Thank you so much for those great reviews last time. I am glad you guys are still enjoying this lighthearted fic.

So there is a mention in this chapter about the talk Rhett gives Scarlett about nice people, it does NOT include Melly, her mother and comparing Scarlett to either of them. It is simply about her inability to judge people.


-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Part Thirteen

New Orleans

Mid-September 1868

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"What on earth are you doing?" Scarlett paused in the final touches of getting ready for the night. He had insisted upon taking Estelle with them just as he had when they had gone to Charleston. Scarlett was loathe to admit it, but she made a wonderful lady's maid. Scarlett and Mammy had managed to train Prissy relatively well, but it was more that Scarlett had to dictate the girl's every move to her. Scarlett was fairly certain that Estelle was reading her magazines after her, which should make her livid, but it certainly seemed like a liberty that Rhett would allow. Tonight, Estelle had suggested a hairstyle, Scarlett herself had only seen in a magazine the month prior.

"Preparing everything for our return."

"What on earth is that," she frowned not clearly able to see what it was he was doing aside from placing a small basin on the night stand.

"The sheath, I had new ones made."

"No it isn't," she could see that much from the color, she stood.

"Animal not the rubber ones we've been using."

"What was wrong with the ones we've been using?"

"They are convenient, but this is far more comfortable and enjoyable."

"Enjoyable," she gave him a look, "I've hardly heard you complaining before."

"Nor will you ever. The anticipated three are more than enough, but seeing as we are married now and I imagine most of our relations will now take place in our bedroom, this will allow for closer intimacy."

"What exactly is it?" She took a step closer.

"The intestine."

"Like sausage?" her nose crinkled.

He smirked, "Rather apt."

"Why that looks so much thinner Rhett, you can hardly think that's-"

"Exactly my dear," he said taking a step closer to her, "it will allow us to be far more intimately joined. They must be dampened for use."

"It looks so flimsy," she frowned.

"My dear, I promise it was finely crafted by the doctor, it is a far better fit."

"Crafted by the doctor?"

"This is hardly something you could pick up at a general store. Measurements, molds, it all depends on what practitioner you visit. My dear you could make them at home, we could put our fertility in your hands."

She frowned at him.

He laughed, his loud laugh. "Don't worry I had new rubber ones made as well and I picked up some items should they ever fail us again."

"What items?" Scarlett frowned again.

He smiled, "Things you'll be happier not to think about unless we need them. Unless you'd like to discuss-"

"No," the word shot out of her mouth. She hated herself for it, for as much as she appreciated the threat of children being removed from their relations, there was something so unsavory about it.

He laughed as she knew he would.

"Do wives really-" she frowned, "make those things?"

He smirked, "There are many wives such as yourself more than content with the number of children they have."

"I'd have never thought growing up that couples-"

"Well based upon Mrs. Tarleton and your own mother, I would imagine they did not," he smirked.

"But couples really do?"

"Various means, but yes. I am more than certain Percy did not avoid Leticia's bed those four years between children."

"Rhett," she exclaimed, but loved every moment of it. "Do you really think so?"

"I believe the last four are a year apart."

"Well that was certainly to keep him from the war. She isn't the most attractive woman."

"Leticia has a clever mind that matters far more than looks. No Percy does not avoid his wife."

"How do you know so much about Leticia DeVaughn and why are you calling them by their first names?"

"They hosted me for supper when I went to Atlanta before Charleston."

"Why you never told me that," she frowned yet again.

"You my dear did not ask."

"I'm sure I did," another frown.

"I am certain you didn't."

"Well I meant to. I didn't realize you knew the DeVaughns so intimately."

"Hardly intimately, but I have enjoyed the time I've spent with them. I imagine you would as well."

"She's a northerner."

"She's more European at this point than a northerner if it makes you feel better."

"He had four children rather than return to fight in the war."

"Should he have joined his three older brothers in the ground?"

"You joined the war."

"And you were furious with me, why was that?"

Her mouth opened, but the tumble of words that ran through her head stayed in her head. The idea of Rhett dying, of him leaving her forever, even just the selfishness of him in that moment of joining up when she needed him so. "It was foolish and you know it."

