A slight holding chapter. One more chapter before we go back to Atlanta and find out about what Wade and Ella and Henry and Eleanor have been doing.

C122 – have tried not to make this saccharine. I too share that concern. I don't want their reconciliation to drift towards everything being sweet and lovey-dovey between them.

This chapter is an attempt to show that they are compromising although there are still issues.

Chapter 44

She arrived back at Wycliffe House at eleven o'clock. Rhett was in the parlour, reading a newspaper. He glanced up as she swept past the doorway, but she kept her eyes focussed ahead and pretended she hadn't caught his eye.

"Scarlett?"

She had just put her foot on the first step of the staircase.

"Yes, darling?" she called out, hoping he could not detect the guilt she felt. Although why she should feel guilty, when he was the one who had been unfaithful, she wasn't entirely sure.

She breathed deeply a couple of times, smoothed imagined creases in her skirt and retraced her steps.

"Where have you been?" he asked as she poked her dark head round the corner of the doors.

"I needed to go to the pharmacy, darling. I wanted to buy a few things ahead of our vacation." She had planned her excuse as she had driven the buggy back from the hotel and the lie slipped off her tongue easily.

"Like what? What did you need to buy?"

"Just things, darling. Female things. This and that."

He raised his eyebrows and she felt her palms go sweaty. For some reason she didn't want to explain that she had felt compelled to visit Hélène, to remind the woman that her husband was married to her. He would either laugh at her and make her feel silly or he would accuse her of not trusting him and she would get angry. And she didn't want to deal with either emotion today.

She glanced out towards the hallway and heard some footsteps on the upper hallway. She should change the topic of conversation. "Have the dress-"

"Where are they?" he asked calmly, staring at her empty hands. She cursed silently. How stupid of her! She hadn't even taken her reticule. "

"What?"

"Your female things?"

"They didn't have what I wanted," she said quickly, averting her eyes from his gaze and back towards the staircase. "Rhett, really. Am I going to get the Spanish inquisition every time I go out? Maybe I wanted to surprise you with something, like you did the other night when you arranged the trip to Europe." She cleared her throat and hoped she sounded authoritative. "Have my…have my dresses arrived?"

She could feel him staring at her and she wondered if he was about to call her out. He had always been able to see through her untruths.

But instead he shook his head and said, "Yes. They're in our bedroom. They will need to be packed. I think Sally is up there now, trying to sort out your luggage."

"I'll go and check up on her then," Scarlett replied, eager to get away from her husband.

"Don't be too long. I've asked your aunts and Uncle Carey for dinner. They'll be arriving in an hour or so."

Scarlett grimaced at the thought of having to spend yet more time with her aunts. She had exhausted all topics of conversation with them after the first visit. All they were really interested in was scrutinising her relationship with her husband.

"Darling, don't look like that. They're your aunts."

She scowled at him. Was he doing this to be mischievous? "Next time, perhaps you could consult me before inviting guests over," she replied tartly.

He sucked in his breath. "Hmmm. I don't recall you ever extending the same courtesy to me, but I'll try to remember your sentiments." He paused as her eyes danced with irritation. "Darling, really! You won't be seeing them again for a good few months."

"Fine Rhett. But I've spent three afternoons with them already which was more than enough. I really don't understand why you have to invite them all around again. I'll go and get changed and check up on Sally and I'll be down in an hour."

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

Scarlett's aunts and uncle arrived, ate dinner and left and then Scarlett spent her last hour at Wycliffe House, finishing her packing, a nervous excitement building inside her. By half past five, she and Rhett were being driven by Clarence to the docks and by six o'clock, they were boarding the ship and being escorted to their cabin by the captain, whom Rhett had known in his youth.

Other than a paddlewheel and a canoe, Scarlett had never been on a boat before and she wasn't entirely sure what to expect. But when the doors to their cabin were opened she gasped. It was almost as large as their honeymoon suite in New Orleans had been. It had a large bedroom with a huge bed in the centre, two separate dressing rooms, a washing area with a roll top bath in it, and a sitting room with a dining area and it was furnished in silks and satins and Louis XIV style furniture and exquisite cushions and paintings.

"From your expression, I take it you approve," Rhett said after the captain had left. He removed his jacket and loosened his cravat as he watched the delight envelop her face.

"Oh Rhett, it's just beautiful! I never imagined that a cabin could be so…so…elegant!" and she flung her arms around him and kissed him.

"I thought we could ask for our supper to be brought here," he whispered as he tightened his hold around her. "After all, this is meant to be like a honeymoon and I would rather spend my time with just you tonight than have to share you with other people."

