Individual Comments Back:
Ninigi: Lol. Do note that all of the changes that Scarlett did with her behavior were HER decisions. The church was Rhett telling her that she had to do something. I feel like Church would additionally bother Scarlett more because it would likely remind her of her family and all the suffering that she and those around her endured. She was the one who pulled her people through. Um mostly though bc Rhett told her to do it. PS- Lol. I don't need reviews from you. Just type your name once a week, so I don't worry. Um I make my friends do similar things in RL.
Klenk Eniko: Lol. Come on they just did all that work and emotionally matured in my last fic. You expect it from two?
Church (Guest Comment): Chapter 52, Rhett starts to donate and attend the Episcopalian Church with Wade as part of his repairing his reputation.
Kimsan (Mills/Kennedy's Topic): Remember that this fic is my attempt at keeping with the feel of the end of the book. In the book she does agree to sell the mills impulsively, but with some satisfaction, it is closing a chapter of her life. During the house being built prior, it is noted that she practically ignored the mills and store. Scarlett has a very different feel towards the end of the end of the book, which is always the tone, feel and attitude I said this piece would have (Lol. 8.79% of the novel). I don't want to say Nicky is like the house, but…Well he's her project. He is what she is devoting herself to. He is the key to what she wants. Also, in a not entirely Scarlett area, but general women. I have personally had many friends that you never expect to see that drastic change in priorities, have that drastic change. I mean we saw it with Rhett and Wade when he realized his stepson was only invited to the parties of Carpetbagger children. Scarlett is not looking for independence in that 8.79% of the book. Lol. Letting Rhett take over the mills/store is not softening her towards him when he loved her fire from day 1 (that is actually in the next chapter).
AN (General):
Gems/fabrics/lace: Yes that is most definitely not enough to undo the damage in their relationship (it is not meant to be), lol, but can you imagine the damage if he didn't bring them?
Bonnie: She gets her way still. The character is not changing from the one in the novel. Both parents eventually always give in to what she wants.
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Part Eleven
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He noticed his wife was barely drinking. The decanter of brandy never decreasing through the day and was often at the same height from one night to the next. She would have a glass or two of wine with her meals, but it didn't seem to be much more than that.
He found himself studying it.
Leaning in a bit closer to her than he normally would to see if there was brandy on her breath. Perhaps she had only been hiding a bottle in her room, but there never was.
He had assumed it had been related only to her pregnancy for she had blanched once at the mention of it while carrying Nicky.
Now though, she didn't seem to need it.
She didn't need to dull her life, to dull the memories of the harsh times she had lived through.
She almost seemed to want to be fully present in her life.
She was nearly never without Nicky. Rhett could never find a few minutes alone with his son. If he wanted to spend time with Nicholas, he had to interact with Nicholas' mother as well.
He wondered if this was it. If she had finally started to turn the corner of the life she had led.
She had given up the mills and therefore her nearly daily interaction with Ashley.
She had returned to playing nice with the Old Guard as best as Scarlett ever could.
She had not returned to her old ways with the children.
Rhett had even caught Wade and Beau running down a hallway.
Rhett recognized that he should be happy. A life without her mind, heart or body. But a life with a dutiful wife and mother. He had wanted more, much more, but really that wasn't anything to reject. She had given him two perfect children to love. To love and be loved by since their mother had no interest in that with him.
Her children, their children would love him. That would have to be enough.
He would play her polite game. Playing house instead of actually being a family.
It would be enough, it would have to be.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Mid-February 1872
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"Mrs. Sexton tells me that her boys are riding at a stable just outside of town," Scarlett said looking at Wade as they were seated for their evening meal.
Rhett looked at his stepson, who no longer flinched or hesitated when being addressed by his mother.
"I believe they ride twice a week," Wade supplied not sure what his mother expected from him.
"Is that something you would like to do?"
"Ride a horse and not a pony?"
"Yes, Wade, you can ride a horse and not a pony. You're ten or at least according to Mrs. Sexton you're old enough to be riding a horse," Scarlett half-rolled her eyes.
Rhett bit back a laugh.
"I don't suppose I would mind learning to ride a horse."
She imagined her son would have not minded learning to ride a horse since last summer when Rhett had offered him a pony. "I will-"
"I'll arrange it Scarlett. I'll accompany Wade to the stable myself," Rhett interrupted his wife.
"You, Uncle Rhett?"
"Who else would take you, but me?" He questioned.
