In those two weeks in New Orleans, she learned everything about him except what he really was. – Margaret Mitchell

Scarlett had never been a morning person. As a child at Tara, she had complained bitterly whenever Mammy woke her, pulling the covers up over her head and refusing to get up. This habit of staying in bed as long as possible was one she had brought along with her into adulthood. Even with her many pressing responsibilities, Scarlett still clung stubbornly to oblivion, holding onto the last blissful remnants of sleep as if her life depended on it.

But not today.

Today, not even the most joyous of dreams could compete against the feel of Rhett's burning heat against her back, and the soft, teasing kisses he pressed to her neck.

Somehow, this morning, the prospect of waking up didn't seem quite so terrible.

Arching into Rhett, Scarlett fought to escape her slumber. He tightened his hold and moved his lips northwards to seek out that one, particular spot behind her ear. Scarlett moaned, and he rewarded her by parting his lips and pressing his tongue into the sensitive hollow.

'Ah,' she breathed, her sigh fast becoming a yawn.

Rhett chuckled, the vibrations sending shivers down Scarlett's spine. 'I take it by that impressive yawn that Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken. About time too. I've been endeavouring to rouse you for the last fifteen minutes. I was starting to worry you'd slipped into a coma at some point during the night.'

Rolling her eyes, Scarlett stretched her aching body before answering archly, 'If you'd really wanted to wake me then you should have brought me breakfast in bed. The smell of warm croissants would have worked much better than your measly kisses.'

'Is that so? Measly, are they?' Rhett challenged, moving his hand on her stomach so that his fingers dug into the ticklish space beneath her ribs.

Trying and failing to supress a giggle, Scarlett pulled his hand back down to her stomach, intertwining their fingers so he had no choice but to cease his attack.

'Mmhmm,' she agreed sleepily, 'Very measly.'

'My dear, you wound me,' Rhett drawled, giving her hand a light squeeze.

Scarlett smiled and squeezed back. It felt nice to be able to joke like this, easily and harmlessly, without one of them taking offence and storming off. They'd come a long way in these last few days and Scarlett was glad for it. Their progress was perhaps most apparent in the fact that while they had occupied separate quarters during the train ride to New Orleans, on the return journey they required only one.

The fear that Scarlett had felt on the first night of her honeymoon was nothing but a distant memory now. Her former fear rendered laughable by Rhett's subsequent behaviour. Having been married three times in her short life, Scarlett considered herself something of an expert on the subject and could not imagine another husband as gentle and considerate as Rhett.

Even after this joyous fortnight, he'd still asked her whether she wouldn't be happier having her own room. But while once the prospect of being alone with him had made Scarlett baulk, now she couldn't get close enough. Though the train compartment was a far cry from the vast splendour of their bridal suite, Scarlett was more than willing to suffer the cramped conditions if it meant she got to keep Rhett by her side.

Neither of them had managed to get much sleep last night, but Scarlett didn't mind feeling a little fatigued. There would be plenty of time to rest when they were dead, as Rhett liked to say, and right now Scarlett had never felt more alive.

The morning would be completely perfect if only Rhett really had gone and gotten her something to eat. As if in agreement, Scarlett's stomach gave an almighty grumble.

Rhett laughed caddishly at her discomfort and for a moment Scarlett was tempted to push him off the bed. She was denied the opportunity when he extracted his hand and got up. Scarlett shivered as a cold breeze drifted along her back, experiencing a gnawing sense of loss as Rhett moved to pick up his discarded clothes from the floor.

Scarlett rolled onto her back and sat up against the pillows. 'Where are you going?'

'To scour every last inch of this train until I find you something to eat. I can't have your bellyaches disturbing the other passengers.'

Scarlett bit her lip to stop herself from smiling stupidly, not wanting Rhett to see the depth of her affection. A nagging doubt persisted in the back of her mind, warning her that this level of happiness could not last for long; that a man as untameable as Rhett Butler would not be content to play the role of the doting spouse forever.

Looking out of the window, she watched the scenery flash by, wishing that she could order the train to turn around and take them back to New Orleans. They had been so happy there. Freed of the expectations of home, they'd carved out a better relationship for themselves away from the prying eyes and sharp tongues of the Old Cats. She worried that once they returned to Atlanta, everything they'd built would be lost.

