'How are you feeling, honey?'

Scarlett stared at him, momentarily unable to speak.

'Please Scarlett, talk to me, you look as white as a sheet. Maybe you should lay down upstairs?'

'No, no, I'm fine. I mean, we should head back. The funeral is still in progression.'

'If you are up to it…' he said hesitantly.

'I am, Rhett, don't worry.'

'Sorry if I shocked you by turning up like that, I had hoped to be home before the funeral but I had some setbacks on the way; the road near Augusta had been flooded, so I had to take a detour.'

Scarlett wondered how he had found out about Gerald's passing in the first place. Her family had insisted that she'd wire him but she knew he could never make it home in time and besides, she wanted him to come home on his own accord, not because she forced him into returning. She impatiently waited for the funeral proceedings to finish; her little illness had set the tongues wagging enough to make them forget about Suellen's faux-pas for the moment. Most of them had not seen Rhett Butler since the day of the Twelve Oaks barbecue so seeing Scarlett's ill-reputed new husband in the flesh again was another reason to forgo a public attack on Scarlett's sister. Rhett stayed by Scarlett's side, his hand resting on the small of her back, giving her some comfort.

From the corner of her eye she observed the unknown woman that Rhett had brought home with him. He had failed to introduce her - probably deciding that this was neither the time nor place for it - but that did not mean that Scarlett was not dying with curiosity. She saw the woman nod at somebody across Gerald's grave but Scarlett could not identify who it was since the largest group of people was assembled on that side.

Rhett seemed to have forgotten about the woman altogether; Scarlett could feel that his focus was completely on her now and so she let go of her initial reservations towards the strange woman; whatever reasons Rhett had to bring her with him she was certain they had nothing to do with the ludicrous ideas that had filled her mind at first.

Will had acted like the head of the household during the first part of the funeral but by the time the party was ready to move indoors for some refreshments he had taken a figurative step backwards to let Rhett lead the crowd towards the parlour. While the guests helped themselves to the sober buffet that Mammy had prepared, Rhett took Will into a corner and let his future brother-in-law inform him about all the going-ons at Tara during his absence. Scarlett saw him glance at Suellen and she wondered what was going through his mind. Surely Rhett would not disapprove of her ploy; a former blockader could hardly begrudge the actions of another opportunist. However, when she saw Rhett stare at her immediately after she understood that he did hold Suellen accountable for the misery that had befallen his wife. She wondered what Rhett made of Will's noble plan to make Suellen his wife and thus shield her from the neighbours' wrath but she had no opportunity to find that out since Rhett acted like the perfect host by giving every single one of the mourners a fair amount of attention which left Scarlett sitting idly in a corner. .

Scarlett could see people's initial reservations disappear when they were exposed to his charm and she smiled, recalling how he had work just as diligently on restoring the relationships with the old guard at the beginning of the war. She wondered how long he would be able to keep the pretence going this time. While some of the people here today might be to his liking she was certain that he would not have patience to deal with them in the long run. And this led her to wonder if Rhett would be happy living here or even in Atlanta amongst the kind of people that he only felt contempt for in the past. Could she ask a man like him to settle down? To stay in one place at a time, join meetings that were similar to the female sewing-circles and discuss politics and such things without offending the other members with his views? Scarlett sighed and decided to not worry about that now. They would not be staying at Tara for long and once they returned from London they still had plenty of time to decide if Atlanta would be their home base.

Most of her neighbours had come by to whisper their condolences but none had sat down next to her to engage her in a long chat; they probably were afraid she felt too frail for it. This might have stung her pride at other times but today she was grateful that Rhett – and Will to some extend – were taking care of the socializing that such an occasion demanded. She searched the room and found the woman that she was looking for. She was involved in what seemed a heated discussion with Viola and seeing the two of them together made her realise instantly that they were related: after her many pleas to Guillaume Beaulieu he must have decided to send his wife to collect their daughter.

'Good riddance,' Scarlett murmured to herself and was startled when her husband suddenly appeared by her side asking her why she was talking to herself.

