out with perfect clarity inside of her head. She caught both the implications, and the potential consequences of the young spy's confession. It explained so much that had previously puzzled her. Rose's reversal. Thad's anger. Not to mention….

And she felt a dull ache start to build up in her chest.

Most of us, at some point in our lives, are tested. Some of us are called upon to do heroics of the physical kind: one enormous burst of courage in the battlefield, braving enemy fire to save a wounded comrade, or pulling a child from a burning building. Others endure tests of a different sort. Sometimes, the most difficult tests are the ones that require us to set aside our own vanities, our most cherished hopes and deepest insecurities – for no other reason than to do the right thing.

A last hope flickered. "You're sure Cherry was only in Thad's room for a minute?"

"Maybe two," Perry conceded. "Probably less. In, out." He looked at her curiously, but even a ten-year old could see this was not the time to ask more questions.

Scarlett sighed. Her thoughts flew to the wedding, to the preparations already made, to the money already spent. She thought of her friends, their opinions, what they would say if Rose cried off at the last moment. She thought of the scandal. She thought of Rhett. And then she thought of her sixteen year old self, standing at the altar beside the wrong man for the wrong reasons.

"Where is Rose?"

"In her room."

"Find her, and bring her to the drawing room." She told her son. A thought struck her. "And get Gerry too. I need to ask him something."

And she had passed.