She didn't want it to happen, but she wasn't sure how to stop it. There wasn't much that she was sure of these days. Everything that she had once known or held to be true had become distorted during her time away. Ashley; Melanie; Rhett: her views on these central figures in her life, once set in stone, had become mixed up and muddied until everything was upside down and back to front and she didn't have the faintest idea of where she stood with any of them.

Through the tumult of her thoughts, she heard Rhett call her name.

'What did you say?'

'My dear, do you mean to tell me you weren't hanging off my every word?' Rhett teased lightly, before giving an exaggerated sigh and repeating himself, 'I was asking if there was anything else you wanted besides croissants? Not that I can guarantee you'll get those, seeing as you've awoken far too late for breakfast and will have to make do with whatever I can find left-over in the kitchens or steal from the other passengers.'

Despite her unresolved fears, Scarlett laughed freely at Rhett's words, a tingle running through her at the thought of the lengths he would go to please her. Just like that night he'd thieved that god-forsaken excuse for a horse so that the she could escape from Atlanta before it fell to the Yankees, Rhett always gave her what she needed - whether it was strictly legal or not.

'I'm sure whatever you get me will be fine and, if it's not, you'll just have to take me out for lunch at the National.'

Smirking, Rhett shook his head. 'As much as I enjoy spending my hard-earned millions on you, my dear, I've already made plans for lunch.'

Before she could express her displeasure, Rhett crossed the room and planted a kiss upon her mouth.

His lips made Scarlett hungry in a different way, and for a moment her mind was wiped blank of everything save the need to draw him closer. She could only nod dazedly when he pulled back with a whispered, 'Wish me luck.'

As he stalked out of the room in search of breakfast, Scarlett mulled over his words about lunch. He was already withdrawing from her, she thought glumly. If he intended to run off to eat with God-knows-who the minute they disembarked, then she'd been right to fear that the Rhett she had honeymooned with in New Orleans was not the Rhett she should expect to live with in Atlanta.

It hurt to think that the intimacy they had enjoyed this last fortnight would not last. Bitterly she wished that their honeymoon hadn't gone by so quickly, that she could turn back the clock and do it all again.

Given the opportunity to relive it, she would not change a thing. Not the moments of misunderstanding, not the cross words, not even the blazing rows. For they were as dear to her as the moments of perfect harmony. Were it not for those arguments, Rhett would never have overcome his jealousy of Ashley, and Scarlett would never have realised her feelings for her own husband.

There was something undeniably thrilling about fighting with Rhett, too. He brought out the best and the worst she could be and gloried in both. There was no part of herself that she had to hide from him, no need to fear that he would discover she was not a true lady and be repulsed by the finding. For he had known that about her since their very first meeting and it had only made him want her more.

Scarlett hadn't been accepted as her true self in a very long time, perhaps ever, and it was not a feeling she was willing to give up. Sitting back and bemoaning the fact Rhett wanted to have lunch without her would not stop him from doing so. If she wanted to keep him for herself, then she'd have to fight for him. Even if it meant swallowing her pride.

She was busy concocting plans to permanently ensnare her husband when he flew back into their room, slamming the door shut and diving onto the bed. His face was flushed and his eyes snapped with an electric mix of danger and adrenaline as he turned over onto his back, almost knocking Scarlett onto the floor until he reached out a hand to grab her.

'Breakfast is served, my pet,' he declared proudly, his laboured breath the only visible sign that he was not his usual unflappable self. Smirking, he reached into his breast pocket and removed a single bread roll, causing Scarlett's eyebrows to shoot up in distaste.

'Is that it? I ate larger meals at Tara during the war, and we all practically starved!'

'How your cruel words claw at me, Scarlett. I venture forth to find you sustenance, risking both my good reputation and my life, only to have you criticise my sacrifice when I return? Next time, I'll make you hunt for your own breakfast!'

'Huh! If I did, I'd damn well come back with more than one measly bread roll. Why, there's not even any filling in it!'

At her jeering words, Rhett brought the roll up close to his face and pretended to inspect it. 'Isn't there, my dear? I must have forgotten it in my haste to escape before the strapping fellow that this belongs to realised it was missing.'

'Rhett! You didn't really steal someone else's breakfast, did you?' Scarlett asked, giggling. The thought of him putting himself at risk for her sake made her feel light enough to float away.

'Of course not, I would never stoop so low as to steal a man's breakfast!' Rhett proclaimed angrily, before his face broke out into a boyish smirk. 'That's why I left him the filling!'

