The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of Margaret Mitchell, her heirs, and their assigns.

A/N: There will be no note at the bottom of this chapter for artistic reasons. As always, I'd like to thank the readers and reviewers of this story, including gabyhyatt, Truckee Gal, Guest, Romabeachgirl1981, and Jguest.

This chapter is M for content.

The war made it hard for women to get quite as many underclothes as they were used to wearing. The result of this was that if Rhett laid his hand just so on the underside of Scarlett's breast, quite a bit of it was pushed up above the neckline of her dress. His lips were thereby granted quite a bit of access that he didn't usually have. Rhett Butler wasn't used to needing such machinations when enjoying a woman's body, but none of the women he'd enjoyed to this point in his life worried so much about their clothes when spending time with him, and none of them were ladies. Scarlett O'Hara wasn't a lady either-exactly-but she'd been raised as one and for the most part presented a ladylike face to the world. Rhett was forced to live with that constraint and to take pleasure in circumventing what little convention the two of them were following in this most inappropriate wooing.

Rhett had been applying his lips to usually covered flesh with very good effect on this particular night. Scarlett's heart was beating quite hard under his hands, and her breath kept coming in breathy little gasps. The seduction might accomplish what appealing to her intelligence did not. "Oh, Rhett..." The sound of his name in that tone of voice encouraged him on. Did he dare undo another button?

"Muvver?"

As though cold water had been doused on them, Both Scarlett and Rhett stood up straight and stared at each other.

"Muvver!"

"Coming, Wade darling," she said. She went through the open door and up the stairs to where her son was on the landing. Picking him up, she brought him down the stairs and sat on the top porch step with him in her arms.

"Wade scawed, Muvver!"

"Did you have a bad dream?" She felt his forehead. He was a little warm, but he usually was when he was asleep. The little head nodded. There was nothing to do but hold the child and try to soothe him.

Hush, little Baby, don't say a word,
Mama's gonna buy you a Mockingbird.

Rhett's arm came around them both, and his voice joined hers on the next verse.

And if that mockingbird don't sing,
Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring...

They sang all the way to the sweetest baby in town and Wade drowsed a bit, but still wasn't quite asleep. Rhett recalled a tune, sung by a grandmother he barely remembered. First he hummed, and then he sang.

Blow the wind, blow;
Swift and low;
Blow the wind o'er the ocean...

Scarlett had inadvertently hit the nail on the head, Rhett realized. The passel of brats was the most important thing to consider. If he made Scarlett his mistress, it would hurt Wade, and more than hurting Wade it would hurt the children he and Scarlett would have. Suddenly he saw them, sweet little folks with dark hair and green eyes. He wanted the world for them. Looking at Scarlett, he wondered what that world would be.

Wade finally went limp, asleep at last. Scarlett stood with him in her arms, wobbled, and caught herself.

"Do you want me to help you with him?"

She shook her head. "No, I've done this before. I can handle it. Melanie would be scandalized if you went up stairs."

"All right, then," he said. He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "Good night, my very dear Mrs. Hamilton."

"Good night, Captain Butler."

Several nights later, Rhett was thinking, even as he appreciated the shape of Scarlett under her worn calico dress. He would have to live in this house, sleep with Scarlett in her husband's bed. At least Sarah Jane Hamilton was gone, and by the time she came back, other arrangements could be made. Could he convince Scarlett to come to his hotel for a few hours? He thought maybe he could. It would be better to do it sooner rather than later.

"Do you have a prettier dress?" he whispered into her ear.

"I still have the one made up of that green silk," she whispered. She was finding it hard to breathe. Rhett had been kissing her dizzy, and the new way he was touching her made her feel like drunkenness must feel.

"Can you put it on? There's a place I'd like to take you."

"Right now?"

"This very minute."

She looked up into his eyes and there was enough moonlight for her to see that he was serious. She realized that whatever was going to happen would happen now, tonight, and she nodded. She no longer cared. The confines of respectability vanished when compared to what it meant to be in Rhett's arms. His words had promised her that she would like it. His arms promised her passion. His kisses promised her bliss. She'd already had a taste of all those things when he held her so close and kissed her. She shouldn't trust him, but she did.

He walked her to the Catholic church near the center of town. She turned and looked at him. "Rhett?"

"The passel of brats will need a name," he said lightly, "and should the need arise, my family might take you in, but only if I properly marry you."

"But this church? You don't even believe in God."

"If we have to do this, and it appears we must, I want it to be fully binding in every way possible, Scarlett. I've spoken with the priest. He's waiting for us."

"Is this how you're going to propose marriage to me?"

His teeth gleamed in the moonlight. "I'm avoiding all the problems you mentioned before. You can't set me down and I can't get the upper hand. I have everything ready, Scarlett. Will you become my wife tonight?"

Scarlett was married for the second time in a dress her groom had long-ago provided, with less fanfare than she dreamed possible, but with a look in Rhett's eyes that made all other considerations unimportant. He, meanwhile, looked into her eyes and felt lost. She had such trust in her face. He had no idea how he would fulfill that trust, but he would do everything in his power. The priest said the final blessing over them, and then they were sent on their way.

Rhett brought her to his hotel, up to his suite. "Welcome to my humble abode, my dear Mrs.-" The strangest look came over his face and a lump came up his throat that he couldn't quite swallow down- "My very dear Mrs. Butler."