He started kissing her properly then. Soft, probing kisses that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Somehow, he managed to loosen her dress and then his hands moved underneath her chemise so that they were touching her bare skin. A delicious tingling sensation spread along her spine and down her arms and then her petticoats pooled on the floor as he lifted her out of them.

But just as she tipped her head up to kiss him again, he broke away and walked back to his jacket and fumbled around in the inside pocket. Then, he returned to where she was standing.

"Mrs Butler, I think you forgot this in your hurry to leave our bedroom this morning," he said as he uncurled his palm. Nestled in the bed of his hand was her wedding ring.

She stood still for a moment, trying to read him. His eyes were not mocking her, but flickering with that old intensity that she hoped was love, even if it remained unspoken.

He picked the gold band up in his right hand and placed it on her third finger, left hand. "Do you realise I had to compromise all my principles in order to put this on your finger the first time, Scarlett?" he murmured. "You can only take it off again if you actually go ahead with your threat to divorce me. Or if I die and you marry again or, temporarily if…" His voice trailed off but she finished his third alternative for him silently in her head. "Or if I get pregnant and my fingers swell up. Like they did with Bonnie."

She nodded. "I didn't mean to throw my ring at you. I was being childish."

"Oh, I think you meant it. You were being…dramatic. And on reflection, I can see how I pushed you to the edge. I hadn't wanted you to find out about Hélène and James, certainly not in the way you did." He brushed his lips against hers. "Scarlett, since April, I haven't so much as looked at another woman, much less touched one." He paused as he cupped her face in his hands.

"I know you are taking a risk on…us…again," he continued. "And I am too. But I meant what I said in October. I can't have my heart broken a third time. And if you stop loving me, then you might as well shoot me when you do."

"So…you…believe me? That I love you, Rhett? And not anyone else?"

He nodded slowly. His eyes locked with hers and she stood motionless, waiting for him to tell her that he loved her too. But when he didn't, she whispered. "And I can't have my heart broken either, Rhett."

Then he started kissing her again, leisurely at first and then with increasing intensity whilst she tried to think of what all this meant. He hadn't told her he loved her, but that would come. She was sure of it. She just had to think back over the last few days, and see how far they had come, to know he loved her. She felt his hands move to her bodice and her stays peel away and then he carried her through to the bedroom, his lips barely leaving her own. It was like she was in a dream and in her dreams at least, every kiss, every caress, was him telling her he loved her.

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

After an initial bout of sea sickness when the sea had been choppy, the seas had calmed and Scarlett had enjoyed the crossing. And enjoyed being able to dress up again.

After the first evening, they dined in the main dining room for supper and then danced in the ballroom, often until after midnight. A few times, people had mistaken them for a newly-wed couple, rather than a couple who had just celebrated their seventh wedding anniversary, and welcoming the attention that all newly-weds got, Scarlett did nothing to dispel the false rumour.

When they did venture out of their suite, the other passengers swarmed around them. The men tried to engage Rhett in conversation and then tear Scarlett out of her husband's arms for at least one dance, whilst the women attempted to coax her to play whist or take tea with them in the afternoons. But Scarlett only accepted a quarter of the invitations, for her interest was fixed firmly on her husband. She only wanted to be with him and yearned for the times in the day when he would whisk her back to their suite on some false pretext and take her back to bed – even if it was mid-afternoon. Thank heavens he knew how to lace a woman!

When Scarlett did partake in social discourse, her ears always pricked up when the conversation turned to Paris or London. She mentally noted the best hotels to dine in, the best shops to visit, the best parks to walk through, forgetting that her husband had visited both cities on many occasions, and most recently, less than a year ago.

"And you must try and take in a concert at the Royal Albert Hall," she was told by one lady, who was apparently a distant cousin of the beautiful, Danish Princess of Wales. "It is one of the most elegant buildings in London, as you would expect for our Queen's consort. Although the acoustics aren't quite what they had expected – there is a dreadful echo. The joke is that at least a composer gets to hear his own work twice."

Scarlett loved hearing about the royal family too and thought the tragic story of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert one of the most romantic she had ever heard. "Imagine wearing black for over twelve years! How dull!"

Rhett had laughed. "Maybe that's what true love is all about, darling. Wouldn't you wear black for me for the rest of your life?"

"Fiddle-dee-dee. You've got to be joking!" Scarlett had replied. "I'm not sure you even deserve a year of black. Besides, weren't you telling me only the other day that it is ridiculous that people can't wear what they want in their own home?"

