Disclaimer: 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.

A/N Thanks again for the reviews--they really keep me going!

Rhett returned to the mansion, still mulling over his conversation--his normal conversation--with his wife. And reluctantly he had to admit (but only to himself, of course) that he was looking forward to seeing Scarlett that night--if for no other reason than he was curious to see how long this new mood would last. Or, indeed, if it would still be there at all when she came home.

It touched him to see Scarlett and Ella together, Scarlett teaching the girl how to take care of the older lady. It was an ordinary domestic scene, the players could have been any mother and daughter in the world, but this was Scarlett Butler--his Scarlett--unselfconsciously taking care of Pittypat and mothering Ella. Rhett was no fool--he knew very well Scarlett had little love for the old lady--but once more, she had jumped into the breach and taken on the responsibility for another person's welfare. Just like she had done for her family and Negroes after the War, rather than breaking them up and sending them to relatives to care for. Scarlett might grumble, she might give to others rather ungraciously, but to Rhett's mind it was better than the hypocritical but kindly excuse-finding that too many other people did--Oh dear, I couldn't possibly right now, so busy you know, and anyhow I wouldn't know what to do--all the while smiling sweetly.

He went to his room (ignoring Atlas who was lying in front of Scarlett's door--he growled low in the throat when he saw Rhett, but made no threatening advances) to check that Pork had unpacked his things properly. Of course, this was a completely unnecessary task, for Pork had taken care of Gerald O'Hara's needs in life, then became Rhett's body servant when he married Scarlett--but it gave Rhett something to do. As he rummaged through his bureau, he thought he heard footsteps in the floor above him. Common sense told him it was probably Prissy cleaning the ballroom, but he was bored and decided to investigate.

Rhett climbed upstairs to the wide-open room and to his annoyance found the noise was coming from Wade and Marybeth, who were dancing to a tune coming from a little music box sitting on the piano. He was holding her rather more closely than was strictly necessary for a waltz and it wasn't lost on Rhett that Marybeth wasn't putting up any resistance.

Rhett made his presence known immediately and the two broke apart. To the girl's credit, she had the good breeding to blush and look embarrassed. However, it annoyed Rhett to see that Wade was still courting that girl. He really needed to talk to Wade about the dangers of fortune-hunting women.

Wade, seeing Marybeth's embarrassment, decided to take her home and Rhett was left alone in the mansion.

Where he waited. And he waited. He paced the floor, but Scarlett didn't come home. When suppertime came, Cookie asked him timidly if he wanted her to make a tray for him, but he refused. He poked his head out of the door to his room some time later when he heard voices in the kitchen, but it was only Dilcey returning from the Wilkes'.

Still no Scarlett.

Around eight o'clock, the front door opened and he poked his head out again. It was only Ella. She ran up the stairs and kissed him good night. "Cousin Beau drove me home, Uncle Rhett."

"Where's your mother?"

"Helping Aunt Pittypat," answered Ella, rather surprised at his ridiculous question. Then she disappeared into her room.

At this, the worm turned. If Scarlett couldn't have the decency to come home when she knew he was there, he wouldn't be home when she returned. He roared for Pork to hitch the carriage and he drove himself out to Belle's.

Dear Belle! She must have already eaten supper, but she gave no demur. She had supper sent up for the both of them and ate with him and kept the whiskey flowing. And when Rhett pulled her into his embrace, she was soft and yielding. But then again, Belle never said no to Rhett.

Despite his ire against Scarlett, or maybe because of it, his and Belle's union was rather perfunctory, and afterward he propped himself up, leaning against the backboard, and smoked a cigar as he stared into the darkness.

Belle rolled onto her side and pretended that she was asleep as Rhett smoked. Not a word had passed between them about Scarlett or the children. But Belle knew that somehow, in some way, Scarlett had gotten under Rhett's skin once more. And this time, to her dismay, Rhett wasn't trying to find a way to get her out.

oOoOoOo

After her brief encounter with Rhett, Scarlett returned to Aunt Pittypat's bedside, helped Ella bathe her and afterward sat with her. But all the while she was assailed by self-doubt.

All these days she had been preoccupied caring for the old lady and hadn't had time to prepare for Rhett's arrival. Not that she usually knew when Rhett was about to make his appearances in Atlanta--he liked to show up unannounced. But she kept herself ever ready in her mind, steeling herself to see him, just in case. She had a dread of being unprepared for him. To her, being unprepared meant being vulnerable to his coldness and verbal jibes.

But when Rhett showed up in Aunt Pitty's doorway, of all places, Scarlett reacted without thinking. She took charge of the situation as she saw it. But now she feared she was too bold and forward towards him. She had utterly abandoned the airs and graces of a great lady that she affected ever since the night of Melanie's death. Now she was afraid she had put herself at his mercy.

