Two hours later, freshly rested and with her skin still flushed and soft to the touch from the hot bath, Scarlett stood in her wardrobe with her hands on her hips and a large frown plastered across her face. She'd been trying to decide what to wear for the last twenty minutes, and while she'd managed to narrow it down to a choice between five dresses, she wasn't truly satisfied with any of them. Shivering softly in her thin chemise, she looked over them again with a critical eye. Where had all her nice dresses gone? Surely she owned better ones than these?

All of her most recent purchases were impossible. Their designs and cuts were far too brash and obvious to attract Rhett. In fact, one of his favourite past times these days was insulting her 'increasingly hideous' taste in clothing. More than once, he'd even gone so far as to inquire whether she'd been having trouble with her eyesight.

'No,' she'd answered the first time it had happened, utterly bemused by his question. 'Why do you ask?'

'No reason,' he'd answered, his eyes bright and glinting with what was either amusement or malice. Scarlett found the two emotions were becoming increasingly hard to tell apart where he was concerned. 'It's just that, in my humble experience, only someone with severely impaired vision would mistake that particular shade of fuchsia for flattering.'

No, Scarlett mused, her newer dresses would not do at all.

Her older dresses were no better. They all seemed too simple and innocent to woo her husband. After all, he had seen her wearing them a million times before, and, if she was to stand a chance of reigniting the spark between them, then she felt that she needed a dress that would truly stop him in his tracks. Sighing in frustration, she was about to settle for a red dress which was slightly too low in the bosom to be altogether respectable, but would just about suffice at a push, when a flash of green caught her eye. She stepped back, peering past her vast collection of mourning clothes into the very depths of the wardrobe.

Scarlett walked over, her eyes lighting up to match the emerald dress that she carefully extracted from its hiding place against the back wall. She pulled it out, her jaw slackening as she admired the seemingly endless yards of flawless green silk that floated elegantly to the floor. It was perfect. For a moment she could not remember where she had gotten it from, before the memory came back to her vaguely, like a slightly hazy snippet from a half-forgotten dream.

She was lying in a bed in New Orleans, a new bride for the third -and hopefully final- time in her still short life. Rhett had been out all morning doing goodness knows what, and she was working herself up into a temper when he suddenly re-emerged, grinning, and holding aloft a beautifully expensive looking box. She'd smiled, flashing her dimples, when he'd lain it down on the mattress before her with all the reverence of a knight making a tribute to his queen. There was a handwritten note attached to the lid, and she'd picked it impatiently, too eager to open her gift to pay the words much mind.

My darling wife, it read, and Scarlett felt her interest peak at the tender endearment. I remember a particularly scandalous conversation we had some time ago when you expressed a wish to have all of you clothes made out of silk. Please accept this dress as a symbol of my desire to make all of your dreams a reality.

Scarlett had been momentarily taken aback, surprised to find that not only had Rhett remembered such a trivial comment, but that he had actually gone out of his way to make it come true. It filled her with a sudden rush of security and worth, the like of which she had not experienced since her childhood at Tara. For the first time she began to she wonder earnestly if perhaps he didn't love her, after all. Surely he wouldn't have gone to so much trouble if their relationship really was only a business transaction to him?

But as she raised bewildered green eyes to black ones, she saw to her considerable disappointment that his expression was not one of love, but rather mirth. Scarlett's skin bristled as she wondered whether the present wasn't in fact a cunning trap, designed to trick her into thinking he cared. At this thought, the tender feelings she had felt for her husband, so newly born, were instantly smothered by her fear of some planned, future treachery. Rhett seemed oblivious to the change in her demeanour, however, and only grinned wider as he presented her with a second, smaller box.

'I wanted to make sure I fulfilled your desires thoroughly,' he drawled as she removed the lid to reveal undergarments. 'And you did say that you wanted all of your clothes to be made of silk.'