The only topic of conversation that Rhett steadfastly steered away from was the topic of children. On more than one occasion, they were asked how many children they had and Scarlett noticed how quiet Rhett became. Two now, she would answer carefully, her eyes on her husband, but our youngest child died a year ago. And then the thoughtless passenger would comment that surely more would come and Scarlett would watch as Rhett remained mute and grimaced.

Children! Another child! How she longed to be pregnant again! It would seal the relationship, and, in her mind, make it impossible for Rhett to leave her again. But, apart from the first night of their reconciliation, when everything had happened too quickly, Rhett had, for the first time in their relationship, started wearing prophylactics when they made love. She had heard whispers about these a long time ago, when she had hosted her whist evenings with Mamie Bart and Sylvia Connington, but, too embarrassed to ask exactly what they were, her knowledge of them was scarce and ill-informed. And then, last year, she remembered overhearing a conversation about the Comstock laws coming into effect, banning such things (although she wasn't entirely sure what they were banning).

She tried to bring the subject up a couple of times over supper but Rhett had merely batted it away and told her that he would rather have fun with her, than have to worry about the possibility of having another child. And weren't Ella and Wade enough?

His comments had troubled her but his complete aversion to discussing it, had troubled her even more. Yes, she was having fun, and she had never thought that sharing a bed with a man could be quite so much fun, but she wanted another child, his child. Was this the new life he wanted, a childless life, or at least a life only with Wade and Ella, who were growing up fast and would likely both be married in ten years' time or even less? Was it because of the death of both Bonnie and James that had made him like this? Or was it because he was still uncertain about her, wanted to be free to leave her again? It made no sense. Rhett Butler was crazy about children, so why the reluctance to have a baby with her?

As the days went by, she thought about it more and more. She needed to be patient she decided. He would either change his mind or he would slip up. He would get carried away in the heat of the moment and she certainly wouldn't remind him. They had only been reconciled for a couple of weeks, she reminded herself. And if he was still resisting the idea when they returned to Atlanta, she would take matters into her own hands.

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

Six nights after they set sail from Charleston, they arrived in Southampton, on the South coast of England and journeyed up to London by train where they settled in the bridal suite at the Grosvenor Hotel in Victoria, with views towards Buckingham Palace.

Despite the smog, Scarlett adored the hustle and bustle of London and every morning, after a walk in St James' Park amongst the pelicans and squirrels, she would insist that Rhett accompany her along Piccadilly, Regent Street or Oxford Street so that she could jot down ideas for her own store. She fell in love with Fortnum and Mason, even more so when she heard it provided food to the royal household and wondered if a similar, large shop selling clothes, household goods and food with a restaurant attached, might succeed in Atlanta.

"What do you think, Rhett?" she had asked when they were sitting eating breakfast one morning. "I could buy the old plot that is on the corner of Eighth and Marietta. That would be big enough."

Rhett was reading a newspaper but he put it down and looked at his wife. "Isn't Kennedy's enough? If you took on something of a scale similar to Fortnum and Mason, you wouldn't have any free time."

"Yes I would, Rhett," she replied. "I would employ-"

"Yes, yes. I know," he said dismissively. "You would employ staff. Engage a manager. But you would oversee it." He moved his coffee cup and leaned across the table towards her. "There wouldn't be time for all those charitable things you enjoy doing so much," he said raising his eyebrows, "And you would have even less time to spend with Wade and Ella…and me." She glanced up at him.

"Rhett, you-"

"And in any event, darling, why do you need to do something else? Why do you want to add to your workload? You're already one of the most successful businesswomen in Atlanta-"

"But think of the money a shop like that would bring in!"

"Bigger isn't always better, honey. And, unless you have forgotten, there is a recession going on at the moment." He placed his napkin down on the table and took his wife's hand. "And we don't need the money. Honestly darling, if neither of us did another day's work again in our lives, we would still die with plenty left in the bank."

"But it's your money, Rhett. Not mine."

"It's ours, Scarlett."

"Is it? What happens if you leave me again?" she said softly and then immediately wished she could recant. She hadn't meant to voice her insecurity but it was always there, bubbling underneath the surface, despite the daily love-making, the presents, the constant whisper of sweet-nothings.

His dark eyes settled on her for a few moments and then he sighed. She suddenly felt nervous as though she had irritated him and unsettled the happy mood.

"I mean, Rhett," she stumbled, trying to steer the conversation away from talk of leaving her. "How do I know that you have all this money? I don't even know what you do!"

