Margaret Mitchell owns "Gone With the Wind" and all its characters. I own a handful of OC's and a story idea. Book-verse. Not "Scarlett" compliant.

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Marybeth woke up the next morning realizing she never found out who "won" their flirting contest. As soon as she could, she headed to the Butler mansion.

Jenny had slept over with Ella the night before, and when Marybeth joined them in Ella's room, they both turned to look at her when she entered. Jenny looked aggravated, and Ella looked embarrassed. Marybeth had a feeling she'd walked in on a lively discussion, if not an outright altercation.

"Did everybody have a good time last night?" Marybeth asked.

Ella and Jenny exchanged a look that Marybeth couldn't interpret.

"I just wanted to know who won the bet? Do you think your mother's tricks worked?" Marybeth asked, puzzled.

"Oh, Marybeth, never mind the bet..." Ella started to say as she wrung her hands.

Jenny sniffed. "Those tricks worked a little too well, didn't they?" Again she shot a look at Ella who gave her stare for stare before she blushed and looked away.

"I don't understand," said Marybeth.

Jenny looked at Ella, eyebrow raised. "Well then, you'll understand this; Ella let Frankie Bonnell kiss her last night."

Marybeth looked at Ella, surprised. Ella blushed but said, "Don't you scold me, too, Marybeth. I heard enough from Jenny."

"I wouldn't dream of scolding you," replied Marybeth mildly, as she sat down next to Ella. "But what about Albert Whiting? Isn't he your beau?"

"Oh, don't ask her about Albert," said Jenny with killing sarcasm. "No, wait, I take that back. Do ask her. You'll just love her answer."

"Jenny, hush," Ella said before looking at Marybeth. "Albert's a wonderful beau and I love him. Or at least I think I love him," she corrected herself. "I don't even know anymore," she wailed.

"But is he your beau?"

"I suppose he is. I think he cares about me. But he never asked me to save my lips for him, or to wait for him. Shouldn't he have done that? I would have waited, if he asked me, really, I would have. But do you know, in the nine months he's been coming around he's never once kissed me! Maybe I only think he cares about me."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Even if Albert weren't your beau, you still shouldn't be kissing just any man who tries. He'll think you're no lady and he won't respect you."

"Frankie respects me! He apologized and everything."

"That's what he said."

"Oh Jenny, shut up."

"Why should I? I'm just telling it like it is."

"Ella--Jenny--don't do this..." Marybeth interjected as she stood up. But she was ignored.

"Well, I don't want to hear 'like it is' right now, Jenny Whiting. And who asked you, anyway?"

"You did, when you told me how you betrayed Albert."

"Girls, please, don't," Marybeth pleaded, alarmed at the escalating argument.

Ella winced and looked away. Jenny pressed her advantage.

"If I had a beau who cared about me the way Albert Whiting cares about you, I wouldn't have gone looking for other diversions. You don't appreciate what you have."

Marybeth held up her hands, pleading, "Jenny..."

"Oh, why don't you go home?" Yelled Ella, stamping her foot.

"Ella, you don't mean..." tried Marybeth.

"That's the best thing you've said all day," retorted Jenny. With that she stormed out of the room slamming the door. They could hear her footsteps running down the stairs to the foyer, where her bag had been sent down, earlier.

Ella broke into tears, her defiant mood quite gone. Throwing herself face down on the bed, she cried stormily for a long time. Marybeth sat on the floor next to her, patting her back, very upset. She hated to see two friends fighting like this, so bitterly, but she didn't know what to say or how to mend their quarrel.

Finally, Ella sat up, face red, eyes swollen. She reached for her handkerchief and blew her nose. She looked the picture of tragedy as she looked searchingly at Marybeth. "Do you think I did the wrong thing, dallying with Frankie?"

Marybeth paused. Ella was in no mood to hear any correction. Privately, Marybeth thought Jenny had a point--a girl needed to command respect from her beaux and not look like she was easily caught. But at the same time, it was just a kiss--it wasn't necessary to make so much out of it. After all, it wasn't as if Ella were now expecting a baby.

"Well..." she searched for the right thing to say. "It isn't as if you were married to Albert..."

"But you don't approve," said Ella, looking at her narrowly.

"I think...if you really loved Albert...and he really loves you...then I don't know why you would even want Frankie..."

"I told you. I don't know if Albert loves me. Should I just wait here hoping some day he says the words I want to hear?"

Marybeth was starting to be sorry she'd ever come over. But she took a deep breath and plunged back in. "If Albert's the love of your life, then yes. You should wait."

Ella sighed. "I want to get married some day. I want to have babies. But I'm so confused. Sometimes I think Albert is the one for me. Sometimes I think I love him wildly. But then at other times...I don't know."

"Then maybe it's for the best that he didn't ask you to wait for him."

"But maybe if he did ask me, and I knew he loved me, it would be easier to know my own mind."

Marybeth wasn't sure it worked that way, but she didn't say anything.

"Do you think I should tell Albert about Frankie?"