'None of your concern, Rhett Butler,' she said, giving him a small smile. Rhett's eyes became dark with concern.

'Scarlett, I really do think you should lie down,' he said, low enough not to be overheard by any of the guests, knowing full well how much his wife hated a display of pity in public. 'The last few days must have been hell for you. Leave it up to me to take care of our guests; I am sure they will understand how tough a day like today is for you.'

She stared into his eyes, so full of warmth and tenderness now that it made her wonder how she could have ever believed this man to be an uncaring wretch of a man. She felt a strong need to protest; to show to him that she was perfectly capable of handling even this most horrid of events but his stare implored her to rethink that viewpoint and in the end she agreed to retreat to her mother's office and lie down on the old chaise-longue that it contained with the stipulation that Rhett would send over any of the neighbours that needed to talk to her. Rhett instructed Prissy to bring his wife a jug of ice tea and then he helped her get comfortable, promising her that if anybody was looking for her he would send them over.

After getting rid of Prissy – who was still fearful of Captain Butler and therefore rather fidgety that Miss Scarlett should have all she needed – Scarlett soon dozed off into some light sleep. She woke up when she heard the light clacking of some high-heeled slippers and she sat up quickly when the door of the office opened wider. She was surprised to see the unfamiliar woman – Viola's mother apparently – enter her room.

'Sorry to intrude on you like this, Mrs. Butler, but your husband told me I could find you here and I had not had an opportunity to pay you my respects. I am very sorry for your loss; I only met your father once but he seemed like a good man. I am sure he will be sorely missed by you and your sisters.'

'Thank you,' Scarlett murmured, wondering what she and the rest of the Robbillard clan had really thought about the unlikely match her mother had made with the stout little Irishman.

'I am forgetting myself, Mrs. Butler, I just realised we have not even been properly introduced: I am Marie-Louise Beaulieu, Viola's mother. I hope my daughter has not been too much of a burden to you and your family; I have been in Europe these last few months; my sister who lives in Paris lost her husband recently and I wanted to help her get through the first few months.' Then she smiled and bent closer to Scarlett in a conspiring manner. 'Well, to be honest; I was happy to escape Savannah for the time being; life has changed so much after the war, I am afraid I am not nearly as brave as you are Mrs. Butler.'

'Brave?' Scarlett said.

'Yes, brave. Your husband told me just what you did for your family after the war; I am afraid I would have been rather hopeless in your position. Not many women could have done what you did.'

Scarlett had a sudden image of Rhett telling this woman of the tale that included her green curtain dress but she soon reasoned with herself that he would never betray her trust like that; he probably had only discussed the fact that she got Tara back up and running after the Yankee invasion.

Marie-Louise smiled broadly. 'He is very proud of you, you know. I have to say I was rather surprised; your husband is a bit notorious in Savannah and I had some misgivings travelling with him without a chaperone but he was quite the gentleman; moreover, he could not stop talking about you. I had the distinct impression he missed you terribly.'

Scarlett blushed. Then she asked Marie-Louise why she had come to collect their daughter – assuming that is what she had come to do – instead of her husband that had been willing enough to drop her at Tara in the first place.

Marie-Louise sighed deeply.

'First of all; your husband kind of forced my hand, he came by our house and there was no way he would leave before one of us agreed to accompany him back to Clayton County. I am sure you are aware of this but your husband does not easily take no for an answer.'

Scarlett grinned and Marie-Louise's face also burst into a wide smile.

'I am afraid my husband became rather desperate in my absence; Viola has always been a wilful child but since she has matured into a young woman she has become increasingly difficult to handle. Let's say that my husband stumbled upon some facts that made him take drastic measures. I am just sorry that you and your family got involved in it all.'

Scarlett lifted her eyebrows and had to make an effort not to ask Marie-Louise just what exactly those facts were; she always suspected that Viola got into some trouble that involved one of two young men and she would have loved to hear the finer details. However, apparently Rhett had done his best to remove the little pest that Viola was from Tara and so Scarlett did not want to do or say anything to jeopardize that.

