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.

The following morning they slipped the diligent chaperonage of Suellen and went to the bank of the Flint river for a picnic. They sat close together and watched the muddy water flow by.

"Only two more months before we're married," Wade stated.

"I know." She said sighing happily.

"Are you sure you want us to set up housekeeping with Aunt Pittypat?"

"Absolutely. It will relieve Miss Wilkes, and your mother, too. And besides, your Aunt Pitty will be my Aunt Pitty. You don't know how good it will be to be in a family again. I've been so alone..."

Despite a pathetic note in her voice that touched his heart, he continued in the same vein. "But you've worked so hard for the Meades."

"They've been very good to me."

"Yes. They have. But all the same, I didn't ask you to marry me just to plunge you into even more work and toil."

Marybeth laughed. "I could never be a lady of leisure. I'm too restless for that. And besides, it will save you having to spend money on a house."

"Marybeth! Is that what this is about? I assure you, I can afford to build us a house. Uncle Henry left me enough. And what good will money do if I can't make your life easier?"

She smiled and lay her head on his shoulder. "I want to be part of your life and part of your family. Aunt Pitty's house is fine. And besides, didn't you tell me that it's actually your house--yours and Beau Wilkes'?"

"Fine. I'll indulge you in this whim of yours," he said affectionately. "But if I think you're working too hard, I'm fully prepared to build you a house and remove you by force if necessary."

Marybeth giggled at the idea of Wade removing her by force. "Agreed."

He put his arm around her shoulder and they gazed over the Flint in silence for a space. "This afternoon we must go to Fairhill."

"Isn't that where Jim and Beatrice Tarleton live?"

"Very good--you remembered! Anyway, I have some business to conduct with Mrs. Tarleton. To coin a phrase, I have to see a lady about a horse."

"Stop talking in riddles. What do you mean?"

"You need a saddle horse of your own. We're going over to get you one."

"Now Wade, you know I can't accept such an extravagant gift from you."

He grinned at her. "You women-folk have rules for everything. Never fear, I wouldn't dare give it to you until after our wedding. Then you won't have to keep borrowing Mother's horse."

"It's so beautiful here," she said, "So peaceful. I wish we could stay here forever."

He turned then, pulled her closer and kissed her, capturing her lips, delighted how perfectly they fit his. Seized by a sudden impulse, and without breaking their contact, he pushed her gently back onto the blanket, cradling her in his arms as he did so. He kissed her more firmly then, parting her lips, and his breath caught when he felt her take his head in both her hands, running her fingers through his hair. He left her mouth, trailing kisses along her jaw, her throat, her collarbone.

Marybeth trembled as she felt that familiar sweet yearning, tinged as it was with a faint anxiety. Ignoring the anxiety, she lifted her head slightly and brushed her lips against his ear, and whispered some endearment to him.

Wade's response was immediate. With a moan, he pressed her to him strongly, found her mouth again, and moved his hand caressingly over her hip, her waist, her stomach. But when she felt him move his hand higher, her anxiety blossomed into fear. With one mighty shove she pushed him away and rolled out from under him, sat up quickly and put her face in her hands.

In an instant he was beside her, but careful not to touch her.

"Marybeth," he said--his voice was ragged. He took a deep breath and began again. "Marybeth, forgive me. I didn't mean--I'm afraid I got a bit carried away. It won't happen again."

Marybeth nodded quickly, but didn't look at him, too overwhelmed to speak. But little by little her shaking stopped. "It was my fault," she whispered. "I shouldn't have done that--thing--whispered in your ear like that."

He blushed and looked away. "You know I love you and respect you..." he started.

"It will be different after we're married," she said, looking down. "It won't matter--I won't stop you when you..." She broke off, embarrassed.

They lapsed into silence for a while. Then he took her hand, kissed it. "I don't...repulse you...do I?" He asked low.

Marybeth remembered the yearning that threatened to carry her away and looked down, red faced. Some people claimed that women were incapable of wanting that way. Or at least that no lady would admit to it. But ladylike or not, she wanted him today, and in two months she would be his completely. But how could she explain the fear that was so entwined with her yearning?