Laughing despite herself, Scarlett slapped his arm while proclaiming affectionately, 'Oh, Rhett, you are awful!'

'Indeed I am, my pet, but that's why you love me.'

He didn't raise his voice, didn't put any emphasis on those last three words, yet they cut through the drowsy late morning air like a knife. They echoed through the tiny compartment, growing rather than diminishing in volume each time they repeated until Scarlett wanted to cover her ears and block them out.

In all the years that she had known him, Scarlett had felt many different emotions regarding Rhett: anger, frustration, affection, disinterest, even hatred. But love? Had she ever really loved him?

If someone had asked her that question before their marriage she would have thrown back her head and scoffed. Love that skunk? She'd sooner let a poisonous snake into her bed than trust him with her heart! She only tolerated him at all because he bought her pretty gifts and listened to the troubles she couldn't risk telling anyone else.

But since their wedding things had changed. She had seen sides to him that she had never guessed existed. He was still intolerable at times, but he was so much else besides. Despite his fierce exterior, Rhett could be unnervingly sweet, surprisingly witty and often unexpectedly, heart-wrenchingly gentle.

But though her affection for him had increased beyond all measure, she wasn't sure if it was love exactly that she felt for him. The only person that she had ever knowingly loved was Ashley, and the two men could hardly be more different.

With Ashley her feelings had always been easy to understand. She idolised him, placing him upon a pedestal that no one else came close to ascending. He was perfect in her eyes: handsome to the point of beauty, courteous, chivalrous to a fault and always painfully proper.

Compared along those lines, Rhett could not fail but to disappoint. She certainly did not idolise him, indeed the very idea was offensive to her. She fought hard to equal Rhett in all things and the notion of placing him above her was ridiculous. He was far from beautiful too, his face strong and rugged where Ashley's was fine and soft, his frame large and imposing where Ashley's was lean and stately.

And he certainly wasn't courteous or chivalrous or proper or any of those gentlemanly things. He never allowed her to get away with a lie and always criticised her when she acted like the belle she was trained to be. He told her the most scandalous of stories and always treated her more as if she were his partner in crime than an innocent, ignorant lady.

But despite these apparent shortcomings - and Scarlett wasn't sure if they even were shortcomings anymore - he possessed traits that Ashley did not.

He could make her smile so hard that her cheeks ached for hours afterwards, could make her laugh until her sides hurt and her eyes streamed with tears. At night, he made her feel cherished and exquisite and, afterwards, he held her so tightly it was as if he was trying to shield her from the rest of the world, determined never to let it hurt her again. He taunted and teased her in a way that stimulated rather than offended her and she missed him painfully when he wasn't there, unconsciously hoping that each sound she heard was the sound of him returning.

But even if she did love him, what good would it do? While she wasn't dense enough to miss Rhett's obvious affection for her, it did nothing to alter the fact that their marriage was nothing more than a business transaction to him. It was her body he longed to possess, not her heart.

Unable to deny his words, yet not brave enough to agree with them, Scarlett squared her shoulders and answered firmly, 'As if any woman ever loved a man because he was a skunk! Now hand me that roll, Rhett. It may be pitiful, but I suppose it will have to do.'

Looking pleased that his words had driven her into such a flurry, Rhett grinned sardonically as he passed over her meagre breakfast, making sure to brush his fingers against hers.

Taking a large bite out of the bread to distract from her blush, Scarlett forced herself to swallow down the food despite her mouth feeling uncomfortably dry. She'd almost finished wolfing it down, when she realised that Rhett had brought back nothing for himself.

'Um…' she began guiltily, holding out the slim remnants of her breakfast, 'would you like some, Rhett?'

'Kind as it is of you to belatedly think of me, my dear, now that I've finally stopped having to live off of your crumbs, I don't intend to resume the habit,' he said, his words confusing Scarlett. Why, she had never made him eat crumbs before! They had lived like royalty all honeymoon, consuming meals so large and fine that Scarlett often thought her stomach might burst before she had a chance to finish them.

'No, I shall eat in Atlanta. I've organised a splendid lunch with the town's most eminent lady, and I don't wish to spoil my appetite.'

So it was a woman he was seeing! Scarlett's heart clenched against the stinging pain of his betrayal. To think he couldn't even wait a day before seeking out another female's company. Had he grown that bored of her already?