'You are a lot like her, you know,' Marie-Louise said suddenly and for a moment Scarlett was confused but then she saw Marie-Louise stare at the painting of grandma Robbillard which had been moved to the study during Scarlett's absence from Tara.

'Not so much that you resemble her; you do, but then most Robbillard women do, even my own Viola. No, you have got that silent force inside you, the same silent force that she seemed to possess. I was still very young when I knew her but she was somebody that you could not ignore, no matter how much you wanted to. I was quite scared of her at the time. But at the same time she was a very intriguing person. You see: people told lots of romantic stories about her and she was the only woman that managed to tame your grandpa Robbillard.' When she saw Scarlett lift one eyebrow quizzically she hastened to explain herself.

'Oh, I know he is a difficult man now in his old days, but I heard he was quite dashing when he was a young man. In fact, most women in Savannah had their eyes on him but he never seemed to be the marrying type, until he met your grandmother that is. Already a widow twice over she was nothing like the matrons you see these days. She was still very much a woman in every sense of the word and your grandfather did not rest until he made her his. It was quite a stormy marriage apparently but when she died part of him died with her; he never quite regained his old self. It is such a tragically romantic story,' Marie-Louise sighed before she seemed to recall something and frowned deeply.

'Weren't you a widow too before you met your own husband?' Scarlett had been so engrossed in Marie-Louise's story that she felt a bit taken aback by the other woman's invasive question.

'Yes, I was. Though I was not married to my first husband for very long. He died in the war, a few weeks after we got married.

'So that means that he never got to know his son?' At Scarlett's blank look she explained that Rhett had also divulged some information about his stepson.

Scarlett felt comfortable enough with Marie-Louise to discuss the times when she was widowed and while she was chatting away she wondered how it was possible that she could get along with Viola's mother so well when she felt so much dislike for the young girl. Even the fact that this woman travelled with Rhett for a fairly long distance did not upset her any longer; she felt quite secure of her husband now and Marie-Louise never showed anything but friendly interest in Rhett.

It was Marie-Lousie that proved to be an avenging angel when Hetty Tarleton and her mother came looking for Scarlett, ready to express her discontent over Suellen's recent behaviour. She had no idea what the kind woman said to Mrs. Tarleton – they spoke in soft muffled voices – but it was enough to make them leave Scarlett be after a short greeting. Marie-Louise left soon after and Scarlett's attention was once more drawn towards the painting of the grandmother she never met.

Was there some truth in Marie-Louise's words? Was she like her grandmother? Did she resemble her more than she ever resembled her own mother? Was that part of the reason that she had such a hard time following in her mother's immaculate footsteps? She studied the woman whose image the painter had captured so well. The sultry mouth, the brilliant eyes that expressed unmistaken confidence – disdain almost – and the way she carried herself; there was no doubt in Scarlett's mind that Solange Robillard knew just what kind of effect she had on people – men in particular. Yes, in that aspect she was very similar to her grandmother. She had no idea what her mother had been like in her adolescent years but she could not picture Ellen O'Hara as flirtatious no matter how hard she tried. Scarlett kept staring at the portrait of her Grandmother Robillard. The painter had translated more than just her undeniable beauty; the portrait held an erotic undercurrent that Scarlett had never noticed prior to her marriage to Rhett and that she found a bit unsettling. Had Solange and the painter been more than acquaintances? Or was it her grandfather that had commissioned the portrait and had given the artist that particular assignment? She regretted never asking her mother about the painting. As a young girl she had only viewed it as the painting of a beautiful, if somewhat indecent woman. Though she had always felt drawn to it and now that she thought about it, she had probably tried to copy her grandmother's airs on more than one occasion.

