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.

Gotta hurry and upload this before the thunder and lightning storms start and melt my modem. More Rhett.

"Scarlett," Rhett said as he stood in the doorway of the room she used as an office when she was home.

Scarlett looked up from her accounts, startled. Unbidden came the thought, Well, well. Just see who wishes to grace me with his presence. But then she felt so guilty by the disloyal thought that she found it very easy to assume her "great lady" mask. There had been so many disloyal thoughts in the last year and a half. She was almost learning to live with the guilt.

"What is it, Rhett?" She asked as she gestured him to sit.

Rhett picked a chair near to the door. He was close enough to Scarlett for serious conversation, and far enough away to make a hasty exit if he chose. She knew that as long as she sat behind the desk he would stay and talk to her, at least until he was through with whatever he wanted to say. But let her make one movement as if she were getting up and he would leave abruptly. The thought came to her that it was like trying to catch a bird. You had to sit very quietly...

The thought was so funny that in spite of the ever-present heartache his presence caused, Scarlett wanted to laugh derisively at him almost as much as she wanted to throw herself into his arms.

Rhett sat and looked at his wife looking at him. It was clear from her face that she still loved him. He was certain that if he crooked his little finger she would come running. But it was also clear that in some indefinable way she was changing. And for the first time in many years he felt a little uneasy in her presence.

"What do you know about that girl Wade is courting?"

Of all the subjects Rhett could have opened with, that was the last one Scarlett expected and in her surprise her mask dropped momentarily as her eyes flew open and she gave the first answer that came to her.

"Marybeth? Well--I know he calls on her. They're courting in the Meades' parlor." She couldn't entirely suppress an amused grin at the thought. With Mrs. Meade's strict supervision, Wade would be lucky to even steal a single kiss from his ladylove.

Rhett chose to pretend ignorance of the entire situation. He asked, "What do the Meades have to do with this? I don't remember them having any girls that age in their family connection."

"They don't. She works for them--works with their Betsy, I believe."

"But she has children?"

"By her late husband, yes."

"Where is she from originally?"

"Someplace in the mountains, I think. Ask Wade, he knows. Or ask Ella."

Rhett was not pleased with the answers he was getting from Scarlett. He thought that she should know a bit more than she did about this girl who was beguiling Wade. It seemed to Rhett that Wade was getting himself into more complications than he was ready to handle.

Rhett himself had never minded the fact of Wade when he used to call on Scarlett during the War. He was fond of Wade and when Ella came along he was fond of her. He believed he had been a good stepfather to them. They had certainly never been a deterrent to Rhett's feelings for Scarlett. But then Rhett had been much older than Wade was now. He wanted him to enjoy his freedom for as long as possible. And besides, Scarlett's background was a well known fact, but nobody seemed to know very much about Marybeth.

He crossed his arms and frowned at his wife. "Don't you see what's happening here? A stranger sweeps into town, finds work in a respectable home, then proceeds to look around for a rich husband. It's obvious she's a fortune hunter."

Scarlett gave a little start of surprise. "Do you really believe that, Rhett?"

"You have to admit it's a possibility."

"Yes--I suppose--" Scarlett wavered uncertainly. "But she doesn't seem the type--I mean she doesn't show the least interest in our possessions or talk about money..."

"Of course she doesn't . Not now. Not until she ingratiates herself with everybody. And makes Wade fall in love with her. Or has it happened already? Is he in love?"

"Wade is hardly in the habit of confiding in me. But I think you're wrong, Rhett. I think they're just two young people who care about each other."

"And I think you should make sure of that before you allow this to go any further."

"Allow? Allow a grown man like Wade? If he's fallen for her, I really wouldn't know how to go about separating them. I don't even want to. Besides, I don't have any objections to her, what little I know of her. Of course if you're so worried about it, you could have a talk with him, give him some fatherly advice. But Rhett, " Scarlett put her pen down and looked at him with a little puckered frown. "If you object too strongly to Marybeth, Wade just might choose to take her side against you. Then you'll lose any influence you have with him."

Rhett looked at her a moment and a glimmer of surprise mingled with respect flashed over his face briefly. "Well, Scarlett," he drawled. "I'm surprised you have such an astute understanding of human behavior. And no, I'm not mocking you."

Scarlett shrugged and lowered her eyes. Every once in a while he would pay her a compliment, usually backhanded like that one. She used to try to read romantic intent into these statements, but she had learned through bitter experience that his compliments were no prelude to romance. Furthermore, any flirtatious move on her part would cause him to bolt right out that door. A pang went through her at the necessity of playing such ridiculous games with her own husband. But there it was. And she needed him to stay because there was something she had to talk to him about, anyway.