No doubt it was that awful Watling creature he was in such a hurry to see. While Scarlett had been busy acting like a love-struck fool this last fortnight, heartedly wishing their honeymoon could last forever, Rhett had probably been counting down the days until he could return to Atlanta and his flame-haired whore. A wash of hurt and crushed hope flooding through her, Scarlett fought hard to hold back the tears which threatened to fall from her downcast eyes.

Rhett didn't even have the decency to hide it from her, that was the worst of it. He was all but rubbing his intended infidelity in her face, as if it was something he just expected her to put up with! And for him to plan to meet Belle in broad daylight, when all of their friends and neighbours would surely see them and laugh at Scarlett for her inability to keep her husband interested for a single month!

She could not face such ridicule. What's more, she would not. If she had to attach herself to Rhett's arm and have him drag her up and down Five Points as she point-blank refused to let him lunch with Belle, then so be it. It would bruise her pride beyond all recovery but she'd sacrifice it all to keep him faithful.

Squaring her jaw in preparation for a fight, she turned to face Rhett and met his puzzled expression with her own unyielding one.

'Scarlett?' he asked, concern leaking into his voice. 'What is the matter?'

'I won't have you seeing her, Rhett. It's cruel and mean of you to even think of doing so when we've only just returned from our honeymoon.' Taking a deep breath to overcome her natural modesty, she continued on, ignoring Rhett's perplexed look. 'I know that some married men do of course visit such women, but if you think that I'm going to be one of those mousey little wives who sit back and do nothing while their husbands run around town making fools of themselves and dragging their names through the dirt, then you're mistaken. I won't be made a fool of, Rhett, and I'll pack my bags for Tara if you ever try.'

'Scarlett, I don't wish to ruffle your feathers, but I fear I must ask: what on God's good earth are you rambling on about?'

Taking in his look of genuine, if slightly amused, confusion, Scarlett frowned and wondered if maybe she hadn't made a terrible mistake. 'You abandoning me to have lunch with that dreadful Watling woman, of course.'

To her consternation, Rhett threw back his head and laughed loudly at her words, his white teeth gleaming as he wiped away tears from his eyes. 'Oh, my dear, you never fail to amuse me! Having lunch with Belle, indeed!'

Scowling to cover her rising embarrassment, Scarlett soldiered bravely on, 'But you said you couldn't eat with me because you'd already made plans with a woman, and there's not one respectable lady in Atlanta who'd willingly have lunch with you, so I assumed…'

'You assumed wrong, my dear,' Rhett interjected, his dark eyes still bright with laughter. 'In your damning assessment of my social standing, you forgot the one lady who has always made me welcome at her table, no matter how odious my sins may be.'

'You mean Melly?' Scarlett asked, her face screwing up in disbelief. 'But why would you plan to dine with her when Ashley is bound to be there? You've made no secret of your dislike for him, so I don't see why you'd rush to spend time with him now.'

Rhett's smile turned malicious as he replied, 'Come, Scarlett, I think it's only right that your oldest friend should see what a happy union your marriage has turned out to be, don't you?'

'Why, Rhett!' Scarlett admonished. 'You mean to taunt him, don't you?'

'Indeed I do, Mrs. Butler,' Rhett replied, not one trace of remorse apparent in his tanned features. 'It's only fair to inform him that your allegiances have changed. There's no sense in the poor man labouring under false pretences for the rest of his life, now, is there?'

She knew she should have been affronted by his smug tone, not to mention offended by the fact he meant to parade their happiness in front of Ashley like some sort of trophy, but somehow she couldn't find the will to muster up her temper. She was too relieved that her suspicions regarding Belle had been unfounded to much care if he wanted to gloat to poor Ashley.

She put up no fuss when Rhett reached across and pulled her into his arms, nor when he started to run his hands through her hair and attempted to vanquish the remnants of her earlier frown by laying tender kisses upon the lines on her forehead.

Scarlett felt that familiar soothing warmth rise up in her stomach and roll out along her body as she lost herself eagerly in his kisses. She arched her spine and reached up her head to plant a kiss on her husband's lips, safe in the knowledge that she would be the only woman to do so for the foreseeable future.

Before she could truly lose herself, Rhett surprised her by moving away, a rueful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. 'As much as I would enjoy indulging you, my dear, by my estimations we're only twenty minutes out of Atlanta. We'd better dress, as I doubt Mrs. Meade and her band of cronies would appreciate us disembarking from this train wearing nothing but a pair of very fetching smiles.'