That brought her thoughts around to her grandfather; a bitter old man if ever she had seen one. Though his noble breeding still showed in his features she had a hard time picturing him as a dashing young man. A man that had once been as dashing and elusive as Rhett. So Solange had managed to capture his heart? She, a widow twice over, with a reputation that even for those days must have been somewhat shocking. Her grandfather, a man of good standing and handsome to boot, had decided that she was the woman for him, while Scarlett would have thought that such a man could have easily picked the most beautiful belle in his circle. But somehow it was Solange – a woman that had already been married twice and refused to act accordingly – that had made him give up on his bachelor status. She thought of Rhett and his own relentless – and disguised – ways to make her his own and she laughed loudly.

Scarlett had a feeling that her grandmother had been a more worthy opponent to her grandfather than she had ever been to Rhett. She was fairly certain that her grandmother had been far less clueless when it came to Pierre's intentions and she would have loved to be able to talk to her and ask her just how hard she had made him work for it. The next time she was with her grandfather she would see him in a different light. If he had loved Solange with the same passion as Rhett loved her she could understand better how he had been overcome with bitterness when he lost his wife. She recalled the last weeks that she had to live without her husband's love and support and realised that she had not been the most pleasant person to be around. Had their separation affected Rhett's mood at all? He did not appear to have been troubled too much, he looked as carefree as ever, but then Marie-Louise had told her that he had been uncharacteristically open about his life. Should she take that as a sign that their separation had been a torment on him too?

'How are you feeling now, Scarlett?'

She had not heard him approaching and so she was a bit startled when his presence suddenly filled the tiny study.

'I am alright, Rhett. Maybe I should go back inside and mingle with our guests a bit?'

'Will is just saying goodbye to the last ones so there is no need. I am sure they will come and visit you over the coming week, so you will have enough time to talk to them then. For now I would like you to retire to bed for a while. I will have Mammy bring you up a light supper later on but I think you could do with some rest. Suellen en Careen are resting already and Will thinks…'

'Don't you ever compare me to my sisters, Rhett Butler! We might share the same blood but I certainly don't share their spirit.' She swung her legs on the floor and stood up, her brow furrowed.

Rhett's mouth went up in one corner and he calmly approached her – his eyes twinkling with what could have been irritation or amusement, Scarlett could not tell. He laid his two big hands on her shoulders and spoke very quietly.

'I know you are in a league of your own, Scarlett. I am your husband and if anyone, I should know, shouldn't I?' He smiled and she could not help but smile back.

'However, as your husband I also know that you need somebody to look out for you too from time to time and since that is my duty…' Before Scarlett realised what he was doing he put an arm under her knees and lifted her up with as much ease as someone else carried a small child. Under Scarlett's loud protest he carried her up to their room and when he placed her on the bed he started undoing the ties of her black little boots.

'I thought as much,' he murmured when he witnessed the ankle that she had hurt on their last day together. Scarlett glanced over to see what he was talking about and her nose twitched when she noticed how one of her fine-boned ankles appeared to be swollen and red. Of course she knew it had not fully healed; every step she took was accompanied by a nagging pain but she had to get on with things, the last week especially with a funeral to prepare. Besides, she had to make do without a wall-sized mirror these days – she blushed when she recalled the reason why – so she had not really taken time to study her appearance. She still loved to have another man's eyes showing appreciation or receiving veiled compliments from her neighbours, but somehow this all did not matter as much to her as it did before she became aware of her husband's adoration for her. Now, with him murmuring disapproval over her swollen ankle, she felt annoyed that he should concentrate on that, now ugly, part of her body.

'I thought I told you to take it easy with that foot, Scarlett?' he said.

'Well, maybe I would have, Rhett, if you had been around to help me. I could hardly let my sisters arrange my father's funeral, could I? You know they would have made a mess of things and…'

'I am sorry, Scarlett, 'he then whispered while he put a finger on her mouth to silence her. 'I am sorry that I was not here when Gerald… When you lost your father.'

Scarlett looked at him. His dark eyes were loving and apologetic and somehow that look went straight to her heart. Her ire quickly turned into sorrow and she bit her lip in an effort not to display the emotions that suddenly overwhelmed her.

'It seems that now that we have finally found each other someone up there decided it was time to let go of other people,' he said quietly while one of his fingers brushed her cheek.