Standing in her wardrobe, separated from the event by several years, Scarlett still felt her cheeks burn at the memory of Rhett's scandalous present and the even more indecent scene that had followed. She remembered how deftly he'd coaxed her into trying on her new clothes, how dark his eyes had glowed as he took in the sight of her, and how skilfully he'd undressed her until she'd stood before him in nothing but her new underwear. She remembered, also, how they'd made love for the first time during the daylight hours, completely exposed to one another as Rhett had torn the delicate silk from her writhing body in rare moment of unbridled passion. Now, she almost wished that he hadn't. That she'd made him strip them from her more carefully. They'd been the most beautiful pieces of underwear that she'd ever owned and, while he had promised to replace them as soon as they returned to Atlanta, for one reason or another he had never gotten around to it, and something of what had been gained that day had been lost, intimacy giving way to implacability as the years worn steadily on.

Sighing wistfully to herself, Scarlett called for Prissy to come lace her. With each pull of the corset she felt her spine straighten a little, her resolve to win her husband back hardening with every inch taken off her waistline, so that when she finally slipped into her green dress, and felt the the buttery-soft fabric caress her skin like a lover's hand, she knew that she was ready to put the missed opportunities of the past behind her and fight tooth and nail for her future happiness.

Walking over to her vanity, she sat down on the stool and regarded herself openly in the mirror. Unthinkingly, her hand reached for the rouge, but she tempered her instinct to apply it liberally to her cheeks as she was wont to do these days, instead remembering how Rhett had always praised the paleness of her skin. While she wasn't brave enough to leave her face completely bare, she made sure to apply only the faintest of strokes to her cheeks, intending to heighten rather than disguise her natural complexion.

She bit her lips as she'd used to do back in the days before she discovered make up in order to make them appear red and plump. Scarlett smiled as she studied the result. She looked younger somehow; purer. That last was a not word that she would normally apply to herself, but it seemed to suit the bright-eyed beauty that stared out at her from behind the glass perfectly.

She left her hair down around her shoulders, her raven tresses falling in smooth, natural waves after her bath. She thought back to how Rhett had always loved to stroke her hair as they lay together at night, how he would take her locks and wrap them tightly around his throat before he fell asleep. Once she had gotten up the courage to ask him why he did this, the gentle gesture so at odds with his usual fierce, masculine behaviour. He had smiled enigmatically at her question and replied, 'My dear, try as I might, I can never seem get close enough to you to satisfy by overwhelming need.'

At the time she had frowned at his answer, believing him to be laughing at her, but now she simply smiled and allowed herself to hope that his words had been true. She rose to head downstairs, but hesitated when she saw her bottle of lemon verbena scent lying neglected at the far edge of her vanity. She had not worn it for some time, having moved on to using more potent, floral scents in recent years. Yet, now it sweet simplicity called to her once more, reminding her of the earlier, happier days of her and Rhett's relationship, days that she now longed to return to. Dabbing some on to her wrists and neck, Scarlett ran her scented fingers through her hair, feeling oddly comforted as the familiar fragrance settled around her like an invisible armour. With one last admiring glance at her reflection, she left the room.

She had just finished descending the stairs when Mammy came hurrying down the hallway, her normally stoic face softening with a flash of pride as she took in the sight of Scarlett dressed in her green gown. 'Miss Scarlett! You is lookin' lak yo' ole self agin,' she said, her deep, melodious voice shot through with nostalgia. A small, sly smile graced her aging lips. 'Ah wonder if Mist' Rhett's got anythin' to do wid it!'

Scarlett frowned at Mammy's impertinence. She had always known too much for her own good. 'As a matter of fact, he hasn't. And even if he did, it would be none of your concern.' Scarlett replied haughtily.

Rather than being humbled by Scarlett's sharp words though, Mammy only narrowed her eyes like a bloodhound that had caught the smell of its quarry, 'Ah din' suppose you'll be sleepin' wid him again tonight, den, will you?'