"You don't know what I do, Scarlett, because you've never asked me," he replied quietly. Her eyes shot up to his face. What he said was true. She had never asked him, but that wasn't because she had been indifferent. It was because she had always felt that he hadn't wanted to tell her. It was his way of keeping something back from her, his way of keeping his independence.

"I know Rhett and I want to change that. I want to know how you fill your day, what you do, what you own. You know everything about me but I don't really know much about you. I learnt more from your mother during the week she stayed with me in Atlanta than I did in six years of living with you! I don't want any more surprises like Hélène or to find out that you own a house that you have never told me about. I want to know how you make your money and how much money you have. I have no idea!"

He smiled. "Money. It always comes down to money with you."

She felt stung by his words. "No…I…what I mean is that I want to know what you do during the day to make your money. When we…lived together before, you would just disappear and I would never know where you were, what you were doing, who you were seeing. I know money doesn't grow on trees but you never shared with me how you invested your money or how much you really had."

"Most wives don't need to know how much their husband is worth so long as the bills are paid."

"I'm not most wives though, Rhett."

"Alright Scarlett. Ask any question you want to know the answer to and I will try my best to reply."

And so she did. And through his answers she found out that he owned half of one of the banks in Atlanta, saloons in New Orleans, Macon, Baton Rouge and Texas, had invested in a medical company in Hull, England, a horse farm in Ireland, a vineyard in France. And that if he liquidated it all, he probably had thirty million dollars. Scarlett's jaw fell wide open – it was more money that she had ever envisaged, thirty times more money than she had thought he had. She had had no idea that her husband was worth that much.

Scarlett, having migrated to her husband's lap, was resting her head pensively on his chest. "Rhett, if you have all these businesses and all this money then...well, I've been thinking. If you are going to come and live in Atlanta again, with me, I want you to sell Belle Watling's establishment. You obviously don't need the income." She swallowed a couple of times, and tried to continue but her mouth had gone all dry.

"Is that what you want me to do?"

"Yes," she answered nervously. "I want…I want…to….know that your ties to that woman are severed. I don't want to have to deal with the gossip and…" she stalled again.

She felt his body stiffen. If he was angry with her for bringing up the name of his mistress then so be it. Just like her, he too had to compromise, if this new relationship between them was going to work. She slowly lifted her head up and looked at him but he didn't seem annoyed. He seemed contemplative.

Finally, he reached down and ran his lips through her hair. "That's a fair request, Scarlett. But I'd like to give the house to Belle rather than sell it to her or anyone else. She's been a good friend to me over the years."

A good friend? Scarlett breathed in sharply. She might have been a friend to her husband, but she had been her foe. What had she really said to Rhett over the years about her? She had sometimes wondered whether the barbs that her husband had thrown at her over the years, might first have come from her mouth. Had she planted the seed in his mind to leave her in October? And if she hadn't made it so easy for him to find another warm bed all those years ago, might he have fought for her earlier, made her see sense about her ridiculous demand for separate bedrooms? And now Rhett wanted to give her the title deeds to her house of ill-repute! Hadn't that woman had enough patronage from him over the years, without this latest benevolence? But Scarlett bit her lip and swallowed her rebuttal. If Rhett no longer had ties to that woman – financial or otherwise – that would be good enough for her.

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

After a week in London, they took a boat from Dover to Calais, arriving in Paris by nightfall. Rhett had booked a suite at the Grand Hotel du Louvre, which Scarlett was delighted to find was next door to Galeries du Louvre, a fashionable new department store. The hotel also had interpreters who seemed to fall over themselves to assist the charming Mrs Butler.

She found she loved Paris more than London. It was cleaner, less chaotic and not swathed in dull grey skies. As in London, Rhett knew the city inside out. He knew exactly where to take her shopping, how to skip the queues at art galleries and river cruises and even managed to obtain a four hour appointment for Scarlett at the House of Worth, no mean feat considering that even the titled gentry had been known to have been turned away.

Scarlett was having fun – as much fun as she had had during her original honeymoon but she was also learning what interested her husband and gave him pleasure. She had never realised before how much he enjoyed art, and even though she would rather have shopped, she diligently and willingly accompanied him to the galleries and art studios and tried really hard to appreciate the architecture that he pointed out and marvelled at.

Rhett, for his part, was as attentive as she had ever remembered him being. Every morning, she awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastries and the sound of birds chirping on the window-sill. Rhett was always up and dressed by the time she stirred. Sometimes he would bring breakfast to the bed and eat with her; other times he would be hustling her to get ready as he had made plans for them.

"I've never known you to sleep so late, Scarlett," he teased when she awoke one morning past ten o'clock.

