Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns.
Dixon County, TX, August 1880
Doctor Zimmer told Kate that she was ready to resume a normal relationship with Ewan, and Kate wasted no time mentioning it to him as soon as all the children were down for the night. Ewan was only too willing to take Kate up on her offer. Thus in the wee small hours, Katie Scarlett McLure found herself watching the moon that night with great contentment. She knew she ought to get to sleep, but she was too happy. Her husband was snoring lightly into her breasts as she ran her fingers through his hair.
The remainder of spring had been beautiful after Rhett left. He'd left behind a calmer Kate, a Kate who had faced the best and worst thing in her life and set it to rest. Joseph's birth had gone quite smoothly, and Ewan had been unusually affectionate. Ella had done well, bringing her mathematics grade up to a B, although a shaky one. The cotton was doing well, they'd sold all of the horses they had intended this spring at prices close to what they were hoping, and Wade's preparations for Harvard were going smoothly.
Rhett's situation was the only thing that troubled Scarlett. It haunted her that because she had caused him so much pain, he had left her only to find himself in even greater pain. They had both caused the problems in their marriage, but she was in a happy world now while he was stuck in a loveless marriage. At best, it sounded no better than the marriage he'd had with Scarlett toward the end. Was there anything she could do to improve his situation? She considered what she knew of the old guard in Atlanta and whom she knew in Charleston.
Joseph cried.
Ewan stirred. "Is it my turn?"
Kate kissed his head and rolled him onto his pillow. "He'll want me to feed him."
"I can take care of the other things first…"
"Hush, I'm not sleepy right now."
Kate took the baby and changed him before taking him out into the hallway and then downstairs. She went into the office and sat down at the desk. The fussy baby was quickly settled to feed. She put a piece of writing paper on her blotter and stared at it. Would she really write this letter? Would she mail it? Once she did, there would be no going back. Ewan had looked over the Federal and Texas Code and was sure there was no danger to the boys. If Kate succeeded, the entire city of Charleston would know at least part of what she was going to write. This would be a bigger impact than last winter's telegram, which only went to Rhett.
Kate had argued with Wade on the subject for hours at Christmas time. "Mother, I won't have you sacrifice your security."
"Fiddle dee dee. What can he do to us, now?"
"What if he tries to take the boys?"
Kate looked over at Ewan, who answered his step-son. "He'd have to sue just to put himself on the birth certificates, first. It would take months if not years," he said. "Then the custody battle would start. In most cases it would be quickly resolved in Rhett's favor, but this one might take longer due to his absence for so many years.
Wade shook his head. "That's if he takes a legal route. What if he tries something? His letters are very hostile and even menacing."
A letter from Aunt Pauline was produced. "They keep saying it's sad that he's rarely seen completely sober around town. He's painfully proper and courteous but sarcastic. He's clearly drinking a great deal."
"But what if he tries something?"
Kate took a deep breath. "We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it. I won't sacrifice your education another day."
"I could go to Austin, or even Tulane would cost less…"
His mother shook her head. "You're right, Harvard is the only option that makes sense for you. You've been accepted and we just need to get the money."
"I don't like it, Mother."
"Besides," she continued, "now might be a good time for this. He's going to keep trying, and we're doing pretty well right now."
"He is getting closer," observed Ewan. "His investigators have figured out which hotel you used in New Orleans five years ago. My friends made sure he was put off track from there, but it won't be long before they get to Houston."
"The farm is doing well, and the children are happy and healthy."
"I think Uncle Henry and I should try one more time to go to him directly."
Kate was smiling at something. She reached for Ewan's hand and put it over her just-showing tummy.
"Mother?"
"Hm?" she answered.
"I think Uncle Henry and I should go to see Uncle Rhett in person this time, speak to him man to man."
"If you want to try it, Wade. I don't think he'll be happy until he ultimately sees me face to face, but you can try it."
They had stopped in Marietta, just in case Rhett was watching the Atlanta telegraph office. "RHETT SAYS NO." Scarlett knew what to do after that.
If she sent a letter to Uncle Henry and let him forward it to Pauline—no, Eulalie would be better for this one—they could keep from exposing themselves completely, although a fair number of details to their lives would be exposed once those old busybodies started talking. It would work to Rhett's advantage and hopefully wouldn't hurt Kate and the people she loved too much.
Charleston, SC, September 1880
Caroline Butler's friend Margo waddled into Caro's house one morning, shortly after the breakfast. She wasn't supposed to be seen anymore, but this was an urgent matter, and Caro was her best friend, deserving of her support.
"Margo! What are you doing out?" asked Caroline with a wince. This was her friend's second child, and a slap in Caroline's face, a constant reminder that she wasn't loved by her own husband.
"There's a story going all over town," whispered Margo importantly. "Susie Eldridge was over yesterday to ask me if it was true. Is it?"
