Thank you, lovely readers, for your thoughts, reviews, prompts and insights. This is such a wonderful, intelligent fandom. I learn something new every day.

For AnnaPanang, for WiwitDM, for ChrisOHB, and for the guests who wanted a Rose-Rhett flashback!

Warning: dark content ahead!

"You're going to get into so much trouble," Ella told her, a horrified expression on her docile young face. The two sisters were sitting in one of the elegantly furnished guest rooms of Thad's Houston town house, which he had offered for the use of Wade's family as they came to town for their son's wedding. Thad had, perhaps, been as surprised as anyone when Rhett accepted.

"So what," Rose now said, sitting on the day bed with the delicate embroidered coverlet, a dress flung over her knees. Her nimble fingers were engaged in taking up the hem. It was a lovely blue dress, a castaway of Ella's, that Rose had painstakingly adjusted to fit her own, much smaller frame. It was in perfect condition, as Ella was always very careful of her clothes.

"Daddy will…."

"I don't care what he thinks." The look on the face of the eight-year old was harsh, and cold. Her sister, already fully dressed, squirmed uncomfortably. Her ivory tulle dress befitted a maiden of her status, but off-white was not her best color, Rose decided, after a critical glance. Autumn tones – warm browns, dark mossy greens, soft oranges - suited her sister's complexion better.

Ella sighed. She was sixteen years of age, and her heart shaped face and reddish curls were not displeasing to look at, but she would never be beautiful. Yet she moved with an odd, composed grace, that would have put her elders in mind of Melanie Wilkes. It sprung from the same loving heart, and the same serene mind, unfettered by dark or ambivalent thoughts.

"But Daddy loves you, darling," she now said, sweetly, her gentle nature unable to grasp the complexity of the underground guerilla war between her adopted father and Rose. It did not consist of words, and rarely even of visible outbursts. It was a war of omission, and of silence.

Her younger sister, whose pristine, even features heralded future beauty, smiled with derision. "And Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny will visit us for the Fourth of July." She gave the hem another determined stitch, and continued, "you know he's never cared a whit about me."

"Rose!" Ella cried, horrified, bringing her palms to her flaming cheeks. "You mustn't say such things." As with most girls of her generation, disrespecting her elders felt akin to sacrilege.

"Why not? Cousin Thad says I can say whatever I like - as long as it's true."

Ella sighed again, dropping her hands back into her lap. She was happy her younger sister had such support in their cousin, but she feared, at times, that they stoked each other's antagonism for their father.

"They might become mad at me," Ella murmured, almost cleverly, in what amounted to a last, desperate attempt to make her sister reconsider. "After all, it was my dress."

That had the effect of making Rose look up, and for a brief moment, Ella allowed herself to hope she had dissuaded her sister from her plan. But then Rose shook her head. "No. He'd never blame you." Which was true enough. Rhett was as protective of, and tender with, his adopted daughter as he was cool with Rose.

Ella exhaled. Perhaps their father wouldn't mind so much, she tried to console herself. After all, it all happened such a long time ago. Rhett never spoke about Bonnie. And he had three sons now, in addition to his stepchildren, and Rose. Ella had only very vague memories of Bonnie; memories that were intertwined in rather unjust and troubling ways with their life in Atlanta, and all of its associated sorrow. Had she been more discriminating, she might have attempted to excise her sister's image from its surrounding grief, to which it did not, in reality, belong. As it was, Bonnie's small form stood encased with Rhett's drunken rages, and Scarlett's vocal, visible unhappiness. It stood with the sensation of being bereft and abandoned, by her maternal friend, and then by the man she loved as a father. It stood by loneliness, and fear.

Ella's sweet nature had covered up that time as in a blanket of snowflakes, but there remained a nagging feeling, more instinct than analysis, of having left a small ghost behind - unacknowledged, unremembered, and alone in the dark.

Ella now shook her head with determination, attempting to push the morose thoughts away - to think, instead, of the cousin that had arrived a mere few days ago from Charleston. Chase Thornton. She had not dared to say much to him, but he had smiled at her, and it had not made her nervous, in the way it usually did when boys attempted to pay attention to her.

He was …. nice to look at, Ella decided. He reminded her of Wade, with his soft brown hair and brown eyes. She wished, suddenly, that he lived closer. She wished to see more of him.

"There," Rose said, placing the final few stitches, and surveying her handiwork with a grim satisfaction. She held the dress against her body. "Now help me put it on."