Blushing deeply at his scandalous words, Scarlett all but leapt from the bed. 'Twenty minutes!' she shrieked. 'God's nightgown, Rhett, why didn't you tell me sooner? I'll never be ready in that time, and I so wanted to look my best for our return.'

Chuckling lowly, Rhett lifted himself lithely from the bed and sauntered over to where Scarlett stood trying to pull her chemise over her head with one hand while putting on her stocking with another.

'My dear, it matters little what you're wearing when you only have to show your face in order to outshine every other woman present.'

Normally highly susceptible to his flattery, Scarlett was too busy trying to locate her discarded corset to acknowledge his words with anything more than a hasty nod of her head. Finding it half-hidden under one of their cases, she yanked it free and thrust it unceremoniously into Rhett's chest. 'I'd have outshone them far better if you'd given me a bit more time! Now hurry up and lace me.'

'Next time we travel, I'll be sure to give you adequate notice. How long do you think you'll need to look your best? I'd have thought three days should do it. Two, at a push,' he teased, clearly enjoying himself thoroughly.

Had Rhett not been standing behind her, Scarlett would have taken great pleasure in slapping his arm in reprimand. She only managed to restrain herself from kicking his shins by thinking of what a sight they would make disembarking from the train if - in addition to her own poorly dressed state - her husband was encumbered by a severe limp.

'Will we be going away often, Rhett?'

'Oh, I should think so, Mrs. Butler. There is a whole world outside of our dear Southland which you have yet to experience. And, having risked my life to earn all these ill-gotten gains, it seems a shame not to spend the lion's share of them on exploring Europe and South America with my all-too charming wife.'

'Oh, Rhett, you are good to me!' Scarlett chimed, her wounded vanity all but forgotten. 'I do so long to see Paris and London and… and Ireland! Yes, it would be just lovely to see Pa's home country after having had to listen to him rant and rave about it all these years.'

'Then see it you shall, my darling,' Rhett declared, securing her corset before moving round to face her.

Scarlett granted him a quick peck on the cheek in thanks before rushing off to find the rest of her clothes, her mind still fantasising about all the places they'd soon be visiting. How exciting married life would be this time around! She need not fear that Rhett would leave her as Charles had, for she had never met a man more intensely alive than her third husband. Nor would she have to spend all her time worrying about money as she had with Frank, because Rhett was rich almost to the point of obscenity.

It truly was a case of third time lucky. With Rhett's ring on her finger, she could let go of her anxieties and simply enjoy life again, as wholly and lustily as she had as a young belle at Tara.

And, if they were to be spending so much time out of the country, it would be a lot harder for Rhett to visit Belle Watling. Her good mood souring, Scarlett slipped on the ruby gloves which perfectly complimented the red dress she had selected especially for their triumphant return home, and fixed Rhett with an icy stare for the second time that morning.

'Rhett?'

'Scarlett?' he mimicked playfully, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the wall of the train.

'I was wondering will you be visiting… well, what I mean to say is, do you intend to see much of Miss. Watling now that we're back in Atlanta?'

'Not nearly as much as I used to see of her, my dear,' Rhett replied, his black eyes dancing mischievously, before turning earnest when he took in Scarlett's look of hurt. 'You must understand that myself and Belle have been friends for many years now, Scarlett. As we share several business interests, it is only natural that we will have to meet each other from time to time.'

Scarlett felt her blood boiling as he spoke, hot tears of betrayal pricking at her eyelashes like wasps' stings. Through watery lids she saw Rhett move towards her and before she knew it she was being enveloped in the comforting warmth of his arms.

Placing a finger under her chin, he pulled her bowed head up to meet his and continued steadily, 'I assure you that our meetings will go no further than yours and Ashley's, for I too have found my former fondness for my oldest friend quite overshadowed in this last fortnight. And as long as your affections do not revert back, I give you my word that mine will not either.'

Blinking rapidly, Scarlett smiled and nodded her head. If that was all it would take to keep Rhett from Belle's door then she would have nothing to fear. For Ashley was nothing more than a beloved childhood friend to her now, her former infatuation receding further each day until it scarcely even seemed real anymore.

'Should I take your nod to mean that I won't be seeking out Belle any time soon, my dear?'