Scarlett felt her jaw slacken at Mammy's words. She opened her mouth, fully intending to chastise her, when she caught sight of the gleam in Mammy's dark eyes. Scarlett had never had many girl friends, Melanie and Careen were the closest she'd ever come and even they would be sure to spurn her if they knew what she was truly capable of. But Mammy was different. Mammy knew her inside out and upside down. She knew all of her worst traits and yet loved her in spite of them. Looking into Mammy's wise, old face, Scarlett realised just how lonely she had become since her and Rhett had stopped being friends, how much she needed to talk to someone who not only understood her, but who would take her side no matter what.

With this in mind, Scarlett let her anger seep away. She gave Mammy a secret smirk, and said, 'I won't be going back to my bed if I can help it.'

The two women stood in silence for a moment, both revelling in the warm sensation of being conspirators once more, before Mammy broke the quiet to say, 'Ah is glad, mah lam'.'

Scarlett quirked her brow in momentary confusion. 'Really, Mammy, you've been trying to keep me away from Rhett ever since I first met him. Don't you go telling me that you like him now!'

Mammy's voice took on an earnest quality as she said simply, 'Chile, dat man is far from perfect, but dat din' mean he ain' perfect for you.'

Scarlett found herself at a loss for words, the truth of Mammy's words sinking in slowly but irrevocably. Her moment of enlightenment was interrupted, however, when the front door swung open and Rhett stepped into the hallway. Scarlett smiled internally when she heard his soft gasp of surprise at seeing her attired so elegantly. She turned so that she could see him out of the corner of her eye, enjoying the way his eyes were raking hungrily across her form as they'd used to do so often in the days of old. Once, she'd have been insulted by his actions. Would have felt cheap and indecent under his scrutiny. But now things were different. Now, his eyes on her body left her feeling nothing but desired.

Desired, and powerful.

Before she could put her newfound resolve into action though, Rhett expertly wiped the look of lust from his face, replacing it with an expression of steely determination. Scarlett shuddered slightly at the intensity of his gaze, wondering what had inspired such a change. As happy as she was to see him, she couldn't help but rue his bad timing. Supper was only ten minutes away, and Melanie was sure to be bringing the children back any second now. She had planned to speak to Bonnie before Rhett returned, hoping to convince her daughter to invite her and Rhett to share her bed again tonight. There was no chance of trying anything like that now. With Rhett in the house it would be far too risky. The man had the annoying habit of overhearing any conversation she wished to keep from him, and she could not afford to have him uncover her intentions.

Scarlett scowled. She would have to think of another plan, and quickly.

'Is there something wrong, my pet?' Rhett asked, approaching her.

'No,' she said, lifting her cheek up so that he could kiss it.

Rhett smirked slightly at the gesture, but a moment later she felt the soft scratch of his moustache against her skin. 'Only you looked troubled.'

'I was just thinking that you left it rather late to come home in time for dinner,' she said, cursing herself for baiting him when conflict was the last thing she wanted.

For once though, Rhett did not snap back. 'I'm sorry to have kept you waiting,' he said, sounding almost frightfully earnest. 'Usually you do not seem to notice my absence, let alone mind it. I had not the first inkling that it bothered you so greatly. I'll go upstairs to change, and I'll be back with you shortly. Do you think you can manage to get along without me until then?'

Though his words were sarcastic, his tone was teasing rather than jeering, and Scarlett's smile was more than a little flirtatious as she replied, 'I'm sure I'll find a way to survive.'

'I don't doubt it,' he murmured huskily, seeming to deliberately brush up against her as he walked past, heading for his bedroom.

As soon as she was sure that he had gone, Scarlett turned to Mammy and whispered, 'Will you help me?'.

Loath as she was to rely on others, she knew that Mammy would not judge her for it, and, besides, desperate times called for desperate measures.

'Of course, mah lam'' Mammy said, her eyes twinkling at the thought of being truly needed by her favourite charge once again.

'Will you see to it that we have a selection of cheeses for dessert rather than Dilcey's usual delicacies?'

'Whut you want ter do dat for?' Mammy asked, a frown darkening her brow, 'you know dey only gwine give you bad dreams.'

Scarlett smiled sweetly, 'Come now, Mammy, you know better than to believe in those silly old wives tales! I have a fancy for cheese and you did promise you'd help me, so cheese is exactly what I'm going to get. Make sure there's plenty for Rhett and the children, too. You know how Bonnie loves cheese.'