"Speaking of Wade," she said, as if they were discussing something as innocuous as the weather, "He's had his Grand Tour and he's gainfully employed. When are you going to have that talk with him?"

Rhett rose to his feet gracefully. "Before I leave Atlanta, Scarlett. Before I leave Atlanta."

oOoOoOo

Rhett sat down across the desk from Wade. He pulled open a drawer and rifled around the files until he found the one he wanted. He put it on the desk and shut the drawer. Then he patted the file and looked up at Wade.

"I called you down here to the Bank because there's something very important I need to discuss with you. When your Uncle Henry died a few years ago, he designated me to assume control of his estate until his beneficiaries came of age. Of course, that would be primarily you and Beau Wilkes. He set apart some money for Pittypat, but she received her share when he died. He also left a little something for Ella. He didn't leave anything to your mother, but I'm sure he decided she could take care of herself."

Rhett pulled out a pair of spectacles from his jacket pocket and put them on. The glasses were a concession to advancing age, and although he insisted to himself that he didn't care that his eyes were not what they used to be, he could never bring himself to wear them in front of Scarlett. He told himself that he didn't care what she thought, but he saw no reason to display any kind of decline or weakness to his wife.

Rhett selected a paper from the folder and shoved it across the desk to Wade. "This is what Uncle Henry left you."

Wade's eyes flew open when he saw the amount. "Uncle Henry left this? But how...?"

Rhett waved dismissively. "It's not as astounding as it seems. Henry Hamilton lived simply and made shrewd investments. But after his death I made some further investments and now that the years have gone by..." He pushed another paper across the desk. "This is what the total is today."

Wade whistled low.

"Uncle Henry specified that you weren't to know about this until you were out of school and gainfully employed," Rhett continued, unconsciously echoing Scarlett's words. Therefore I must insist you don't mention anything about this to Cousin Beau."

"No, of course not."

"You and Beau each also inherit one half of Aunt Pitty's house. Of course, she retains the right to live there until the end of her life--and that was stipulated in Uncle Henry's will."

Wade smiled. He understood why it had to be documented and legal, but he was amused at the idea that he or Beau would turn poor, ailing, forgetful Aunt Pittypat out on the street. It sounded like the premise of a bad melodrama.

"The reason Henry Hamilton didn't want you to know about all this right

away was because he was afraid your head would be turned by knowing how much money you had."

"He needn't have worried," Wade said scornfully. "I always meant to be a lawyer, just like my father. You understand."

"Indeed I do. But Henry had also seen enough examples in his lifetime of idle men of means and he had no intention that you and Beau would end up like that."

"He still needn't have worried about me. I have no intention of resigning my position or resting on my money. I intend to be able to take care of myself."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. But I still need to teach you how to manage this inheritance. Are you willing to learn?"

"You know I am."

"Good. I'll guide you at first, teach you how to recognize good investments and avoid bad ones and how to know when to sell out of investments that are going bad. Scarlett wanted me to have this talk with you sooner rather than later."

"Does Mother know about my inheritance?"

"Of course she knows," Rhett muttered.

Wade nodded, but his face was lowered, looking over the folder Rhett had handed to him. Acting on the impulse to test him, Rhett tossed out casually, "Your Uncle Ashley knows, too."

Rhett studied Wade closely. The younger man nodded, not looking up from the papers, acting as if that last sentence of Rhett's contained no more significance than anything else he said. But Rhett knew better. The signs of Wade's reaction were subtle, but unmistakable--a tenseness across the shoulders, a slight suspension of breath.

Damn, thought Rhett. Wade knows about Scarlett and Ashley--somehow he heard the rumor. But how long has he known? There was no use in confronting him, Rhett knew. Wade would go to his grave pretending he knew nothing about it.

Rhett had been speaking the truth--he really had met with Ashley Wilkes a few years back to discuss Beau's inheritance. It had been a strange interview, both men carefully keeping to the topic of Uncle Henry's legacy--an outsider might even have guessed that the two men never knew each other in any capacity beside business. They both avoided any reference to Scarlett, but the atmosphere had been charged with the things left unspoken. Melanie had already been in her grave for several years and Rhett and Scarlett's estrangement was an established fact. But fate had thrown the two men together again, if only briefly.

"What can I say, Uncle Rhett? Other than thank you?"

Rhett was dragged out of his reverie and he looked at Wade peering at him over the top of the papers.