It never occurred to Scarlett that Rhett wasn't looking for airs and graces. Melanie had had few affectations, but what Rhett had admired about her was that her sincere compassion for the suffering of other people. Melanie wasn't "nice". Melanie was kind.

But Scarlett was never able to make these fine distinctions. Rhett had made it clear to her that he would not be chased the way she chased Ashley. Her smiles and joking could be interpreted as flirtatious, she worried, and she dreaded facing Rhett at home now. He knew she loved him, and was afraid he would take that knowledge and torture her with it. What guise the torture would take, she didn't know, and didn't care to find out. It could be coldness, mockery, maybe he wouldn't be there at all and she would come home to an empty house. Nonetheless, she didn't feel equal to being a whipping boy for Rhett. So she decided she wouldn't tell India she was leaving early, even though she was sure India would let her leave without complaint.

oOoOoOo

Rhett did return home that night a little after midnight. And it seemed Scarlett didn't return at all. Or if she did, she didn't look for Rhett too diligently. All he knew was that when he woke up the next morning, he hadn't seen Scarlett. Nor was she at the breakfast table. He didn't care to ask the servants where she was, so he hied himself to Aunt Pitty's. After all, he could use the excuse that he was visiting the old lady.

He arrived to see Mrs. Meade in conference with India Wilkes on the front porch, fans swishing, heads together, whispering.

"Go on in, Captain Butler," India said with jerk of her head towards the door. "The doctor should be finished with Aunt PItty by now."

So Rhett climbed the stairs to Aunt Pittypat's room, fully expecting to see wizened old Dr. Meade, and maybe Scarlett would be there, too. But to his surprise, it was a younger man, gray haired, but with a young, unlined face. Marybeth was with him, wearing a large white apron over her plain pink calico and she was listening carefully as he explained something to her while he put his instruments back in his black bag. She saw Rhett first, and startled and blushed a little before she murmured something to the man.

The new young doctor turned his head to the door, then stepped forward, hand extended. "Hello there, sir. I'm Dr. Grant, taking care of Miss Hamilton. What can we do for you today?" His manner was friendly, but it was clear he was in charge of the sickroom and would put Rhett out if he deemed he had no business being there.

"Miss Hamilton is my wife's aunt. I'm here for a visit," Rhett replied.

Dr. Grant glanced briefly at Marybeth as if for confirmation, and she nodded slightly as she reached behind her neck to untie her apron strings. She looked anxious to leave.

"Well then, pull up a chair." He briefly smiled at the old lady. "Miss Hamilton's coming along as well as could be expected--Oh, are you leaving us Marybeth?"

She nodded as she was hung the apron on a hook on the wall.

"I pressed this little lady into service when I saw she came along with Mrs. Meade," Dr. Grant continued in his booming, jovial voice. Then he put his hand on Marybeth's shoulder lightly. "Make sure you thank Mrs. Meade for me for letting me borrow you."

She nodded briefly at both men and took her leave. Rhett watched her go, his mind working rapidly. He had been quick to notice that the way Dr. Grant looked at her was quite similar to the way Wade looked at her. Marybeth didn't seem to return the doctor's fondness but then again, she wouldn't be stupid enough to jeopardize her courtship with somebody as wealthy as Wade for a flirtation with some struggling young doctor. But it was a pity for Wade--he would forever have to defend his rights from her admirers. Girls like Marybeth always seemed to attract that sort of attention. Wade would be better off with some plain Jane. It was another reason for Rhett to dislike her--he was more convinced than ever she was only after one thing.

oOoOoOo

After a brief visit to Pittypat, Rhett determined Scarlett was at the store, but he had too much pride to chase her down there. He went to the bank to fiddle with some papers, then when he decided he'd wasted enough time, went home.

Scarlett wasn't there, and Rhett had seen enough of his own room for one visit, so he went onto the back veranda and lit a cigar and chewed on it impatiently.

"Uncle Rhett?" Came the timid little feminine voice.

He turned around and smiled at Ella. It was obvious the girl had something on her mind. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and looked nervous. He felt sorry for her in that moment and held out his arm gallantly. "Why don't we go to the paddock to see the horses?" He suggested gently, and she took his arm gratefully.

They strode together through the back yard and still Ella said nothing. But he could feel her tension, the way her hand fluttered a bit in the crook of his elbow. Her head was down, face pointed away from him.

Then, without preamble, she came out with it. "Is-it-true-that-babies-start-from-mating-like-dogs-and-cats-or-Mrs.-Tarleton's-breeding-stallion-for-instance?" All in one breath.