"Is what?" Caroline had no idea what her friend was talking about.
"They're saying your father arranged your marriage by getting some unsavory information about your husband's sister and holding it against her. Is it true?"
Caroline sat up with umbrage. "Of course not! My husband—" She choked on the lie she would have told. Thinking back over her dubious courtship and everything Rhett ever said about their marriage, she couldn't answer. "I can't imagine that it is."
Margo patted her arm. "Of course not." She didn't stay much longer. She was seven months along and far past the days when she should be at home. Caroline ought to be relieved that the story would go no further, but she wasn't fooled. Margo would tell everyone about her weak response and everyone in town would know that it was now confirmed.
Rhett felt himself sinking again. His life in Charleston was hopeless. He didn't know how he was to continue. Scarlett had found her life, and he was locked into this house with this stupid woman. Scarlett had been good preparation for this, but even she wasn't as stupid, so completely without reasoning skills. Scarlett had pride, too. Rhett knew when she regretted the separate bedrooms, but he had been holding out for the bigger prize. He should have taken advantage of her moments of regret and hoped that the rest of it would grow. McLure had done something like that with her and now had the wife Rhett wanted.
The only thing that kept him from reaching for the whisky bottle was the portraits he'd taken out of storage in Atlanta, and the photographs of the children that Scarlett had let him take. She had been pregnant when the portrait in the evening gown had been painted, and he loved to remember just how receptive she had been to him in those days. It was no mystery why he'd loved Bonnie so much. Bonnie had given Scarlett to him in ways he'd never had her before. Then Scarlett had given him Bonnie, the darling of his life. If that could only have been enough until Scarlett realized she wanted him after all… Rhett wouldn't go down that path.
He was looking at the portrait of Scarlett and Bonnie in his office one evening when his mother sent a message asking that he stop by. Having nothing else to do, he went right over.
"Do you have any clue where this idea came from?" Elizabeth Butler asked her son. She was waving several pages of a letter at him.
When he finally got a page away from her and had a chance to look at it, he said, "That's Scarlett's hand." He'd often admired her clear copperplate script. She'd gotten high marks in penmanship from the Fayetteville Female Academy, for all that she had scoffed at her daughter's excellent grade in it.
"Where did she get such an idea, Rhett?"
"I don't know what idea she might have, Mother?"
"Read it for yourself," she grumbled, handing him the rest of the letter. He put the pages back in order, sat in a chair, and began.
Dear Aunt Eulalie,
I fear I've been quite lazy about sending letters to you. Henry Hamilton informs me that you and Aunt Pauline are doing well with the bank drafts I've been sending to help out. If it's not sufficient, I hope you'll let him know. He's been forwarding your letters to me, and I do hope the roof will hold out, but if you think you need a new one before the storm season gets bad, I hope you will let Henry know and get it taken care of.
Since I've last written you, much has happened in my life. As you've informed me you heard, I was indeed divorced by Rhett. It came as a complete surprise to me, as he'd been visiting us in Atlanta at intervals and he was getting on well with the children and he and I weren't arguing, at least.
I learned about his marriage to the other woman through your letters. I admit that took my by surprise, but I could only assume there was great love between them and reason not to wait. I admit I was hurt by it, but if he was happier without me I could not stand in his way. I decided that the children and I would need to leave Atlanta and that it would be better if no one knew where we were. We moved to a new state and established a lovely farm here. Shortly after moving here, we met a wonderful man named Ewan. He and I were married in 1875 and we quickly had twin sons. Another son was born two years ago, and our fourth son was born this past May. Life is quite pleasant for us here. If I have regrets, they pale in comparison to what I have now.
The reason I write today is that I've run into someone I knew in Georgia this year and have heard the most curious story. This person tells me that Captain Butler is married to his wife because his wife's father obtained information about Rosemary Butler that Captain Butler could not allow to become public. I had assumed, because of the speed of the divorce and wedding, that it was a love match and that they were unwilling to wait or perhaps even in a fix. Now I've been told that isn't the case after all.
Are the gentlemen of Charleston so lacking in character? I'd always had the city held up to me as the greatest example of gentility and charm. How can that be if the men of your city treat the ladies in such a way? Are you really treated as nothing more than objects to bargain with?
Obviously, this is none of my business anymore, but I confess to being curious as to what could get Captain Butler to marry and keep him married. He wouldn't marry to save his own reputation in his youth, and he didn't stay married to me for love.
There are days when I miss the places and people I knew as a child. I think fondly of my family and hope that you are doing well.
Affectionately,
Katie Scarlett
There were no places listed, and no last name for herself and Ewan, no names for the children. Other than the most recent one, there were no dates. There was a message for all Charleston in the letter, but a very small one for him as well. She'd had her baby in May and all went well. He sighed with relief at that. He resisted the urge to kiss her signature and her affection.