"Yes and a great deal of Atlanta still hates me because I said the words they were all too self-involved to see. I don't regret my decision to join, but I certainly don't hold Percy's decision against him and I don't imagine you do either. You are repeating the words of the old biddies who look out upon their burnt out lands and blame the northerners for their own imprudent decisions."

She bit her lip.

"We will not live in the past. Those days are gone and I will not allow you to trap us with our neighbors. If you allow yourself there is so much in the future. Would you like to spend your days socializing, drinking weak tea and discussing the past or do you want to spend nights drinking champagne and dancing?"

"They'll talk about us."

"They were going to talk about us anyway. You married a scoundrel. A gambler. A man disowned by his own family for two decades."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The was a smugness upon Rhett's face as she woke for the 2nd morning in New Orleans. That first day after they arrived had been so calm and relaxed, they had eaten and gone to the dressmaker and then they had taken supper in their room and retired early, not that they had slept much. She had spent nearly all of their second day accomplishing the wardrobe for the town for the moment she had stepped off the train she had realized just how ill suited her beautiful new clothing was for the city. They were a type of rich she wasn't sure she had ever experienced before and they held the same look of Rhett, unencumbered. There were no types of worries on their minds, certainly none financial.

So on the 2nd morning there was the same smugness that had been on her husband's face last night as he informed her of who his very nice friends were. The friends that had thrown a party to welcome them to town and they hadn't arrived back at the hotel until the sun was nearly up.

"Is it still morning?" she questioned.

"For another 3 minutes."

They had made frantic love upon their return home, but even as rushed as it was after a night of the tease of touching and dancing, the sun had been up before her eyes closed. "I need to sleep more," was the entirety of her thought, if she didn't sleep, she wouldn't survive this trip.

"We are going for a drive at four, if you don't get up now there'll be no shopping or food beforehand. Unless you want to cancel the drive."

"Absolutely not, what would your friends think of me if I made plans just to break them," she pushed herself up, but secretly she wanted to throw her hands out in a whine like the children.

"Shall I call for a bath?" He asked standing.

"As lovely as that sounds, I'll fall asleep if I lay down."

"Laying down with you sounds lovely," he said as he came to her side and before she knew it she was caught up in a kiss and soon the weight of her husband was pressing her into the bed.

Then just as quickly as he had pressed her into bed, he was pulling her out of it. "Come now, we have things to do. Estelle's been waiting in the sitting room for the last hour. I'll return for you at a quarter 'til one."

The swiftness of her husband's departure made Scarlett's head sway more than the alcohol, but Estelle's quick arrival meant her confusion was swept to the side.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"Oh Rhett, I simply can't," she went stiff as he caught her up in an embrace as they returned home from supper. She had pleaded off from the list of amusements he had offered her. Well aware the supper they were to attend the following night would likely last until sunrise.

She was simply so full and tired, why she nearly felt as bloated as she'd been just before Ella's birth.

He laughed lightly, "Are you tired or too full?"

"Both," she pouted at him.

"Seeing you here, I should be grateful that you had Betina can so much of the garden and it did not all end up on dinner plates." He smiled and turned her to undo her dress,

"Is this truly how Betina cooks?" Scarlett questioned.

"Quite similar, I've certainly never had a complaint regarding any of her suppers."

"However, did you eat at Tara nearly ever single day when all of that awaited you at home."

"The company is more pleasing," he said making fast work of getting Scarlett out of her elegant gown.

"The meals we take at Tara from now on will be transported from our kitchen."

He laughed.

"I don't even think I can brush my hair," she savored the feeling of her corset being loosened, but it still wasn't quite enough air.

"I will brush your hair for you. I wouldn't want to face Estelle's wrath tomorrow if your hair resembles a nest."

"For someone who's been a scoundrel and a bachelor for twenty years, you certainly make a good husband."

"Oh do I?"

"Or a lady's maid," she smirked.

He smiled back as he set her free from the trappings of her attire.