Rhett was stunned. He expected some little confession about some minor peccadillo--Ella usually told him everything if he was home, rather than face Scarlett. He glanced down at her ginger head, but couldn't see her face, for which he was heartily grateful. Rhett marveled at the trick of fate that had thrust this conversation, unlooked for and unwanted, upon him, and wished he was anywhere else but Atlanta. The irony of it all! He, Rhett Butler, reprobate, roué, the man with whom no decent woman was safe! Rhett Butler, who had caroused with women of a certain reputation all his life, who had told and laughed over the coarsest of jokes and stories, and in mixed company, too! And yet, he was utterly unprepared for this blunt question from his innocent stepdaughter. To his horror, he realized he was blushing.

Desperate for release and stalling for time, he decided on an attack.

"Your mother doesn't allow you at Fairhill when Mrs. Tarleton's contracting a job, does she?"

Her face remained averted, but she gasped. "Good heavens, no! Cousin Susie and I sneaked over there one time."

"Whatever possessed you--?"

"Oh, it was ever so many years ago. Wade and Little Joe Fontaine were laughing about it once and we overheard. Then they wouldn't tell us what was so funny. But never mind about that, Uncle Rhett. Besides, you can't punish me now."

But Rhett, not anxious to get back to the question at hand, attempted to keep her sidetracked. "Oh? And why's that?"

"Because we were already punished--several times over. First Mrs. Tarleton caught us and blessed us out. Then she escorted us home in disgrace and Aunt Suellen took over from there. She hollered at us together. Then Uncle Will lectured us sternly. I think she would have taken a strap to us, but Uncle Will intervened and said we'd been punished enough. So then we weren't allowed to go any farther than the front porch for a week. Afterward, Mother punished me some more when I returned to Atlanta."

Good for Scarlett, Rhett thought. Who knew bringing up daughters was such a chore! And so many pitfalls! If poor Bonnie had lived, Rhett would have kept his Smith and Wesson oiled and at the ready at all times to defend her honor and reputation. Then he reproached himself. Ella was his responsibility, too. She became his responsibility when he married her mother. Maybe he shouldn't leave her to fend for herself at this delicate age. For as smart as Scarlett was about men, there were some things that were better for a man to handle. Better for a father to handle.

As ordinary as Wade and Ella were, there were times they amazed him. He thought back to when he'd taken it upon himself to explain the facts of life to Wade. The boy must have been about 12 years old and Rhett sat him down and told him everything. To his surprise, Wade didn't squirm or blush or grow sullen (when Rhett was a boy, he had done all three when his father had the talk with him). Instead, he listened intently, his expression serious, as if he were studying an extremely important lesson in school. When Rhett finished his talk, Wade sat back a moment, rubbed his chin, then leaned forward. "Uncle Rhett," he'd said, what does it mean when people say..." And with that he'd opened up and peppered Rhett with a barrage of questions and observations. Rhett found that despite his diffidence, Wade was very aware of the opposite sex and had already formed a preference (petite and curvy). He confessed that he felt clumsy and stupid around girls, even to the point that he couldn't bring himself to tease them like some of the other boys did. Some of his queries were quite astute--when he asked Uncle Rhett whether girls enjoyed doing "all that", it floored him. Rhett himself was all of thirty before he wondered or cared.

But he couldn't meander among old memories. He had to answer Ella's question. They were standing at the back paddock now, and she put her arms on the top rail and rested her chin on them. They still hadn't looked at each other.

"I shouldn't be telling you this. You should be asking your mother." But if Scarlett followed the lead of every other mother, she wouldn't talk about these things to Ella until the night before her wedding. Then he sighed. "First of all, mind your reputation. In other words, you wait until you're safely married."

Ella nodded and tried to be patient. After all, she already knew that. And this wasn't answering her question.

Rhett sighed again, looked away from her, and briefly explained married life. Thank the stars she was still too embarrassed to look directly at him! But he was certain she was blushing red.

"Of course," she faltered, when he was finished and she had stopped blushing. "I might just wind up an old maid and none of this will apply to me," with that she laughed nervously.

Rhett shrugged. And although he later wondered what made him continue talking, he said, "But marriage could be fun--if you marry a man you love. And make sure he loves you."

Marriage as fun? She had never heard that before. You married for love--that sweet, dizzy feeling you got for that one special man. Then you could live with him and have babies. And he would take care of you and the babies. And life together would be contentment and bliss. But if Uncle Rhett said it was fun, he must be right. She thought about Albert and the mistress he had kept and looked sideways at Rhett.

"Did you tell Wade to mind his reputation?"

Wasn't she finished asking questions yet? "I told him what he needed to know," Rhett evaded.

But he underestimated how nervous she was to ask him anything at all. It was a painful, embarrassing conversation, and when the worst of the tension was passed, she needed to relieve her feelings somehow. She chose sauciness. "I know what that means. Boys can do anything they like. Girls have to act virtuous. Not," she hastened to add, for out of the corner of her eye she saw Rhett glower, "that I will go wrong. But I do think it's peculiar how the world is like that."

"That, young lady, is enough." And abruptly Rhett ended the conversation.