Mammy's frown deepened, and Scarlett was sure she was going to put up a fight. Fortunately for both of them, the front door swung open and her children came running into the hallway, all yelling in an attempt to be the first to tell their mother about the day they had had.

Normally such behaviour would have given Scarlett a thumping headache, and she'd have scolded them sharply before sending them off to bother Rhett, but today they provided her with the perfect excuse to get out of an argument with Mammy, so she was more than happy to listen to their chatter.

Wade was just in the middle of telling her about how he and Beau had built an ant farm, his small, delicate face flushed with excitement at the rare attention his beloved mother was paying him, when Rhett came back down the stairs looking impossibly dapper in a dark suit and blue cravat.

Scarlett froze for a moment, drinking him in.

'Shall we all go to the table, my dear?' he asked, the corners of his lips twitching upwards as he stared down at her slightly stunned expression.

Dinner was an awkward affair.

Scarlett picked distractedly at her food, tasting nothing. She did her best to listen to the children's stories, but it was hard to concentrate whilst wondering whether Mammy would fulfil her earlier promise to help her or not. The trick with the cheese was a silly one, born out of haste and desperation. It probably wouldn't work, but Bonnie did have a penchant for the stuff, and Scarlett herself had always suffered from nightmares after eating it, so she could only hope that her daughter, so like her in other ways, would turn out to share this trait, as well.

Every now and again, throughout the interminable meal, Scarlett felt herself turning to stare at Rhett. It was an unconscious action, almost as if he was somehow capable of pulling her gaze towards him. Every time she looked over, she noticed something different. Sometimes it was his distractingly strong physique, sometimes the play of the candlelight over the broad ridge of his shoulders, sometimes the way the callouses on his large hands slid across the cutlery as he ate. Each new discovery made her pause, her stomach filling with something warm and molten.

She wondered why she's never felt this way before. It was not as if he had gotten any handsomer in the last few months. Indeed, if anything, the amount of time he was spending at Belles', drinking, and gambling and doing God knows what else, was gradually beginning to take its toll on him, rounding out his once sharp-featured face and placing a few grey hairs amongst his thick, black mane. Yet, these additions did not repel Scarlett. Rather they only served to endear him to her further, suggesting, as they did, a hint of vulnerability about a man who had always slightly intimidated her with the sheer force of his dominating physical presence.

Scarlett tried to be subtle when she looked at him, but it seemed that Rhett was alert to her silent scrutiny. Every time her gaze landed on him, his black eyes would leap up to her face with a curious, almost hopeful look engrained deep in their onyx depths.

At these moments Scarlett would flush red and hastily jerk her head away from her husband, scolding herself for acting like a lovesick fool and telling herself not to look his way again. But Scarlett's eyes had always been her own, untamed and free from the restrictions imposed on her by society, and sooner or later they always found their way back to Rhett as if pulled there by an invisible current that flowed from him to her.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity to Scarlett, everyone finished their main course and the servants came in to clear away the plates and bring out the dessert. Scarlett craned her neck as Mammy came in carrying a silver tray, and only stopped herself from sighing loudly in relief when she saw it contained cheese by an enormous act of willpower. There was not as much as she would have liked on the tray and she frowned at Mammy as the servant bent to place it on the table. Mammy, completely unrepentent, only shrugged lazily, as if to say that it was the best she could manage given such short notice.

Out of the corner of her eye Scarlett saw Rhett's forehead crease as, observant as ever, he took in the silent conversation between the two women. However, much to Scarlett's relief, he did not question the exchange nor the unusual choice of dessert and even took a large slice from the tray when it was offered to him. Seeing that there wasn't much to go around, Scarlett declined the cheese when it was her turn to be served. If her flimsy plan was to work then Bonnie would need to eat a substantial amount of the stuff in order for it to have the desired effect.