Ella, used to being ruled by wills stronger than her own, rose glumly to comply.

~~oo~~

Rose timed her entrance perfectly, when everyone had already assembled in the hallway to await the arrival of the carriages that would take them to the Church. She slowly descended down the wide staircase, her thick, black hair parted in the middle, cascading down her back like a priestess' veil. Sunshine fell through the high windows above the front door, and bathed her lithe little figure in an otherworldly light. The blue velvet fabric caught her eyes, and made them sparkle like sapphires.

A sudden hush fell on the crowd. Rose was as the living embodiment of the life-sized portrait of Bonnie that hung above the fireplace in Rhett's library in Galveston. Scarlett wanted to cry out, but no sound emerged from her suddenly constricted throat. Rose paused dramatically on the landing, her defiant eyes seeking out her father. It was clear that she did not expect him to make a scene in front of so many people.

Merely a heartbeat later, he had proved her wrong. The vulgar curse that escaped his lips cut like a whiplash through the assembly, and with a few steps, he bound up the stairs to the landing. His strong, cruel brown hands gripped the back of Rose's dress, and tore it apart in an irresistible, sheering motion. The ripped fabric fell on the steps, and started to slide down the stairs. Its long sleeves dragged behind, like the falling body of a child. It came to rest in a pool at the bottom of the stairs with barely a ripple. The red sash remained on the last step, like a deep stain of blood.

Another groan went through the crowd. This time, it was akin to a sob.

Rose, whose face had become even more colorless, remained mute, as if her voice had flowed from her with her dress. Her exposed underclothes seemed to enhance the pallor in her skin, relieved only by two bright red spots on her cheeks.

She finally turned around, as if with an immense effort, and walked slowly back up the stairs. Her narrow shoulders quivered, as if she were bearing a crushing weight.

Thad, who had appeared at the top of the staircase, took in the scene from above. Rose's face. Rhett's own visage, filled with regret and horror at his own impulsive actions. Thad wordlessly swept the little girl into his arms. Over the top of her curls, his hostile black orbs made contact with her father's. Another one of us you have betrayed. Then he turned, and walked back into the hallway to her room.

Scarlett, who had been frozen to her spot, suddenly found her voice. "Oh Rhett," she cried, senselessly. He was still standing motionlessly where Rose had left him, in the middle of the stairs. James had walked up to join him, talking softly to him in a low voice.

"Mother," Wade said, helplessly. He was the epitome of the handsome bridegroom in his dark suit, his starched white shirt, and his gleaming, soft brown eyes. The happiest day of his life, Scarlett thought disjointedly. That thought propelled her into action as nothing else had. She quickly bound up the stairs, up to her still immobile husband.

"Take him to his room," she told James, softly, giving her husband's arm a light tug for emphasis. He stared at her with unseeing eyes, but allowed himself to be propelled forward. James walked beside him into the upper hallway. James would take care of Rhett, Scarlett told herself. Thad had taken Rose to her room, and would calm her down better than anyone else could.

Now for the others. She sprung back down the stairs, her sense of purpose adding lightness to her steps. She first addressed her son, who stood quietly, awaiting his orders.

"Wade ….take Ella and Chase and Uncle Henry and Aunt Emma and go with the first carriage. It won't do for you to be late at the Church. The rest of us will be there shortly." Her eyes fell on Rhett's nephew. He was shy, but seemed perfectly sensible. Uncle Henry was getting on in the years, but his wife was a resolute woman, and could be trusted to hold things together.

"Don't worry, my dear," Emma Hamilton said, gently. "We will get them all to the Church safely." She knew nothing but death would prevent her husband from watching the last male of the Hamiltons be married today, a day he had long anticipated with glee.

Scarlett smiled gratefully at them. She watched the first group leave, clearing the entryway of people. The Walkers would bring Phoebe to the Church from her uncle's townhouse. Thankfully, they all still had plenty of time.

The two Fontaines, and Belle Watling, had remained behind. Belle was dressed in a simple brown dress, her reddish-white hair piled up in curls on her head. "What do you need us to do?" Jane Fontaine asked softly. Belle nodded her support. Even though she had retired from her former profession, she was still much too shy to speak up around respectable people.

