I just want to thank everyone again for the feedback on this story. I also want to apologize for not explaining the basis of this fic better. To be honest, I'm just attempting to go deeper into the interlude following Ashley's party and maybe add a new twist to it. That being said, I really have no clue where it's headed...lol Thanks again for taking time to read the chapters and leave feedback!

CHAPTER 3

Scarlett couldn't help wondering if other women felt the same as she, doubted any of them did, at least the ones she was acquainted with. All of them, the self-proclaimed hierarchy of Atlanta society, were devoted wives to their husbands. She blushed, giggled to herself as her mind wandered to Mrs. Merriweather, wondered if old man Merriweather ever brought out emotions in her such as those she'd emitted last night.

"Oh...she wouldn't know what to think if he ever...," her words trailed off as Scarlett chided herself.

Deep down, however, she knew she was at least partly correct in her assessment. Nothing had prepared her for this. None of her mother's teachings involved anything even remotely close to it. Scarlett had never done particularly well in school, had been an average student at best, not that great scholastic achievements were expected of her. It was quite simple, actually. Make yourself attractive...flirt, albeit in a ladylike fashion...get married...

Scarlett reflected on those teachings, greatly perplexed by it all. Was marriage supposed to be this way? Was her reaction last night considered proper? Or, was it something only someone the likes of Belle Watling would dare? Surely it was wrong. It had to be. A proper wife should utilize her time crocheting, knitting doilies, or something of that nature. But never, not at any time, should a wife spend her day as Scarlett was right now, pining for her husband's return. Not for the reasons she longed for him anyway.

What would they all think of her if they knew what was running through her mind right now? She'd surely be cast out of decent society, not that she hadn't already been. Scarlett reflected on the previous afternoon, as well as the aftermath. She was angry. None of the others knew, nor would they believe the truth. They'd always been against her and if not for Melly, Scarlett would have been cast out of their circle long ago.

"What are they...just a pack of old peahens...," Scarlett commented aloud.

Scarlett narrowed her eyes, infuriated at what had transpired both at the mill as well as the party. In truth, she'd never considered herself one of them. That, however, did not mean she was unblemished emotionally by her status as the object of their disdain. They'd looked down their noses at her for as long as Scarlett could remember, and rightfully so at times. This time they were wrong. And what hurt her most, was the cowardly manner in which Ashley had behaved in the aftermath. Sitting their...shoulders slouched...he isn't the man I thought he was...if he was, he would have...

It occurred to her Rhett had not graced her with his presence as she had anticipated. Scarlett glanced toward the clock, frowned upon realizing it was almost noon. Where is he...?

Rhett continued along the Decatur Road, turned the carriage just prior to reaching the mill. For various reasons, he'd always looked on the mill with discord. He'd jeered at her over it at times, though he kept the main basis of his contempt to himself. And in Rhett's eyes, the fault didn't lie with Scarlett. Some of it rested on Frank Kennedy for not having the gumption to stand up to her. But the vast majority he blamed on the war. It had hardened her. Scarlett had witnessed far more in her twenty-some years than she should ever have been exposed to in a lifetime. By giving her all her heart's desires, Rhett had hoped to erase the memory of the war and its consequences from her mind. Scarlett deserved far more than the hand she'd been dealt. A great sadness shook the core of his being as Rhett realized all the riches he'd bestowed on her would never be enough. It was always there.

Scarlett peered out the window, having heard the sounds of laughter reverberating from the lawn, and looked on for a few minutes as Wade and Ella indulged in what appeared to be a game of hide and seek. A twinge of guilt pierced her mind as she watched them. Outside, they were carefree, happy children. In her presence, however, they were far different. They're afraid of me...

"But not Bonnie...," she whispered.

Scarlett released the drapes, unwilling to allow herself to succumb to the tremendous regret she felt whenever she compared her relationship with Bonnie to the one she lacked with her first and second born. Some day they'll understand...when they're older...

She padded across the bedroom, undecided whether or not to get dressed. At present, the safeness of her room was winning out. Scarlett came to an abrupt halt as she meandered past her vanity table, her green eyes wandered to a pad of floral-print, emblazoned with her initials sitting on top. And before she realized it, Scarlett was sitting at the table, pen in hand. She'd kept a diary once, back when she was a teenager, though not for long. In less than a month she'd abandoned it, having much better ways to utilize her time. Now, it seemed the logical thing to do.

I really have no idea why I'm writing this and, to be honest, it seems rather foolish. But perhaps I can make some sense out of this predicament by transferring my thoughts to paper. If nothing else, maybe I can somehow compose myself before Rhett returns. That in itself is a mystery. After last night, I awakened with this girlish fantasy that he would sweep into my bedroom, maybe even serve me breakfast in bed. It's too late for that and though I haven't ventured from the confines of this room to inquire as to his whereabouts, I feel secure in saying he is most definitely not on the premises.

How I wish someone had warned me so that I might have been prepared. As it is, I learned it by experience. And what I am speaking of is something of a very private nature. A proper lady would never speak of it let alone write about it. But, not unlike most things I've encountered in my adulthood, I have noone to turn to other than myself. Besides, when have I ever been looked upon as a proper lady?

It happened last night. Rhett and I embarked on a terrible row following Melly's party for Ashley, a gathering I desperately wanted to avoid due to a situation I'd...

Scarlett closed her eyes for a moment, simultaneously lifted her pen from the heavy paper before her. "I can't bear to think about that right now..."

The argument began downstairs and went on for some time. At one point I actually feared he might kill me, he was so enraged. And I hated him! Just when I thought it could not possibly get any worse, Rhett forced himself upon me. That's how it began anyway. When he grabbed me, yanked me toward him, I tried to pull away. I was desperate to get away from him. He was too strong though, and my attempts at wrenching myself from his grasp were to no avail. When he forced his lips upon mine, I tried to shrink away, once again was unsuccessful. He was disheveled, his breath stunk of liquor, and I was disgusted by his very existence. Then, somewhere in the midst of his forced kisses, it became a blur. I'm not sure when the change occurred. The change in me, I mean. But somewhere along the way my demeanor crossed over. I couldn't fight him, nor did I want to!

Rhett was different too. He wasn't kind, he wasn't tender. He was overpowering. And I relished in that power he wielded over me. In allowing him that power I made a discovery. I, rather he, unlocked something...unleashed something I never knew existed. It was a sensation, a tingling feeling of intense pleasure. A release. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't speak. Rhett must have sensed it because at that point he increased the pace of his movements and we continued in that fashion until...

Scarlett lifted her head, steered her gaze toward her own reflection. The cheshire cat grin crept across her face. Her eyes began to sparkle. She had her answer. All her life she'd melted and broken hearts with her eyes, her smile. But they were no match for the weapon she now possessed.

"I've defeated you, Rhett Butler..."