"Well, it's time you learned," Rhett said a little roughly. "Eventually I'll turn it all over to you and you'll guide Ella's money until she marries and your mother's also."

"You've been guiding Mother's investments?" Wade was startled into saying, although he regretted it immediately.

Rhett didn't seem angry, although he looked at Wade sharply for a moment before answering. "Yes, Wade, I have been guiding Scarlett's investments."

It was the second time this visit that he saw how his stepchildren were becoming wise to the situation between him and Scarlett. Or had they always been aware of it and now they were merely beginning to express it? However the matter stood he was feeling rather irritated. But his irritation melted when he saw that his answer pleased Wade. The younger man was nodding at him with a little smile on his face.

Wade was thinking that it was odd that Uncle Henry would have left their welfare--Mother's, his own and Ella's--in the hands of Rhett Butler. Uncle Henry was related to Uncle Ashley by birth and they shared experiences and common beliefs and interests. But at the end of his life he entrusted his estate to Rhett. Had that been Uncle Henry's last bequest to Mother--a ploy to keep her estranged husband in her life--even tenuously?

Wade's smile seemed to signal the opening Rhett hoped for. Proceeding cautiously, he said, "I don't want to infect you with cynicism, Wade, but I feel I must bring up a rather unpleasant topic. I know you're not the type of person who would brag about being rich, but somehow people always manage to find out. Now you have to be careful about people who would play up to you only because they want your money. And unfortunately, unscrupulous people come in all shapes and sizes."

"I know Uncle Rhett, and don't worry. I'll be very careful about who I trust. I'll assume that any man I haven't known all my life is under suspicion." Wade spoke lightly although he knew Rhett was right. Wade had seen it for himself--how some persons made it their business to curry the favor of the wealthy. He thought it was contemptible.

Only it wasn't men Rhett was thinking about. He wanted to warn Wade about women like Marybeth. But he couldn't exactly come out and accuse her of fortune hunting without proof--Wade would never believe him without proof. But he hoped Wade would realize the danger he was in before it was too late.

oOoOoOo

"Aunt Melly--Cousin Beau's mother--used to bring me here when I was a just a boy. This," Wade pointed to a particular headstone, "is where my father is buried. My father was Aunt Melanie's brother, you see."

Marybeth nodded. She hadn't been entirely clear about the relationship between Beau and Ella until Wade explained it. She was standing with him in the Oakland Cemetery. Marybeth read the name on the tombstone to herself: Captain Charles Hamilton.

"He was a soldier in the War," Wade continued. "For years I thought he'd seen fighting, but he died in camp of pneumonia. But Uncle Rhett told me he wanted to fight." Marybeth noticed a trace of defensiveness in that last sentence. She merely nodded again.

"Come on, we'll head back." Wade said.

Marybeth crossed herself before she fell in with him. They walked slowly back to his carriage, hand in hand.

"For years I thought about being a soldier just like him. I still think about it sometimes."

"So why don't you?"

"Maybe I will someday. But I was away from home for five years between college and Europe. My wanderlust is satisfied for now. I like being right here in Atlanta." And he squeezed her hand gently before helping her into the carriage.

As she waited for him to climb in on his side, she turned her face up to the sun and enjoyed its gentle warmth. Spring would be here soon.

When they were out of the cemetery they rode on quietly for a few blocks--he seemed to be thinking deeply about something and she didn't want to disturb his reverie at first. But she shifted and sighed as she thought about the cemetery and his revelation about wanting to be a soldier. At her movement he turned to her and smiled.

"I'm glad I could show that to you, Marybeth."

She linked her arm through his lightly, so as not to interfere with his driving. "I'm sure you'll think this is very silly, but I always thought that the weather should be gloomy when one visits a cemetery. It just seems like it would fit better."

"Somehow, I think their rest remains undisturbed by trifles like the weather, no matter how much it affects us."

"Oh, that reminds me--I saw a crocus in the garden this morning. Today was nice, but pretty soon it will be warm all the time."

"When daffodils begin to peer,

With heigh ! the doxy, over the dale

Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year;

For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale," he quoted to her. "Shakespeare."

They were back at the Meades' house now, and she laughed as he swung her down from the carriage. "Do you have a quote for everything?"

"Not quite everything." He lifted one of her hands to his lips and kissed it. If he desired more from her than to kiss her hand, he was careful not to show it. He didn't want to frighten her off and anyway, the Meades' front door in the afternoon was no place for such tokens of affection. However, she was so dear to him and he thought her so pretty that it wasn't easy to wait. But Wade could be patient. If there was one thing life taught him, it was to be patient.