"That's because you keep me awake so late, Rhett," she replied. He smiled at her, his black eyes twinkling and then, as though he was acknowledging her point, he climbed back onto the bed, pushed her back down and started kissing her which culminated in them missing the appointment Rhett had arranged at Edouard Manet's art studio.

But it wasn't just her husband's seemingly endless capacity for lovemaking that made her sleep in so late, it was his very presence. She no longer awoke in the middle of the night, fretful and anxious. She no longer tossed and turned for hours on end, in the vain hope that she might fall asleep again. She felt at peace – in a way that she hadn't felt since the earliest days of their marriage, when she had trusted that Rhett would take care of her and she no longer had to worry about going hungry or keeping a roof over her family's head. She felt rested, fresh and younger than she had in years and she knew a large part of her reinvigoration was due to her husband.

On their last night in Paris, Rhett had decided to take Scarlett to the new Palais Garnier, to see Rigoletto. Scarlett had only ever been to one opera in her life before and the experience had bored her to tears. She would have far preferred to have gone to one of the can-can shows he had already taken her to but she swallowed her disappointment and got ready for the evening, her husband reassuring her that she would enjoy the romantic tragedy of the piece, even if she didn't much care for the music.

"You look beautiful darling," he said as she dismissed the maid and entered the sitting room where he was sitting smoking a cigar. She was wearing her new burgundy gown with onyx sewn into the bodice. She felt his eyes sweep over her critically and then he said, "You're missing something."

She looked down at her dress. "Missing something? But I thought you didn't like excessive frills or-"

"Not on the gown. Around your neck. And those ear bobs. Pearls with onyx? It doesn't work, Scarlett. Not with that bodice."

"All my jewellery is back in Atlanta, Rhett," she said defensively. "How was I to know that I would end up in Europe? I don't have anything else." Which was true. She had rushed to Charleston so quickly that she had had no time to think much beyond her travelling attire and her mourning dresses.

"I know darling," he said simply. "And that's why I bought this for you." From behind his back, he handed her an elegant square wooden box. She took it from him and opened it. Inside was a strand of onyx beads with a large onyx drop and matching earbobs. It wasn't wholly dissimilar to the set she had once owned except her own set had not had the drop onyx and she was sure that there had only been five onyx stones on each ear bob, not six.

"I know you…er…have something similar at home, but I saw this in a jewellery shop the other morning and it wasn't overly expensive. You can give it to Ella when she's older." Scarlett nodded, thrilled that she finally had some jewellery to wear again. Rhett put the strand of black stones round her neck and then she put on the matching earbobs. Oh, how she missed her jewellery!

He was watching her curiously, as though he was waiting for her to say something. She wondered briefly if she should come clean and tell him that she no longer had her original set of onyx but she didn't want to ruin the moment. And she didn't really have time to explain. They had to leave in five minutes. So instead she stood on her toes and kissed him.

"You are good to me, darling. But, I don't want you to think that you have to buy me again. You know…you know you don't have to do that. You know how I feel about you."

His eyes suddenly focussed on her own emerald orbs, in that way of his that made her feel as though he was trying to bore into her soul.

"How do you feel about me, Scarlett?" he murmured.

She looked quizzically at him.

"Haven't I shown you, Rhett and told you?" she replied awkwardly.

"Tell me again," he commanded.

She took a deep breath. He still hadn't told her he loved her, but he wanted to hear her repeat her own proclamation? She hadn't wanted to say those three precious words until he had said them to her, but he had already made her say them once. I love you like I have never loved anyone before. I love you in a way I never thought possible to love someone. I love you so much that I can't bear it when you aren't close to me. And I know that if you decide this reconciliation isn't working, and you walk away again, you will destroy me. She wanted to say all of that but she needed something from him too.

But she didn't say any of that. That could wait, if it was to be said at all.

"I feel like a woman should feel about her husband, Rhett," she replied saucily and then, without looking at him, she put on her gloves and linked her arm through his. "Ready?"

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

A/N Worth was the first haute couture house. He was actually an Englishman who decamped to Paris. Took a few liberties on the some of the details here – Palais Garnier opened in 1875 – we are only in September 1874.

Agnes – thank you for reminding me about the wedding ring. Ondine – remembered your advice that when you can't link a passage – just put a break in.

Struggling to finish this so thanks for your reviews – authors out there know how much reviews spur you on!

PS Thanks to Ondine for giving me the inflated figure for the money - $200m is a lot but I wanted him to have more than that - so I have made him have $30m (which equates to about $600 m in today's currency). Of course, I have no real idea how rich Rhett was. Just my guess.