Again, thank you so much for your kind reviews. I promise there will be some interaction between the Butlers and their younger children soon. And maybe more pillow talk! But first, this somewhat difficult chapter, with several hidden and some obvious land mines. I hope I treaded gently. Let me know.

Rhett came downstairs shortly after seven, being in that stage of life where "sleeping in" becomes a concept finally resigned to memory. He found Rose had already risen before him, sitting on the bench in front of the dining room window, staring into the December fog that had descended upon the city.

"I thought you'd be sleeping late," he greeted her, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the tray Prissy had set out for him.

"I couldn't sleep at all."

Something about her pose gave him pause. He took his cup, and walked across the thick Persian carpet to join her.

"Is everything all right?"

She looked up, and then shrugged. "One of those sweeping questions of yours that have no answers. Is the earth still turning around the sun? I presume so. Are land and sea still in their usual place? That, too, would get an affirmative reply from me. But if you're asking if the inconsequential Rose Butler of Charleston is happy this morning, the answer would be no. Not that it matters in the grand scheme of things."

He almost smiled. "You surprise me. After last night, I thought …."

"Don't think, Daddy. It only makes things worse in the end."

But he did think after all – of the meetings that wouldn't be conducted, the papers that wouldn't be signed, and the partners who would be affronted if he missed this day at the office. Yet almost to his own surprise, he said: "I feel like doing something different today. I want to go have a carriage ride in the fog. Perhaps you'll join me? We haven't been able to have one of our talks for a while now, and I rather miss them. We could use the time to catch up."

He held out his hand, and after a brief hesitation, she nodded. He told James to send a message to his partners, and Jim, Cherry's brother, to hitch up the closed carriage. Rose grabbed her coat and walked over the soggy ground with her father, willing to be distracted by the sights and smells of the stables while the horse was being groomed and harnessed. Rhett excused himself briefly to check on his hunters.

After feeding a handful of grain to Shadow, Rose was watching Jim. He was roughly her age, a tall, lithe, and handsome boy, who favored his father as much as his sister did. His quick movements were smooth and firm as he ran the brush over the mare's coat. She tried to see if she could look at him as Thad must have looked at Tasha, and now Cherry ….. not as a servant, or even a friend, not as a childhood playmate and companion, but as a man. A man who could be her lover. It was a quantum leap, all the more frightening because she found herself standing paralyzed at that abyss, unable to cross it.

When he turned to smile at her, she found herself wondering if he had ever thought of her in such a way. They had grown up together, and she couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been in her life in some fashion or other. Had he…

The boy caught the inquisitive look in her eyes, and with an instinct as old as time understood its meaning. He stared back at her, and for the briefest moment, his eyes flickered with the same ardent flame as those of her lighter-skinned admirers. But just as suddenly, his face changed, becoming both abashed and frightened.

Instinctively, she reached out her hand, and laid it on his arm, trying to allay some unknown fear.

He pulled back as if she had scorched him. "Excuse me," he mumbled, almost stumbling in his haste to get away. When he returned with the harness, he refused to look at her again, leaving Rose confused and embarrassed.

She stepped back inside, hiding her head in Shadow's grey mane. He tried to nuzzle her neck, and she pulled on his ears, as she usually did. The tears that had refused to flow earlier in the morning finally stung in her eyes.

"Are you ready?" her father asked. She peeked behind Shadow's neck to see the mare had already been backed between the shafts. She stepped forward, and suddenly felt awkward about holding out her hand to allow Jim to help her into the carriage. He grasped it and pulled her up, firmly and impersonally, with the face of a man for whom this, in the grand scheme of things, was but a minor humiliation. And she winced.

~~oo~~

Rose settled back against the cushion, and the carriage jerked forward. The winter fog had become thicker. It felt as though the world were enveloping them in a soft, white, dreamlike cocoon.

Her father was studying her, and as usual, gave her time to compose herself.

"Did you ever think you'd be doing this with Bonnie"? she asked, suddenly.

She let her eyes fly up to catch the slightest hint of a sting, of withdrawal, but caught nothing.

"Riding in a carriage thought the fog?" he asked, smiling slightly. "Not really."