"That's your choice, Ella. If he hasn't asked you to wait for him, maybe he doesn't expect you to wait. In that case, he may not even want to know."

"I just thought of something--if he doesn't want me to wait, maybe it's because he isn't waiting for me! Maybe he's up there at University sparking another girl! Somebody smarter and prettier than me, maybe."

Marybeth could only shrug helplessly.

"Marybeth!" Ella wailed. "You think it's true!"

"Oh, no--I don't think anything. Unless you ask him, you won't know. And it's rather unladylike to ask."

"Ooooh, you were no help. Now I'm more confused than ever."

"Sorry."

"Maybe I should just be a nun! My Aunt Carreen is a nun and she doesn't have to juggle beaux."

Marybeth couldn't help grinning. "Do you really think you're quite suitable for the convent?"

"You're laughing at me. No, don't apologize. You're right. I would make a poor nun."

oOoOoOoOo

A sharp, brisk wind was blowing in the afternoon as the girls watched the riders put their horses through their paces. They were sitting on the top of the split-rail fence, toes hooked under the second rail for balance. Ella sat on one end, then Marybeth, Virgie and on the other end Jenny. The atmosphere among the girls was strained because Ella and Jenny still "weren't speaking", even after a week and a half had gone by, much to Marybeth's and Virgie's distress, and despite their repeated attempts at reconciling the two former best friends. Ella had cried and Jenny had sulked, but they refused to even try to make up.

The paddock was set up as a jumper course and the young men were taking their horses over the obstacles, daring and challenging each other to faster speeds and higher jumps. The girls watched as they talked to each other, although the burden of conversation fell primarily upon Virgie and Marybeth.

Wade was riding his new horse, a lively, black three year old that he was attempting to train. But although he'd jumped it many times in practice, it was the horse's first time jumping in front of so many people. Just before the last fence, the horse balked, refusing to take the jump, swerving around it with a sudden movement instead. Affrighted, Marybeth put her hands to her mouth. On her right she heard Virgie gasp.

Wade, however, did not fall off. He trotted the horse in a circle before urging him into a canter. The second time he cleared the fence beautifully. Marybeth let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. On her left, Ella shrugged unconcernedly.

"You don't seem very concerned about your brother," said Virgie reproachfully.

"Wade? It would take more than that to throw Wade." Replied Ella, ignoring the way Jenny tossed her head.

oOoOoOoOo

"I just get so bored in Atlanta sometimes. I'd love to see someplace new for a change." Elsie was saying.

"And leave all your suitors behind?" Joked another girl.

Elsie sniffed haughtily.

"I daresay they'd still be here when I got back."

"Don't get too confident--out of sight, out of mind. Or that would be true of most of them. Although I concede that Wade would probably still be waiting for you."

Elsie laughed outright and there was no kindness in it. "If there's one suitor I can count on, it's Wade Hampton Hamilton...As if I couldn't catch somebody who is capable of stringing more than two words together at a time," she added contemptuously.

Marybeth, standing outside the bedroom door, was sickened as she listened to this exchange. Eavesdropping was contemptible, she was raised better than that, but she'd gone to the bedroom to check her appearance and when she heard the girls talking had paused. She didn't want to talk to Elsie and so she decided to wait her out. Marybeth hadn't meant to listen in. Well, not really.

And now she couldn't listen to any more. Marybeth stalked angrily away from the bedroom, eyes stinging, and paused beside a potted palm to calm herself. How she detested Elsie! Hated her arrogance and self-assurance and the cruel way she talked about people behind their backs. Marybeth had seen the look of adoration in Wade's eyes too many times when he looked at Elsie. It was too bad. Wade seemed like a decent person to her. At least he didn't deserve to be the target of Elsie's mockery. And beside, he was dear Ella's brother.

When she calmed herself enough to rejoin the party, she stepped into the parlor where Wade was talking to some of his friends. Marybeth remembered her own failed attempt to flirt with him not that long ago. But acting on a sudden inspiration, she made her way slowly around the edge of the room to where he was.

She stood quietly until he turned and noticed her. She smiled up at him, friendly, reassuringly.

"Mrs. Dandridge?" He said, blushing. Then with a shock he realized--this just might be his second chance! "May I pour you some punch?" He asked quickly before he lost his nerve.

"Yes, please," she answered, bemused. This was much different than the last time she talked to him.

She followed him to the punch bowl and waited while he poured a little cup for her.

"Mr. Hamilton, I just wanted to say," she said quickly as she took the cup from him. "I was impressed with how you handled that last jump."

He stared at her briefly as if the words didn't quite register. "But," he said slowly, "Coal didn't go over on the first try."

"I know, I know. But if it had been me," she grinned wryly, "I would have been on the ground."

"I didn't know you rode, Mrs. Dandridge," he said, almost forgetting to be shy in the face of his surprise.

It was her turn to blush. "Well, I never learned the right way--sidesaddle, I mean. I just took an old scrap of carriage blanket--but that was a long time ago."

"Surely you didn't take jumps?"