She was pleased with herself, so rarely did she accomplish teasing.

"Sit on the bed, it will be easier for me to reach your hair," he instructed his wife.

"You are an exceptional lady's maid," she smirked and climbed into bed, sitting like a child with her legs folded and her back to him.

"I may bring this brush to your backside if you keep repeating that."

o-o-o

She woke up still tightly held in Rhett's arms. She recalled awakening in the middle of the night with a horrible dream, she recalled how he had sat with her in a chair for some time. He must have moved them back to the bed after she had fallen back asleep.

She didn't look up at him, she knew the moment she did he would know she was awake and she'd be forced to start the day rather than lay there.

She didn't know why she had that dream, she hadn't had it since Rhett had nearly been trampled. Why she'd barely had it at all since he'd returned to the states. He would never let her starve, he would never let her hurt, he would never let her suffer.

It was such a comforting thing to be protected again. To be protected by someone who was capable. He would never fall apart, no matter what happened, Rhett could always handle it.

She could tell by the way they all looked at him, at them, that is how all the women looked at them. Oh they loved him in the country, for he was handsome in a way that only seemed to grow with age and so prosperous.

Both places looked at Rhett far differently than they had in Atlanta. It had been easier to see Rhett once they were outside of the city. Where his looks weren't outshined by his outrageous behavior. In the country more often than not he was a handsome and a good man. No hint of that outspoken scoundrel.

"I know you're awake."

"Don't make me get up," she whined.

He laughed. "I won't, but I am certainly about to stretch."

Scarlett laughed as he loudly stretched and she was taken on a ride as his body expanded. When he finished he tugged her up so she was closer to his face.

"What would you like to do today?" He questioned.

"Stay in bed for several hours?"

"Should we call for some coffee and breakfast?"

"Oh could we?" she turned to look up at him, her eyes alight with joy.

"I'll even feed you if you're still too tired."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"You're drunk," Scarlett said from her perch on her husband's lap in their beautifully appointed hotel suite.

She had pulled on her red dressing gown, but he was well aware she was naked under it for he had been the one to strip away her clothing when they returned to the room. He'd felt a desperate need to escape their bed, far too close to declaring his undying devotion to his wife. He'd pulled on the graphite robe, poured himself a drink and settled back with a cigar. He hadn't expected her to follow after him a few minutes later and straddle him.

"Not as drunk as you my dear," he smirked.

"You're the one who kept having my glass refilled, isn't this what you wanted?" She pressed her body against his and ran her fingers along the thick black hair on his chest.

"I admit Scarlett, when I debauched you in the stable, I had no idea you'd turn this wanton."

"I could stop," her hands dropped.

"Don't you dare," he smirked and caught them, lifting them back up to his chest.

"You hardly debauched me."

"I most certainly did, you truly had no idea the passion that could lay between a man and a woman. I would say I feel bad for your last two husbands."

"But you don't," she smirked.

"I much rather you discovered this with me," his free hand dipped along the collar of her robe.

She smiled and bent to kiss him.

"I would like to discover something else with you, just once."

"What?"

He wanted to pretend the look in her eyes was love drunk and not lust drunk heavily influenced by actual drunk. "You and I together just once, nothing between us. Celebrate our marriage in the most basic of ways."

"I said we could have a baby in a few years, yesterday was the first day in 2 years milk wasn't in my breasts."

He smirked at how crass his drunk wife was and he was thoroughly enjoying the change in their lovemaking due to Ella being weaned, "Not to have a baby, just once my sweet. You and I. Together with nothing between us from start to finish. Doesn't that sound nice?" His hips lifted up to tempt her and he put the cigar out on the ash tray next to them.

She had her arms wrapped around his neck, her hands in the thick dark hair, so long passed since being coiffed that it fell in a sweep across his forehead, she kissed as no one ever had before. It was a wonder he'd found any satisfaction anywhere since their first kiss. Kissing Scarlett was better than any full release he could find elsewhere. His hands ran along the soft skin of her thighs, he was willing himself to be slow, to be gentle, to be languid, frankly though he wanted to just part their robes and be inside her as God intended.