Wade's eyes showed the lost expression that Rhett was used to seeing when the boy was confronted by his mother.
"Learning how to ride a horse is a father/son activity," he said simply. Worried he would have to explain further, suddenly unsure how he would do that. The moment the phrase left his lips, he regretted not using another term such as male bonding or manly activity. Wade was his boy, no one else should be teaching him, no one dared have the right to such a thing.
"Uncle Rhett's quite right and I imagine he would have done this last summer if you'd confessed that you wanted a horse and not a pony," Scarlett supplied.
"Can I have a horse?" The words slipped out of Wade's mouth before he even realized. His eyes showed his shock after.
"Here on Peachtree, absolutely not. The street's entirely too busy for you to ride on for several more years."
"We'll start you off on the stable's horses to see what type of a mount will suit you," he nodded at his stepson.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Scarlett's door was always open now.
He often left the house as the children went to bed.
Not for long, a few hours. A time when most married couples would be sharing an evening meal, a time that he and Scarlett had once shared their evening meals.
Not anymore.
So he went out for cards or drink on the nights they did not go out together.
Not women.
Not anymore.
Maybe one day, but not today.
When she had barred him from her room, it had felt like the end of their marriage. The end of his dreams. It had been as good as a divorce only he had to keep living with her.
Now though, her door was open because they shared a new baby.
Maybe one day he would figure out how to seduce his wife with no love involved.
But for now, her door was open and that was enough.
The door was open for him to see the baby and for her to hear Bonnie while he was out.
How drastically different their lives were now.
He had once imagined breaking down Scarlett's door in the middle of the night.
Now he crossed the passageway with ease when he heard their son crying.
Walking with the baby to settle him down while Scarlett remained in bed and half asleep.
He had even fallen asleep on her bed a time or two, when the baby refused to settle without being in his arms.
The baby certainly never lacked for love or attention. Rhett wasn't certain he was ever in his cradle unless Scarlett was asleep.
-o-o-o-o-o-o-
She sat at her vanity already in her evening gown as Prissy finished fixing her hair. There would be dancing tonight, she hadn't danced since August and even that had been a staid waltz. Rhett had declared the other dances too complicated for her advancing pregnancy. He'd at least had the decency of staying by her side for them, she'd have likely thrown a pitcher of lemonade onto the dance floor if he'd dare lead someone else out onto it.
Dancing was going out of fashion, it seemed as if the Old Guard were the only ones in town daring to partake in the activity. Her carpetbagger friends seldomly danced and when they did Scarlett had to spend ages beforehand learning the steps to keep up.
Theirs was practically the only house in town that had a ballroom. She'd insisted upon it, expecting endless parties like the wonderful spring parties thrown in the country. There had been practically none since that first year. Certainly, none that quite lived up to that first year.
She suddenly found herself lost in a memory, her body practically overflowing in a beautiful dark emerald velvet gown Rhett had made for her while she was nearly ready to deliver Bonnie. She had seethed at the size of it, had wanted to throw it into the fire, but his promise that they would do something fun…
He had taken her to the third floor and spent the night dancing with her, feeding her delicate bites of food, while a band played only for them.
He had been such a considerate husband. She tried to recall if she had said thank you for that. She remembered being in a foul mood as she dressed, then being furious as the night went on and her feet began to swell and her back began to hurt. He'd stayed so calm and caring, reminding her that it was very nearly over.
Her eyes betrayed her and she turned in between twists of her hair. Rhett in his evening attire with a blanket covering both shoulders and the entirety of his chest as he held Nicky to him. They were such a beautiful sight.
His brows lifted up in question.
"Do you think we could close off part of the ballroom, make it more intimate? It seems as if a lot of Atlanta takes offense to our wealth, but seeing as we're the only ones with a ballroom and I'd prefer dancing more than twice a year."
"I'm certain your architect can do whatever you wish. I'm fairly sure I'm still finding new features within the house three years later."
"I did give you the full tour repeatedly," she informed her husband.
"I imagine that would be like trying to retain all the details of the entirety of Shakespeare's works in half a day."
"Are you calling my house a work of art?"
"Perhaps Edward the Third."
"Sounds royal, I'd imagine that would be good, but I expect coming from you, it's not."
He smirked.
"Do be careful before he dribbles onto your sleeve," she said turning her attention back to Prissy.
His smirk quickly fell and his brows narrowed as he swiftly moved the baby and began to inspect the area.
Thanks for reading!