Rhett could not sleep.
His mind kept replaying over and over the events of the afternoon, trying to make sense of them. Usually he had no trouble understanding his wife's motives, but now he was very confused. Too afraid to hope, and yet … Restlessly he tossed and turned.
And then, he was going to be a father again. Could he love another child as much as he loved Bonnie? Another daughter perhaps. But what if it was a boy – a son. His heart missed a beat at the thought. He wasn't sure he wanted a son. Sons could be difficult – as he had been, he thought ruefully. Wade was a good boy though. But he hoped any son of his would have a bit more spirit than Wade. And he hoped he could be a better father than his father had been to him.
But Scarlett must hate him for getting her with child, and in such a brutal manner too. He hated himself. He remembered all too vividly how she had told him that no woman would want the child of a cad like him. A cad. She had called him that again this evening. And yet, she had also said she had missed him. And asked him not to go away again. What was that about? What could she possibly want him around for, he wondered. Not for intimacy, he thought with a sigh, that much she had made clear when she had banned him from her room over two years ago. Maybe her pregnancy was making her feel more vulnerable than usual, he reasoned. And yet, she had certainly not acted like she wanted protecting when she had been expecting Ella. He sighed.
He thought then of how she had touched him. She had only placed her hand on his – yet it had stirred up powerful currents of suppressed desire coursing through him. That woman! Did she have any idea what she did to him? Had she meant anything by it? Or was she just manipulating him to get what she wanted out of him. What did she want from him? He rolled over again and punched his pillow.
He thought of her, sleeping in the room next to his, just through the wall. He imagined how she would look, with her luxuriant dark hair cascading around her, the sheets outlining the curves of her figure, the sound of her soft, gentle breathing. How he would love to stroke her soft, pale skin. He groaned softly.
Abruptly he sat up and swung his feet to the floor. This would not do. Get a grip, he told himself sternly. Moving quietly, he got up and poured himself a whisky. After the second one, he felt some of his tension ease, and he leaned back on his chair with a sigh. 'I should not have come back', he thought. But then he thought of Bonnie, sleeping quietly on her little bed beside his. Bonnie had wanted her mother. And since he could not deny Bonnie anything, he had had to come back. If he was honest with himself, he admitted that a small part of him had wanted to come back too. Just to check up on Scarlett, because as her husband, he was responsible for her. At least, that is what he told himself.
And it was just as well he had come back, he reminded himself. The gossips would have had a field day if he was still absent when his child was born.
He rubbed his forehead tiredly. It had been a long day. He was not sure he could handle living like this for the rest of his life. And yet, what choice did he have? He could not leave Bonnie, he could not leave his pregnant wife.
Wearily, he climbed back into bed. The clock in the hall struck three. And then four. And then five. Rhett heard the cocks crow. The sky grew light, and servants began to move around the house. He was just finally dozing off when Bonnie's voice woke him up. 'Daddy', she chirped. She climbed up onto his bed and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Rhett rubbed his eyes. 'Good morning, princess', he mumbled, stretching out an arm to embrace her, and summoning up a tired smile.
'Daddy, what will we do today?' she asked.
'What would you like to do, Bonnie?' he asked drowsily.
Bonnie considered for a minute. 'Can we go on a picnic Daddy? You and me and mother, and Wade and Ella? Can we, Daddy, please?'
Rhett opened his eyes and regarded her. 'All of us?' he said. She nodded insistently. 'Well', he answered slowly, already regretting having asked what she would like, thinking he really would like to spend the day quietly in his study, and desperately trying to think of an excuse to avoid Scarlett, 'I will have to ask your mother. She may be busy'.