She shook her head. "No. I mean …..living in Charleston. Escorting her to balls. Bringing her out in society."

He turned the matter over in his mind. "In a way I did. At least, I tried to improve my tattered standing in society when I realized how much having a renegade for a father would affect her future. But to be honest, I didn't spend a lot of energy dwelling on what would be. My years with Bonnie were a time I actually enjoyed living in the moment." He looked at her thoughtfully. "I do remember thinking I'd take her hunting in Virginia and England when she was older. I don't know where we ultimately would have ended up. Perhaps we'd have stayed in Atlanta. It's hard to say."

"Is it still hard for you?" There was just a hint of bitterness in her tone.

He shifted slightly in his seat, but he did not try to evade the question. "Do I still miss her? Yes, every day. I don't think that will ever change. But if you're asking me if it's still hard for me that you're a girl, and look so much like her, the answer is …..yes, somewhat. But much less than before."

She accepted the verdict without flinching. "What was she like?" It was odd that, in all those years, she had never actually asked that question.

"She was …..high spirited, vivacious, stubborn. She loved to laugh." He stopped, his eyes became blank. "I still think I can hear her laughter sometimes. It was the gladdest, the sweetest sound. She was fearless, and so happy." His tone had become reminiscent. "I liked to think she was just like your mother. Or as your mother must have been, as a little girl."

"Perhaps. Mother's father had loved her, too." The reproof was barely audible.

"You're quite right." He, too, accepted her verdict of his failure.

She turned her head, and said softly: "She would be grown and married by now, if she had lived."

He looked at her, but said nothing.

"Did you ever think ….that she would marry Thad?"

"Why do you ask?"

"You took her to see him in New Orleans …... so I wondered…."

"My only thought at the time was that she would like to meet her cousin," he said, but an inquisitive look had come into his eyes. He smoothly shifted gears. "What happened, Rose? After seeing the two of you together last night, I felt sure that…"

She shook her head, her face covered with a mask that rivaled the blandest of his masks. "I don't want to talk about that. I want to know …"

He waited, the sound of the wheels and the fall of the hose's hoofs the only noise in a silent world.

"During your time in Atlanta. Things were not easy between you and mother." It was a statement, not a question.

"No."

"I want to know…when you gave up hope."

For the first time, he showed signs of discomfort. The cornflower-blue eyes of his small interrogator were watching him narrowly. "And don't even try to lie to me."

He laughed, an odd laugh. "The Spanish Inquisition, in my own carriage. How did you know, by the way? I can't believe your mother would have said anything."

She shook her head impatiently. "That will keep for another time. Just accept that I know most of the details of what happened. Tell me when."

He turned to the fog, as if the answer was hidden in the swirl. "I don't know if there was just one when. I felt the full impact of my foolishness after Scarlett had her miscarriage. She lay sick and in pain, but didn't call for me. Or so I thought at the time. That's when I started to close myself off from her. My decision to leave her was effectively made after Bonnie died. I felt there was nothing left of us – to hold me. I was just waiting for an opportune moment to make my exit."

"Was there a moment…. a thought….when you knew you had to give up? Something she said, or ….did?" For a brief second, she lost control, allowing the pain to seep into her voice. She took a shaky breath.

"It was a long time ago, Rose. But I believe that around the time of her fall, there were a lot of thoughts in my head that included the word "never". "This will never work." "She will never love me." "You will never find peace if you don't let go." So I did my best to harden my heart."

"Did it work?" She was regarding him keenly.

"Yes."

She smiled coldly, as if envisioning herself in possession of such serenity. "So you had peace."

"For a time."

"And then."

"And then, the matter of the murder happened, and I realized, albeit belatedly, that the time when I could have chosen to cut myself free had long past."

"If you could go back …. to that time when your lives hadn't been so entwined, when you still could have plausibly cut yourself free…..would you have, knowing what you know now?"

He thought for a long moment. "No. I don't think I could have. Because you see – I loved her already."

She barely breathed, waiting.