"Mr. Hamilton--if we were galloping along and something happened to be in our path, I certainly wasn't going to let the horse go over without me!"

"With no stirrups? No bridle?"

Marybeth grinned and shook her head.

"But how...?"

"Like this." After putting her cup down, she placed her hands in front of her in a pantomime of clutching the mane and at the same time she squeezed her eyes shut.

Wade was appalled. That was the most unsafe way of jumping he'd ever heard of. She was lucky she didn't break her neck. Putting his cup down, he stepped up to her and said, "It's much safer to do it this way." And he moved her hands into the correct position for jumping. "And always look at where you're going."

Startled, she opened her eyes. He looked so serious and the faintest little thrill went through her at the feel of his hands, warm and dry. She felt a bit relieved when he let go. And yet, it was fun talking to him about horses. There hadn't been anybody for her to talk to about this in so long.

Wade was picking up Marybeth's cup to hand it back to her when she saw Elsie standing in the doorway watching them, eyes narrowed. Marybeth only had time to raise her eyebrow at Elsie before taking her cup from Wade with a sunny smile.

Beau Wilkes noticed Wade and Marybeth's little side conversation and nodded to himself approvingly. He was surprised at how successful Marybeth had been at keeping a conversation going with his cousin. Of course, Wade was still thoroughly devoted to Elsie, but it didn't hurt for him to talk to other ladies, too. He needed to realize that Elsie wasn't the only girl in the world.

However, Beau was a lot less approving of Frankie Bonnell's attempts to get Ella's attention. What was he playing at, anyway? Everybody knew Ella was being courted by Albert. And it wasn't like Frankie to try to interfere in other people's love affairs. He preferred lighthearted flirtation to serious courting.

But it was true. Ella, who was going through agonies of embarrassment ever since she saw Frankie tonight, had gone to great lengths to avoid her former childhood friend. She was aware as she moved through the room that his eyes were on her, but she didn't dare look at him directly for fear he was thinking about how unladylike she was. And to her further sadness, she didn't even have Jenny anymore to help shield her.

So half the night was gone by the time Frankie caught her up. She had been talking to Virgie and her guard was down temporarily. When Virgie got up for some reason or other, Frankie slid into her seat.

"Don't go, Ella," Frankie urged as Ella looked as if she were ready to take flight.

"Good evening, Frankie," Ella murmured, blushing furiously and looking down at her hands folded demurely in her lap.

"Can I talk to you? Alone?"

Ella looked around her desperately. She didn't want to be alone with Frankie. She wanted to take back the other night, wished it had never happened.

"Please, Ella? Just for a moment?"

She looked around one more time then shrugged helplessly. He helped her to her feet and guided her out of the room and down a corridor.

"Wait here," he said, and poked his head into a room that seemed to be unoccupied. "Right here will be fine."

Ella preceded him into the room, but when Frankie tried to shut the door, she protested.

Frankie put his hands up, and grinned at her shyly. "All right, fine, I won't shut the door." But he walked up to her and looked into her face very seriously. "I've been trying to get your attention all night. Why won't you talk to me?"

"I think you know," she blushed.

"Do you mean about the other night?" He grinned again, sheepishly. "Was it really that awful?"

"Let's not talk about it," she said.

"But Ella, it's all right, really."

"Please, let's not talk about it."

Frankie was silent. This wasn't going the way he hoped.

"Is it Albert Whiting? You think you can't forget him?"

She looked at him imploringly.

"I'm sorry, Ella, I don't mean to tease. Would it help if I said my intentions are perfectly honorable? I know it's not gentlemanly to talk about it, but I really enjoyed...well, " he gently stroked her ginger curls, "I'd like to call on you. That is, if you would see your way clear to receive a man like me."

She stepped back confused. She didn't expect this. Jenny was sure Frankie would never respect her again, and deep down inside Ella was afraid she was right. "We've known each other since we were children. You don't need permission to call," she mumbled.

"Of course, I will respect your wishes, but Ella, are you engaged to Albert?"

She shook her head quickly.

"I really admire you, Ella. And you're right--we have been friends for years, haven't we? Do things really have to change now? Just because I lost my head that one time?"

"I just don't know," she said.

"Would there be anything improper in my calling on you? In our visiting in your parlor? With your mother at home and the servants?"

It seemed so reasonable the way Frankie said it. Ella couldn't see anything improper.

"You said you're not engaged to Albert...but if you don't want me to come I won't."

"You can call on me," she said, low.

"Oh, Ella," he said, moving close to her. She looked up at him, wondering if he was going try to kiss her again. She didn't like to admit it to herself, but she really had liked it when he kissed her. It had been her first kiss ever and even though she wasn't in love with him, she could see why people made such a big fuss about it. Unbidden came the wish that he would try it again. Then on the heels of that thought she felt ashamed.

He did kiss her, but on the top of her head. He really seemed to want to show that he respected her. But Ella sighed in confusion and annoyance. It all would have been so much simpler if Albert had only declared himself!