"Just once," she whispered after some time, after her body's pleas for connection were going unanswered despite how she was pressed along him.

There was a glint in his eye, but he caught her in a fierce kiss before she could study him, he was soon standing with her, her legs quickly adjusting to wrap around his waist.

It was hardly just once. Every time they finished and she was sure there could be nothing more, it would begin again. She cried out at several points begging for him to stop, sure she couldn't survive anymore, but every time she went with him and fell over the edge with him. She was weary and depleted as she heard him cry out that he loved her just before another wave crashed through them. It was still in her ears as she was shifted so her head was upon his chest, both of them too exhausted to speak or do anything, but let sleep claim them as the sun was starting to rise.

o-o-o

The room was filled with light, making it impossible to keep her eyes closed any longer. She had tried everything her head under a pillow, the sheet above her head. The air felt hot and humid, but her mouth felt hot and dry. She fought to emerge from the cave she created to find the water pitcher next to their bed, desperately swallowing a full glass and closing her eyes at the end at the horror it created in her stomach.

"Are you all right my dear?"

She glared at him, sitting at the small table in their room looking perfect in beige trousers and a tan vest, the starched white of his collar making his own tanned appearance even more noticeable. He looked entirely too put together and healthy compared to how she felt. "What time is it?"

"Just past noon," he said not bothering to look at his pocket watch.

"Ugh, how are you up?"

"I do believe the question is how are you not? You are only 23 my dear, what will you be like at my age when you overindulge?"

"Dead, I imagine."

He laughed. "Will you spend the day in bed? Shall I complete our errands on my own and collect you for supper?"

"Don't you dare," they were continuing to shop for the house.

He laughed again and placed the paper he had been reading down and stood, "I will call for your bath, I will return to collect you within the hour," he said dropping a kiss on her head.

"Are you implying that I smell?"

"You smell most wonderful my dear, you smell of us. I imagine anyone whose had a modicum of enjoyment in life will be able to smell the sex on you."

"Rhett!" her eyes went wide.

"I suppose it could be fun to watch their reactions as you pass by, why I imagine many couples would frantically return home, much like how I want to strip off my clothes and join you once more."

"Most certainly not, we're going to look at china and silverware and you promised we could look at puppies for Wade."

"You don't still mean to get him a monstrosity that will be as big as his pony."

"The Saint Bernard, yes I do and I don't imagine it will actually get as big as his pony."

"Barry hound, dress it up as fancy as you want."

"The Great Saint Bernard," she counted with the title of the poem.

"How is it that you've read one magazine and it's all about the quirks of the Swiss and none of the beauty and simplicity."

"I have read plenty."

"Well when we get the dog, its name will be Barry, I'll not have you elevate a working class dog to some lofty-"

"Why Rhett," Scarlett said smirking and dropping her covers going to climb out of bed without a stitch of clothing, moving towards her robe that Rhett had obviously picked up that morning and draped over the back of a chair, "isn't that exactly what I am. Daughter of an Irish immigrant, who married a French blue blood and now I've married into the Butler name."

"Ah, but you married into the villainous side," he said stepping in closer as she slid into her robe.

She shrugged, "Good lineage, unnaturally wealthy. I'd certainly say I finished accomplishing my father's goal, albeit reluctantly."

His hands went to the sash of her gown, undoing it.

"What are you doing?"

"Exactly what you knew I'd do when you paraded across the room," he began to trail kisses down her body.

"I thought you wanted me to have a bath," she fought to keep her focus as he lingered midway down her body, she fought not to press his head in closer.

"We'll bathe together my sweet when I'm done with you in bed," he said cupping her body and standing with her.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"I don't want a new scent," Scarlett informed her husband in the middle of the chemist's shop. She hadn't an issue replacing her normal tooth powder and liquid while Rhett restocked his normal purchases, her options far superior to what she'd found in Jonesboro.

"Scarlett, you've had several scents since I've met you. They've all suited you better than lemon verbena."

"It was my mother's," she shot him a dirty look.

"Of course, it was," Rhett dryly responded.