Tony merely looked sad, and helpless. Joseph, their six-year old son, clung to his mother's skirts, attempting to hide his head. They had adopted him from an orphanage as a two-year old, along with his infant sister, who had remained behind with her nanny. Joseph was still uncomfortable letting Jane out of his sight, as if fearing she, too might vanish one day, like his biological mother.

Scarlett exhaled. "Thank you." The Fontaines had become close friends ever since their move to Galveston. "Belle – if you would be an angel and check on the boys for me?" Belle smiled, and quickly turned to go to the nursery. She adored her son's little cousins, although she did not get on quite as well with Rose. "And Jane - we had promised to pick up Wade's partner and his wife with one of our carriages. It would help if you and Tony could go pick them up, while I settle down Rhett, and get Rose into a new dress." She added, disjointedly, "I'm almost glad the Wilkes couldn't make it due to India's illness, because what a mess that would have been, on top of everything!"

Tony put a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Rhett doesn't doubt your affection, Scarlett."

She smiled at him, gratefully. "I just wish…."

His hand tightened. "I know. So do we. Now go to him, and calm him down. It won't do to have him fall apart before the ceremony. We'll pick up Wade's partner. Jim knows the address, yes?" At Scarlett's nod, he prodded her gently up the stairs.

~~oo~~

In the safety of the guest room, Rose had began to sob.

"It's all right," Thad murmured, holding her close, petting her damp wild curls like a puppy's fur.

"I hate him," she whispered, passionately, against his chest. "I hate him more than I hate anyone."

"I know," he said, evenly. He made a sound, almost like a laugh. "I'm not terribly fond of your father myself." He took out a handkerchief. "Blow your nose like a good girl."

She blew, audibly.

"Was it a blue dress?" He tucked an errant curls behind her ears. He had been too late to see more than the corpse of its former glory.

"Yes," she said, defiantly.

Thad shook his head. Perhaps the one lone, remaining connection between his uncle and himself was their shared understanding of crippling loss. "You did know how he felt about you in blue dresses, silly."

Rose stiffened. "Not you, too."

Thad sighed. "I'm not trying to make excuses for him. Goodness knows he's treated you abominably enough in the past. But ….."

"I hate her, too," Rose whispered, passionately. There was no one else she could have admitted it to, but him.

"She was a bit of a brat," he smiled, into her curls.

Rose felt a sudden, unexpected jealousy. She sat up in his lap. "You knew her?"

"Your father came to visit me with her, once. In ….in New Orleans. It was a long time ago. She couldn't have been more than ….two. Two and a half at the most."

"Did she look like me?" There was a frown between her brows. "I mean, I've seen the portrait Daddy has in the library, but that was painted after she died, from photographs, so….."

Thad stared at her for the longest time, as if debating how to answer. Finally, he nodded. "She did look like you. Very much so."

Rose climbed off his lap, and sat down at the vanity, pulling a brush through her curls in a furious motion. Thad merely watched, but did not comment. "Maybe I should cut off all my hair," she mumbled, finally. She tried to imagine her head without the floating dark cloud. Would she be someone else? Someone her father might like?

"It's not the hair," he told her. "In actuality, your hair is more like mine. Hers was ….dark and curly, as well, but not as tightly curled as ours. It's the face, more than anything." He looked thoughtful, as if still trying to trace an elusive memory over a decade into the past.

Rose grabbled a pot of lip color, and started smearing the dark stain all over her face.

Thad again did not comment, but merely watched her in silence. He, too, had grown up feeling a need for masks.

When she turned to him, her face was as red as blood. She looked at him defiantly. "Aren't you going to tell me to stop?"

There was a bitter twist to his lips. "I have my father's face." There was no need to say more. Charles Butler had declined the invitation to Wade's wedding on a polite pretext, that had everything to do with avoiding his bastard son, and fooled no one. His sister, too, had declined, but she at least had sent her son Chase to be Wade's best man.

A brief knock, and the determined step of Scarlett entering the room.

"Rose," her mother called, obviously shocked. She glanced at Thad, whose serene countenance told her her daughter was in fact not bleeding. "Are you all right?"

"Lip color," Thad assured her, calmly. They exchanged a strange half-smile, at once conspiratorial and resigned, that fanned Rose's jealousy again.

"Wipe that stuff off your face, Rose, love," Scarlett said, softly. She handed her a towel from the vanity.

Rose turned her chin to the side, refusing to look at her. Her sister's memory suddenly seemed like the lesser threat for her cousin's affection. But when Thad picked up the towel, and started to clean her face, she submitted without further protest.