He lifted her in his arms and walked all the way through the small sitting room into the bedroom, where he set her on the bed before sitting on it himself. "I know we don't have very long, but I thought we might have a little time just to ourselves."

Scarlett lost her voice and thought oddly of the moment right before she told Ashley she loved him all those months ago at Twelve Oaks. She didn't love Rhett, she couldn't, but she wanted this, to be alone with him. She swallowed hard and said, "I'm sure you know best."

He saw again the trust in her face and smiled. Then he stood long enough to remove his jacket and boots. Scarlett removed her hat and set it on the bedside table with her reticule. She didn't have time to consider what came next, because he was there, and his lips were on hers.

Everything she'd learned since they'd started meeting without other people around suddenly became the only lessons she'd ever had that were worth knowing. His mouth slanted over hers, threatening to remove all sanity, but she knew that she wanted to feel his hair between her fingers, so she ran her hands up the sleeves of his shirt to his neck. For some reason, this made him groan, so she ran her hands down again, taking the time to feel the play of muscles under broadcloth.

She realized his hands were behind her back and a cooling sensation alerted her to the fact that he'd completely unbuttoned her from neck to waist and was working the ties of her corset. She knew a moment of uncertainty. The kiss broke. "You know how to do that a little too well."

His eyes were drowsy, as though he were drunk. "It's never been like this, Scarlett, and now there won't be anyone else."

Her hands were now resting on his shoulders, and she timidly slid them down over his chest, aware that he was holding his breath. When she reached his buttons, she asked, "Is this-may I?" Fair is fair, she thought.

He let his breath out with a chuckle and said. "Of course." He tucked his chin down to watch her progress intently.

"Am I doing this right?" she asked a bit tartly. There were only three buttons, and now her hands were under the vest at his shoulders, sliding them over his arms.

He closed his eyes and let the feel of her hands wash over him. "Oh, yes... Scarlett, you're redefining my love life."

He stood her up then, to help her out of her dress and set it aside. Having unfastened the laces of her corset, he now set about unhooking it and peeling it back, kissing her through her exposed chemise every inch of the way. He was brought up short when he realized that Scarlett had removed his collar and was blindly following the line of buttons down his shirt. She had reached his waistband, which left her very pink and confused and himself quite aroused.

Setting aside the corset, he smiled and kissed her face exuberantly. "I knew you'd be good at this." Her face went red, and he went on. "I knew that we would be good together, Scarlett, and you were right, it's better that we're married."

"I never-"

"I know, but it was something in you that held out for this, just as there's something in you that responds to this." He kissed her again, and she clung to him.

He went around the room and blew out all the candles but one. Scarlett looked at it and then him.

"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to see your face while I make love to you." He turned from her as he finished undressing, allowing her to slip between the sheets.

His voice was as alluring as his kisses were. He was suddenly on the bed with her, kissing her again, her lips, her face, and down her neck. Her chemise became a memory, floating off somewhere, and then his lips were on her breasts. "So pretty," he whispered. "So sweet."

Scarlett didn't know what was happening to her. Her hips started thrusting without her realizing it, jerky eager movements that she didn't understand.

"Easy love," he mumbled as he suckled and kissed and nipped. His hands slid down to her thighs, soothing them and exciting them at the same time.

Scarlett's hands fluttered around his head and over his shoulders. "I want-" She didn't have a name for it. "I want."

"I know, my dear, I know," he answered. He was trying to absorb it all at once. She was finally his and he was at a feast with no idea which course to sample first. At the same time he needed to be gentle. Her previous experience, if he understood what she told him, had been painful and uninspiring. He needed to be patient, not to rush it. He kept tasting her, loving the feel of her within his arms.

"Rhett, please, I need..." He looked into her face and saw what he'd only vaguely known he was looking for. In the depths of her passion, the only thing she was aware of, was able to see or think of, was him. He realized that in his own passion he had already worked his body between her legs, he was so lost in the same passion as Scarlet that he was already moving into position. He slid his hands along her legs, moving them gently so that he wouldn't hurt her.

She wanted him to do this. She'd never wanted anything else in her entire life but his body, like this. She was sure of it, and she trusted him. He leaned down to kiss her as he slid into place. He stopped and looked into her eyes with concern. She looked up into his with wonder. This wasn't painful or distasteful. It was completion. "Oh, yes..."

He tried to go slowly, to keep caressing her so that she would continue to want this. He held her hips and moved gently. "Yes," she whispered again.

She didn't know what she was feeling, just that even as his fingertips caused tremors that went all through her, just as his thrusting within her caused her to feel things deep within herself she didn't know were there, she was somehow feeling something beyond her body, beyond anything, and then the feeling was unbearably intense. "Rhett!" She squeezed her legs around his hips as another wave of it came upon her. "Rhett!" she said more quietly even as she felt him move faster and harder. "Oh, Rhett..." she breathed out as the sweetest wave yet came to her.

Rhett held her hips still as he shuddered into her, one last full thrust that emptied him but left him exhilarated. It had never been like this. He gathered her up underneath him protectively and possessively. He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her whole face in delight. He leaned up on his elbows and knees and smiled down at his bride.

"Did I, was that all right?" she asked.

"Did you enjoy it?"

She blushed. "I-oh, yes."

"Then it was perfection, my love."