Scarlett frowned when Wade took a bigger piece than she would have liked and when Ella went to follow suit fear made her speak out harshly. 'Ella, don't be such a glutton!' she scolded sharply. 'You'll never fit into your dresses if you keep eating so much. Leave some for your sister. She's a growing girl, so she needs more than you do.'

'Scarlett!' Rhett admonished as Ella turned bright red and hastily tried to return the cheese to the tray. In her panic, she ended up dropping most of it onto the carpet, her small face crumpling up in mortification as hot tears flooded her lower lashes.

A flash of remorse spiking through her, Scarlett turned to face Rhett only to see that all of the gentleness that had graced his countenance during dinner had fled during her cruel rant, to be replaced by swiftly-rising anger. Ashamed of herself, but unable to explain the true reason behind her outburst, Scarlett could only duck her head under the heat of his glower and mutter a quick apology to her daughter.

Feeling that she had made a fatal mistake by lashing out, but unsure of how to correct it, Scarlett could only watch on as Rhett expertly soothed Ella, generously giving her his cheese, while Bonnie greedily guzzled down the remaining slices in record time.

After everyone had finished, Bonnie asked Rhett if he'd play with her in the nursery. Rhett, ever the mediator, tactfully replied that he had just heard of an excellent game that they could all play together. Wade and Ella's faces lit up at being included and Scarlett felt a dull pang deep in her chest at the sight of them smiling so confidently and unabashedly at their step-father when they could hardly bear to look her, their own mother, in the eye. She knew it was her own fault, her performance tonight had made that painfully clear, but it still hurt to admit it. She feared that even if she were to try and act more kindly towards them in future, it would not be enough to change their opinion of her. Perhaps it was already too late. Perhaps too much damage had already been done for them to ever truly come together as a family.

With a heavy heart she rose from the table and made her way to the door. She was surprised when she heard Rhett calling after her.

'Why don't you stay and play with us?' he asked. He was no longer angry, but his face had reverted back to its usual closed off state, void of the emotion he had tentatively let her see earlier in the evening.

Scarlett was about to agree when she saw Ella and Wades' faces fall slightly at the suggestion and she realised that their fear of her would prevent them from truly enjoying the game if she participated. Remembering her earlier vow, she decided to put their happiness before her own desire to prolong her time with Rhett.

She shook her head. 'I'd like to, but I've got a bit of a headache. I think I'll go to bed, and rest.'

Rhett nodded curtly at her decision and turned back to face the children without a word. Hurt by his silent dismissal, Scarlett nervously cleared her throat.

'Rhett,' she said making him swivel back to look at her. 'I really would have liked to. I think the children would have more fun with just you tonight, though.'

Rhett nodded slowly, clearly surprised by her candour. He stared at her as if he barely recognised her, as if he was only just now seeing her again after months of perpetual blindness. She was't completely certain, but she got the sense that he liked with he saw.

Confident that he understood her reasoning, Scarlett walked out of the dining room and headed upstairs to the very bedroom that mere hours ago she had sworn to herself she would never sleep in again.

It was some hours later, just after Scarlett had finally managed to shut her brain off and fall asleep, that she was rudely awoken from her slumber by the sound of someone screaming. Dazed and disorientated, Scarlett sat bolt upright in her bed, the sheets tangling themselves round her limbs like clammy, grasping hands, holding her in place. She narrowed her eyes as she eagerly scanned the room, hoping to see her daughter's small frame appear out from amongst the shadows, only to come up disappointingly empty. She lay back, reluctantly resigning herself to the fact that Bonnie had not come to her as she had the previous night. Either she must have imagined the scream, or her daughter needed only Rhett, tonight.

She was about to close her eyes again when a shrill cry of 'MAAMMMAAAA!' resounded throughout the house, tearing through the dead air of her bedroom and making her heart leap in joy. A smile broke out across her cheeks, stretching her lips almost to the point of pain, as she clumsily leapt out of bed, almost falling over in her haste to reach her daughter. She raced to the bedroom door and tore down the corridor towards Rhett's room, flinging away her pride and reserve in her rush to be enveloped in his embrace once again.