Once more ivory-skinned, she watched her mother dig through her dresses, and hold up a pale yellow gown.

"Not that one," Rose said. "The pink and white one, with the little rose buds."

Not even jealousy would entice her to submit to the wrong dress.

"Thad, can you help her get ready? We have to leave in a few minutes," Scarlett said, after she had pulled out the desired gown.

"Of course, Aunt Scarlett." There was a hint of irony in his tone, that Rose caught, and resented, because it seemed intimate, and spoke of an entire history between them, that she was not part of. She pulled on Thad's sleeve, wanting his attention back on her. "Help me!"

Her mother patted her head distractedly, her mind clearly on other things. "Come down when you're dressed." She did not know that her preoccupation went a long way to reassure Rose that all was safe. Thad picked up the dress, and did his best to cheer her while assisting her to pull it over her head. By the time her mother had left the room, she was smiling again.

~~oo~~

After checking on Rose, Scarlett went to the guest room Thad had allotted to them. Rhett was sitting in the arm-chair by the window. The curtains were drawn, shutting out the view over Houston it would have afforded.

"You shouldn't have done that," his wife told him, into the cool, dark room.

He did not answer.

"She's your daughter too," Scarlett tried again, heedlessly. The one, indelible stain on her happiness, this antipathy between father and daughter.

"I do love her," he said, heavily. "I would lay down my life for hers. She's just… such a …very different girl from….."

The name hung unspoken in the air.

Scarlett shook her head with determination. "Rhett," she said, urgently. "The relationship you had with Bonnie was ….well…..it was what it was, because of you and me. We didn't get along, so you focused all your love on her. Now that we've reconciled, it wasn't likely it would be the same with …Rose."

"She's just not very ….friendly. Or….likable." He did not tell her how difficult it was to see that cynical, condemning face, with the exact same features of that other, happy, adoring one.

"She isn't friendly to you, you mean."

He did not dispute her. "To me."

"You ….you can charm anyone. Why not her?"

"I've tried. She's very…..difficult to get close to." It would have taken more discerning eyes than Scarlett's to decipher the emotions flashing through his eyes. He himself would have been able to name them, had he ever cared to shine the light of his ruthless self-analysis on this part of his soul. But he had always chosen not to.

Scarlett rolled her eyes. "We don't have time right now," she said briskly. "We've got to get going, or we'll be late for Wade's wedding, and the poor boy has been patient enough with our quirks over the years! I'll thank you to pull yourself together, Rhett Butler, and don't make things into more of a muddle than they already are! Thank goodness the Walkers weren't here to see it. Whatever would they have thought of us?"

He accepted the rebuke, and her hand, in silence. Together, they walked out of the room.

~~oo~~

Only ten minuted later, Rose walked down the stairs once again, clinging to Thad's hand. Her parents, the servants, and Belle were waiting for them below. When she caught sight of her father, Rose flushed. Rhett flinched. The white-and-pink dress she was now wearing made her look even younger than the blue velvet had done, and the fierceness of her innocence was a rebuke to his memories, and to his sense of righteousness. Rose hid her head against Thad's arm, shielding her gaze. Uncle and Nephew gazed at each other levelly. It was, perhaps, to Thad's credit that he did not appear to gloat.

Rhett was surprised at the sudden, primitive possessiveness that flooded over him, the desire to rip that trusting, childish hand out of Thad's, and pull his daughter to his side. He wondered, briefly, if this was how Scarlett had felt, during most of Bonnie's existence on this earth. And, in the wake of possessiveness, surged regret. She had never rebuked him for depriving her of three whole months of her daughter's short life. As she probably should have done.

Scarlett scowled at all of them. "Shall we go?"

She was right, he thought. Now was not the time. If it ever would be.

~~oo~~

Much later that night, he was spending a last few moments alone with his step-son in the library.

Wade slapped him lightly on the shoulders. "Turned out to be a good ceremony, after all." There was no condemnation in his tone for the man who had almost ruined his wedding day.

"You're a much better man than I, Wade," Rhett said, heavily. He did not know that for Wade, the vision of Phoebe in her white wedding gown haloed even the agony of the morning. Had he wanted to, Rhett could have compiled a long list of the many ways he had let the boy down during the course of his young life, starting with abandoning him and his mother outside of Rough and Ready. But there was nothing but gratitude in the gentle brown eyes for the only father he could remember.