"What is she talking about, Rhett? This story has gotten all around town."
Eulalie Robillard had done her job, if he understood the purpose of the letter. He smirked at the realization that Scarlett had chosen carefully and well. He sighed. "Charles Bell has some pictures. I was told Rosemary was given a great deal of money in order to take care of Father during an illness."
"We'll have to talk to Rosemary about that. In the meanwhile, the information here about Charles Bell has made the rounds. Just today I've heard other rumors that he's practiced extortion on others as well."
"What's the general sense about it?"
"Eulalie was very careful not to mention where she got her information. She only gave me the letter because of you. The people I've spoken to today wanted to know if it was true. I had no idea and said that I couldn't confirm what was going through your mind at that time. But Rhett, if it was true, if Charles Bell had pictures could you answer me two questions?"
"You may ask them."
"Did you ask Rosemary about the pictures?"
He made a face. "How could I ask my baby sister about such pictures? They're… it would be an insult to mention them to a lady."
"You put yourself within the bonds of marriage rather than ask your sister about it? You divorced your wife?"
He looked out the window. "I wasn't thinking terribly clearly in those days."
"And afterwards?"
"I've been more or less drunk since that time until earlier this year."
"I think that leads me to my second question. How did Scarlett get this information?
"I found her, Mother. I've been to see my wife."
"Scarlett?"
"I'd been holding up the sale of our Atlanta house, and she finally sent me her address."
"Where is she?"
Rhett shook his head. "I promised I wouldn't tell anyone where she is. She wants to protect the children."
Elizabeth frowned. "Why is she worried about the children?" It occurred to her. "Are the twins yours?" Rhett took a small wallet-shaped item out of his jacket pocket. It was a folding picture frame. "Rhett! What fine-looking boys!"
"Gerald for her father on the left, and Langston for mine on the right."
"How old are they?"
"They were born in April of 1875."
"You were married in the fall of 1874! How could you divorce Scarlett after being intimate with her?"
"I couldn't let Rosemary down."
"It was foolish, Rhett. You need to divorce Caroline and be a father to those boys."
"I don't know that I can, and it wouldn't matter. Scarlett's husband is a respectable man, much better than me. He's raising Jerry and Bud to be fine young men."
"But Rhett—"
"We'll have to see what Scarlett's letter has done. If her use of rumor and gossip is accurate, if there enough other stories about Charles Bell's habits, perhaps it won't matter if he publishes the photographs, and I could divorce Caroline. In any case, it will allow me more freedom as her husband."
"Those children should be here with their father."
Rhett shook his head. "They're being raised far better where they are than they would be here. Can you imagine any child in Caroline's care? I shudder to think what Charles would do with them."
"Does it not occur to you that I would like to meet my grandsons, my husband's heirs?"
"I was disowned, Mother."
"Your son is named after him."
"Not by me. I would have told her to name him anything but Langston."
"I wasn't thinking very clearly, and I had forgotten that there was bad blood between you and your father," Scarlett said. "When there were suddenly two of them and one was for my father, naming the other for your father seemed obvious."
Perhaps it was the magical quality of the bluebonnet patch, but Rhett shook it off as he put his arm around his wife—and damn anybody who said she wasn't his wife. She was his very own Scarlett when they were here. It was their own world where nothing existed but the two of them.
"It's as good a name as any, especially since you gave him a different nickname. It was his father's name, too."
Scarlett looked up at him. "And you always admired your grandfather."
Rhett resisted the urge, barely, to kiss her. "I take it that Rhett was out of the question."
"God's nightgown! After the year I'd had because of you?"
He kissed her forehead. Then he released her and stepped away. He was closer to kissing her lips more than ever. If that started, he would never stop.
"Rhett!"
He came back to himself, the smile on his face becoming a scowl. "What is it, Mother?"
"They must come to Charleston. They must learn about our ways."
"The boys will never be part of Charleston, Mother. Scarlett—she calls herself Kate, now—and her husband are raising them well where they live. They think he's their father and call me Uncle Rhett, as Scarlett's other children do. It could change, I suppose. They'll learn the truth sometime. They're the image of me, after all. For now Scarlett says, and I agree, they need to stay right where they are."
A/N: "Don't Know Why" might be the title of more than one song. This one was written by Jesse Harris and performed by Nora Jones.
On the other hand, I do know why I love the readers and reviewers of this story. You've all been so very wonderful, including samandfreddie, WhitmanFrostFiend, Romabeachgirl1981, gabyhyatt, Aethelfraed, COCO B, Guest 1 & 2 & 3 & 4 & 5, kanga85, Truckee Gal, Melody-Rose-20, , breakfastattiffanygs, Conlyn70, and beautifulliar326.