Scarlett's eyes were stinging and it took so much effort to suppress the urge to cry that she did not get the full meaning of his words at first.

'Oh Rhett? You lost your own father too?' she finally gasped.

'Well, it is hardly the drama that losing Gerald is for you, but yes, the old man now will have to reckon with his maker.'

'I am sorry, Rhett. If not for you than for your mother and sister.'

'Well, yes, I suppose you are. Though they are better off now; not only was he a difficult person to live with, this will grant them access to things they did not have before he passed away.' His face grew solemn for a moment before it cleared up just as suddenly.

'So, tell me, honey. Could it be that you were lashing out on me before because you missed me?'

'I was not lashing out!'

'Oh, yes, you were. And believe me, I do understand. I wish myself I had been here for you this past week but as soon as Carreen wired me, I…'

'Carreen!' Scarlett cried, surprise and irritation lacing her tone.

Rhett lifted one of his ink black eyebrows.

'Surely you don't mind… I am your husband after all, Scarlett.'

'Yes, well…'

'I cannot be there for you if you don't let me know what is going on, my pet. I am not a mind-reader, contrary what you seem to believe my powers do not reach that far.'

He smiled but she did not smile along with him.

'Well, maybe you should not have gone on your own in the first place.'

'Scarlett, we have been through that already…' he sighed.

'Yes, well, I did not have time to miss you anyway with the farm so busy and all,' Scarlett said lightly while she unconsciously lifted her chin stubbornly.

Rhett did not say anything; he just lifted one eyebrow while he tried to suppress a smile.

'Though I have to admit that I could have done with your help this last week. Will was very helpful indeed but he hardly knows the traditions we have for a funeral and…'

Suddenly her voice broke and a sob that came from deep within burst to the surface. All the dread and loneliness of the past week suddenly reached the hard exterior that she had presented to the world these last few days and she bowed her head while she hugged her bosom trying to keep the pain inside. But it was no use and when Rhett silently pulled her against his chest she let go of her last reserve and she cried all the tears she had been holding in. Apart from a few muffled words of comfort Rhett did not speak; he just held her, occasionally brushing the hair out of her face.

When she finally returned to herself again she noticed to her horror that her tears had left a big wet spot at the front of Rhett's shirt and she did not dare look at him at first, ashamed of her own weakness. He ignored her embarrassment and lifted her chin to place a soft kiss on her lips before he silently lifted her to her feet and started undoing her clothes. Shakenly Scarlett stood on her feet while she let Rhett dress her in her nightgown as if she was a small child that needed its mother's help. With equal gentleness he placed her under the covers. He came to sit by her side, took her hand and stared at her for a moment before he finally spoke. His voice sounded hoarse when he promised her that he would be there for her from now on. That his absence during her father's passing had been an ill twist of fate that he did not care to repeat. Scarlett did not say anything but she just smiled faintly at him, praying that life would not make a liar out of him. Before he left her alone to let her get some rest he retrieved the little bracelet his mother had given him from his pocket.

'I know it is not to your taste or even a fine piece of jewellery at that, Scarlett, but my mother asked me to give you this as a token of her love for you. Or rather as a sign of gratitude for loving that wretch that is her son,' he grinned.

Scarlett studied the little armband; it was certainly not something she would have picked herself but she did value what it signified; she wished she could tell Eleanor Butler that it was she that had to be grateful. Grateful to the old Mrs. Butler for raising a man that seemed to match her so perfectly that she loved him more than words – or gifts – could ever express.

She tried to express her gratitude but Rhett had already noticed how much she was moved by the gesture and so he only nodded before he got up finally. Scarlett was absolutely puzzled when he let his big hand rest on her stomach for a moment before he whispered that she could pass the bracelet on to their daughter one day.

He had already left the room before she felt able to reply. So she just shook her head, wondering why he had said something so strange before she sank her head into the pillow and drifted into a calming sleep.

A/N: Bit thick that Scarlett sometimes, isn't she? ;-) Thanks for reading & reviewing.