He ran a shaky hand through his dark hair. "Let me try to explain what I mean. You see, it wasn't just grief about Bonnie that made relating to you so difficult. Grief, and loss, I could have dealt with over time. It was always more complicated than that. " He stopped, trying to put something into words he wasn't sure a sixteen year old could understand. "I've never been good at loving…..moderately. Once I get started, it's akin to a destructive flood that wipes out everything in its path. Your mother and I barely came out of the maelstrom alive, and Bonnie ….well, Bonnie didn't. I could afford to love your mother again, because our shared past set up some…. barriers …that I thought would contain my love, and keep it safe. I had no such barriers with you. From the first time I saw you I knew I could have loved you just as….. immoderately as I had Bonnie, as I had loved Scarlett in the beginning. In a strange, twisted way I thought keeping myself away from you would keep you from being hurt like we were. Like Bonnie was."

He stopped, as if debating with himself whether to continue. But he did, as if the words came without volition, as if he were speaking to a priest at a confessional and not to a girl barely on the brink of womanhood. "The terrible thing is that I can't help feeling Bonnie would have been hurt even if she had lived. No good can come of a man loving his daughter like a wife. I don't mean to say that I… …what I mean is, I'm not sure I would have allowed her a life away from me, let reach her full potential as an individual. I fear I would have suffocated her with my love."

She looked at him, and for a silent minute, felt the entire weight of his burden. Then she shook her head. "No."

"No?"

"It would have been fine. She was strong, and happy. You wouldn't have corrupted her. She would have made her own way. Eventually, she would have married someone wild and ineligible to spite you, but been quite happy nonetheless."

"Do you think so?" He could have been amused, if she hadn't been so earnest.

"I know." Now she was the one who hesitated, but plunged bravely ahead, as he had. "I …can see things. About how events lead to each other, and what will happen in the future. It's not clairvoyance …. I don't believe in supernatural things, except maybe spirits. It's about cause and effect. Do you know what I mean?"

He nodded.

"It even works for things that ….didn't happen, because random events interfered. Like a riding accident. If you take the random events away, you can see how things would have gone. Not in detail of course, but in the big picture."

"How useful. So what about your future"?" he teased, trying to lighten the moment. "What do you see for yourself?"

She flinched. "It's hard to predict. It becomes ….. more muddled when my….. feelings are involved. I can't always tell my own wishes from reality."

He quickly leaned forward to kiss her dark head – affection was still hard for them. "I'm not sure why, but I do feel somewhat better. Perhaps you've just given me back the future. Or something to that effect." He could see his half-hearted attempt at levity fall flat.

"As for me," she said, with the strange, cynical smile she had chucked overboard in Galveston, but now miraculously retrieved. "I learned the inevitability of agony for those of us that love ….immoderately. So forgive me if I don't quite share your enthusiasm." After an inestimable moment, she spoke again. "Please take me to Grandmother's now."

He didn't react immediately. You want to be a way from the house when Thad wakes up, he thought. You want to run, like I always did when I didn't feel loved, when there were problems. When I should have stayed, and fought. Because I didn't tell you the whole story. I didn't tell you that while loving Scarlett might have been inevitable, giving up was a choice. My choice.

But he said nothing. After a moment, he ordered the carriage to turn.

~~oo~~

Their grandmother lived in the same comfortable brownstone a few blocks away from the Butler mansion, a house that she had occupied ever since Rosemary's marriage. Efforts by all three of her grown children to dislodge her, and convince her to move in with them, had met with no success. She had long ago started to forget many things, and she was comfortable here, amongst her pictures and her memories. A staff of loving servants saw to her comfort, and she was a favorite not just amongst her grandchildren, but of many of her friends' offspring.

"Here we are," her father said, after the carriage had come to a halt.

She nodded gravely. "Thank you for the ride."

Rose stepped from the carriage, and one look at Jim's face as he helped her descend told her their former, comfortable relationship had become the final victim of this accursed day.

Her grandmother was seated in a high armchair in her favorite sitting room, which overlooked the river. A white knitted blanket covered her lap. Her maid had set cookies and tea on the table by her side.

"Bonnie," she said brightly, when Rose entered the room. "How lovely that you're coming to see me."

Rose stumbled forward, and, kneeling down, put her head on the old woman's lap. Her body suddenly shook with weeping.

"There there, my darling little Bonnie," her grandmother said, in a soothing, sing-song voice, petting her head. "There there. It will all be all right in the end."