"You don't repulse me, Wade," she whispered. "I long to be your wife. But for now..."

"I understand," he said gently. "We had better head back to the house before they come looking for us." He stood up and helped her to her feet. They folded the blanket together and tucked it under the handle of the picnic basket. He carried the basket in one hand, and Marybeth took his other arm demurely, walking by his side. He really though he understood the delicacy and modesty of his bride. And in part, he did. But there was that other part...

That night sleep eluded Marybeth. Long after she heard Susie's even breathing, indicating sleep, she crept to the window seat and sat with her arms flung round her knees, looking out over the rolling fields of Drogheda and remembered back to when her Edward was conceived...

It had all started innocently enough. Miklos Varga was a boy Marybeth had grown up with. He was her best friend. They used to play together, challenge each other, race horses, climb trees--always trying to outdo each other, but theirs was a friendly kind of rivalry and they defended each other fiercely against outsiders. And as long as they were children, nothing could disturb their friendship.

But then they started to mature. Marybeth was exceedingly innocent of boy's natures despite her friendship with Mik. She hadn't paid much attention to the changes that were happening to both of them as the years rolled by, but Mik was...

One day he came to the realization that merely looking at her caused him to have strange new feelings. Shortly after that he realized that her casual, innocent touches were causing the same reactions. He pulled away from her a bit, to her hurt bewilderment, and spent more time with the other boys, listening to their talk--and not all of it was innocent. He was becoming more informed about life than she.

But he continued to seek her out, they still played games together. Only he started to crave her touch. He would casually take her hand when climbing up into the hills or helping her over streams. But Marybeth never noticed anything different in his demeanor towards her and was too untouched by life to put any romantic interpretations on it.

Then one hot summer day when she was fourteen, on the day before the new school year was about to start, he brought her up into the hills to shoot rabbits. It was something they used to do quite frequently. Across their favorite trail lay a rather large tree which had fallen in a recent storm, and he helped her over it. When she was safely on the other side, rather than letting her go, as he usually did, he pulled her closer and kissed her.

Marybeth was startled and surprised, but pleasantly. She had no romantic feelings for Mik, but he was familiar and she liked him, and it felt warm and cozy to be held this way. Suddenly she had a flash of insight--this was what the other girls meant when they whispered to each other about courting. This was why girls made themselves pretty for the boys they liked. This is what they were after!

She slid her arms around his neck and kissed him back, giving herself over to the pleasant feeling of being held. But then his kisses became more insistent, his hands intrusive. That was enough for her--Marybeth was finished. She tried to push him away, but he wouldn't allow it. He was bigger and stronger than she was; they were no longer evenly matched as they were in their childhood. The more she fought, the tighter he held on her and in the end she was unable to fend him off...

When it was all over, she sat up, unhappy and deeply dazed. As if in a dream, she adjusted her clothing, brushed off the dirt, tried to pick the twigs and leaves from her hair. Mik was talking to her, but through the buzzing in her ears she barely heard what he said. He reached out to pluck a twig from her hair but she batted him off and he pulled his hand away.

They were walking back down the trail, and Miklos was still talking about something. Then one thing he said penetrated the fog she was in. "I'm sorry."

She was filled with rage at that moment. She reared back and punched him in the stomach as hard as she could. While he was doubled over with pain and shock, she took off down the trail like a shot and darted around a curve where he couldn't see her. When she was positive he wasn't chasing after her, she veered off the trail and fought through the underbrush to arrive at a clearing by the stream where there was an overhanging boulder that made a little cave. She crawled under the boulder then and sat, for how long she didn't even know, arms across her stomach and watching the stream roll by, crying with pain and revulsion and shame the whole time. She wasn't entirely sure what had just happened, but she knew without being told that it wasn't a story she wanted to have get around.

Her menses never came that month...

Hope you're enjoying it so far…because the end is near!