She gave him another dirty look, well aware he wanted her to ignore all of her mother's influences.

"So I imagine this scent reminds you to be a good and courteous person, a great woman?"

Well it did.

"Well?"

"I will not be the woman I was when I was married to Frank."

His eyes closed briefly. "My mother smelled of honeysuckle when I was young. There is something comforting about the scent." His eyes opened to her startled ones, oh yes, the lemon was as comforting as Tara, his wife hiding away in the safety of her childhood. "Perhaps an oil for your bath or hair. Allow there to be a scent of your own. One we could have alone in the privacy of our bedroom, where trust me I do not want your mother."

Scarlett shot a look at the chemist who was trying to ignore their conversation, "I like lemon verbena."

"You are not your mother Scarlett. Allow her to influence you my dear, but not dictate your life." He stepped in closer to his wife, making sure the chemist wouldn't be able to hear them. "My sweet, let's try the Otto de Roses, it will suit the standing you'll have as mistress of Calverton and I imagine will pair well with the lemon, a great woman of both morals and wealth. But alone, my spoiled and adored wife in the bedroom."

She blushed against her husband's husky words in her ear and was startled moments later when he summoned the chemist to them, nearly forgetting they were in a shop with others.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

"We should take Lawrence home with us," Scarlett informed her husband as they took a hackney away from Lawrence's school after dropping the boy off from the meal they had taken with him.

"What are you talking about Scarlett?" He asked clearly perplexed. Frankly unsure of who he was married to at this point for she was certainly not the woman he had proposed to repeatedly. Overnight Scarlett had seemed to change from someone opposed to and certainly delaying marriage as long as possible to planning a wedding within days. She had gone from another baby would be the end of the world to agreeing to one more in the future and now she was offering to take on his ward as well? That was four children.

"It made sense for your ward to be raised by others while you were a bachelor, but you're married now and raising children."

"I agreed to pay for the child and see to his upbringing, not raise him," Rhett remarked. He had never intended on being the boy's father.

"He is as good as an orphan. Someone has to be his family."

"They are his family; he's very well cared for."

"Because they are paid to. What kind of a life is that? We'll have to bring him home for the holidays and the summer. What will that do to him, seeing the life he should have been raised in and then being sent away because he isn't ours."

"My dear you are the one who insisted I bring him to Tara for a visit."

"Yes because he is your ward and that is what people do."

"We are not those people," he defended.

"You may not have been that person, but I hate to inform you, Rhett Butler. You are now. You bought the house, you bought the ponies."

"For your children."

"For your children," she smugly retorted. "Wade looks to you for everything he does. What is they say about children and fathers? Boys want to be them and girls want to marry them."

"So this is about you trying to be your mother again?"

"What type of a man do you want Wade to be, the kind of man who does the bare minimum regarding his responsibilities. Would you like Ella to be like me and marry a gambler, who often can't be trusted to keep his opinions to himself even when it's a detriment to his reputation and his family's?"

"Who are you and what did you do with that impetuous and selfish Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy."

"You insisted that I do this a third time. I'll not fail as wretchedly as I did the last time."

"Thank heavens, this is self-centered, you're worried about what others will think of you."

She shot him a glare as he smirked. "Wade needs company and Lawrence needs a family."

"We got the boy a dog Scarlett."

Her glare continued.

"Once we take him in Scarlett, there will be no returning him. He'll be yours to care for just as if you'd given birth to him. You'll not pass him off to Will if he gets to be too much."

"I pass Wade off to Will all the time when he gets to be too much," she dryly reported.

His head tilted and dropped in concession, "You know what I mean."

"The house is large; he's practically fully grown. His manners are certainly better than most of the boys I grew up with."

"I will return to the school tomorrow and talk with Lawrence, see if he is agreeable to the idea. We won't take him now. We'll wait until winter break. Let us adjust to living at Calverton and Lawrence adapt to the idea."

"Good," she nodded.

"Would you like to stop for a drink before we return to the hotel?"

"I would like to stop for several."

He let out a loud laugh and pulled her in tightly to his side.


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