Wade wordlessly poured him a glass of Scotch, and handed it to him. "Don't worry about that. I just wish you and Rose….."

His stepfather took the glass gratefully. "I'm afraid it's too late for that."

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm sure Thad is filling her head with all kinds of nonsense about me," Rhett replied, with some acidity. Like I did with Bonnie.

Wade laid his head to the side. "I doubt it. Thad never spoils them, or lets them get away with…well…anything. They're much better behaved at the Ranch than they are anywhere else. She'd never have dared to pull off a scene like this, in his house, under normal circumstances."

"It's no relief, that my daughter listens to Thad more than she does me." He took a deep sip from his glass. "But enough about me. This is your wedding night. Why are you down here with me, anyways?"

Wade laughed, and blushed. "Phoebe has asked for some time to….get ready." The newlyweds would stay overnight in the private wing of the townhouse that Thad used for visiting business partners, and leave for their honeymoon tomorrow. It was obvious that nothing, not even the drama of the day, could affect Wade's delight in the prospect of the new life he and his young bride were about to embark on.

The memories flashed again, pure and painful.

He had carried her, whimsically, over the threshold of their hotel room.

"Put me down," she had said, imperiously, but laughter was in her voice. He had had such high hopes for that night. Perhaps it was his own fault, that, in the end, it had meant nothing. That it had not laid a groundwork for ever-growing intimacy between them, as he had dreamed. Instead, it had heralded a most damaging pattern. He had held himself back, and she had merely endured his attentions as she believed a wife must. And neither of them had found a way to deviate from that protocol over the weeks and months that followed. Until…..

Seeing Wade's flushed face, he thought of Scarlett, waiting for him upstairs, and sent a prayer of gratitude that things were so different between them now. Over the last nine years, he had learned what it meant to be in a happy marriage – something he had never believed he would live to see. And how he reveled in it.

He smiled, suddenly. "I know you will treat her well," he said, with genuine affection. "She's a lucky girl."

"I'm the lucky man," Wade said, with fervor. He looked up with a look of giddy delight. "I guess I should…..uhhh….go now."

Rhett laughed. "I guess you should."

He watched the boy's – no, the young man's – retreating form, and remained in the library for a few more silent minutes. He raised his head to see Thad enter.

"If you've come to berate me, Scarlett already beat you to it," he said, heavily. "I know what I did was wrong. But seeing her like this….in that dress….."

"For once, I wasn't going to say anything," Thad replied, in his dark voice. "I was trying to imagine a little girl that looked and dressed just like Tasha, and I could see myself reacting in a similarly – unhelpful- way."

"Tasha wasn't your daughter." Rhett did not know himself what caused him to lash out, except, perhaps, the memory of his daughter's hand in her cousin's, all the while glaring at him.

What warmth and understanding had been in Thad's voice fled before this cool repudiation of the kinship of their grief.

"What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, harshly. "She's dead. She would be alive today if she had never met me. Would have grown up to marry, have children, grow old…..and I robbed her of all of that, in my misguided self-indulgence, in the name of what I called... love. I badgered Tasha into loving me. Into running away with me. And now she's dead." He drew a shaky breath. "And seeing her dead in my arms wasn't even the worst day of my life. The worst day was when I had to step in front of her mother and father, and tell them that I killed their daughter. That she was buried in Atlanta, in a small, humble grave. That she had not even had the funeral with all the ceremony and honors she deserved. All because of me."

"I'm sorry," Rhett said, softly. There was nothing more to say.

"Yes," Thad said, his voice cold again. "Don't ever dare to tell me I don't know what it's like to …." He seemed at loss for words. He quickly turned, and walked from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Left behind, Rhett sighed once more. He had hoped it would be a joyful day - he had, in fact, accepted Thad's proposal in the hopes that the occasion might bring them closer, and serve as a chance to heal old hurts. And now ...he was further from his goal than ever before, both with Rose and with Thad. And he had no one but himself to blame.

He set down the glass on the sideboard with a thump. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to hold Scarlett, to feel her warmth. To inhale the fragnant scent of her hair. He ached almost physically for her closeness.

Without even a backward glance, he strode from the room.

A/N: I know that, in many ways, this is a hard chapter to read. Rhett (although acting impulsively, and regretting it immediately afterwards) really screws up big-time here.