'You should,' Scarlett replied, her blinding smile matched by Rhett's.

'Good,' he declared with a false show of nonchalance, clapping his hands together and picking up their carry-on bags. 'Then if you are quite ready, my pet, I do believe it is time for us to disembark. We wouldn't want to keep the Wilkes' waiting!'

Unable to supress her smile, Scarlett followed Rhett out of their compartment, taking one last glance around the room before she closed the door. It had been a dizzying two weeks even by the standards of her eventful life, but if it had to end, she was glad that the intimacy she and Rhett had shared within it would continue on.

As the train drew into the station, she caught sight of Melanie and Ashley standing on the platform. Ashley stood tall and solemn-faced, while beside him Melanie bounced eagerly on her small feet, craning her neck to catch sight of her returning friends.

Scarlett experienced a strange surge of affection for the woman who had always thought the best of her no matter what others might say. Suddenly she could not wait to see her, to tell her everything that had happened in New Orleans and find out all the tittle-tattle she had missed while she was away. It had been a long time since she'd knowingly had a female friend and Scarlett realised she'd been hankering after one.

The train rocked as it slowed to a stop, the carriage juddering and causing several ladies to stumble. Scarlett was spared this embarrassment when Rhett wrapped a supportive arm around her waist, before he took advantage of the situation to provocatively squeeze her side.

Glancing up at his mischievous expression, Scarlett was overcome by a rush of emotion for her irrepressible rogue of a husband. Not wanting to let the moment pass her by, she leaned up and whispered passionately in his ear, 'That's why.'

'Why what, my dear?' he drawled, his sparkling eyes telling her that he understood exactly what she was referring to.

Playing along with him, she employed all the tricks that had one made her the belle of five counties. Batting her eyelids as swiftly as a hummingbird's wings and smiling coquettishly in a way that made her dimples dance, she leant as close to him as she dared to in public, and murmured lowly, 'You know what.'

'Ah, that's why you're hopelessly and irrevocably in love with me, you mean? It's only to be expected. No woman could hold out against my rakish charms for long.'

Feigning a huff, she rolled her eyes and replied sharply, 'I managed to hold out for six years, didn't I?'

Rolling his lips into his mouth and nodding his head in a faux-serious manner, Rhett caressed her cheek and stared deeply into her eyes. 'And yet I succumbed to yours the very first moment we met.'

'Really?' Scarlett breathed, hardly daring to hope that his words were true.

'Really,' he replied, with the most earnest expression she had ever seen him wear.

'So this marriage isn't just a business deal to you?' she asked, finally giving voice to the thought that had been plaguing her all honeymoon.

'Of course it is,' Rhett said dismissively, dealing Scarlett a crippling blow.

'But,' he continued as the doors opened and the passengers around them began to exit, the stream of bodies all but pushing Scarlett and Rhett towards the platform and their waiting friends, 'It's never been your body - tempting though it is - that I wished to acquire, but rather your stubborn heart and incomparable mind.'

Though Scarlett could feel the concrete of the platform beneath her feet, could hear Melanie's excited cries and Ashely's more staid greetings, she felt as if she were floating somewhere else entirely, somewhere bright and warm and safe which comprised solely of her and Rhett.

Officially her honeymoon may have ended, but she now knew that the events of the last fortnight would stay dear to her for the rest of her life. It had changed her perceptions of everything and everyone around her, and allowed her to understand the man who up until now had been nothing but an infuriating mystery. In it, she had learned that Rhett was at his most playful and considerate in the mornings and his most passionate and dangerous at night, that his temperament could switch at the drop of a hat, that his words were just as capable of stealing her heart as they were of breaking it, and that no matter how engrossed he might appear to be in a conversation, he would instantly break it off the moment he sensed she wanted him, like a panther biding its time by playing with a mouse while waiting for more worthy prey to wander into its territory.

But greater than those little, treasured details was the fact that after all of these long years, their time in New Orleans had enabled her to pry away his mask and uncover the man beneath. Finally, she had discovered the true Rhett Butler. And she realised now that, at heart, he had only ever been one thing, and one thing only. No longer did she dismiss him as an infuriating cad, or buy into the rest of Atlanta's belief that he was nothing but a worthless scoundrel. Nor was she fooled by his earlier, romantic incarnations as a wanderer and a reckless adventurer, for they were simply disguises that he had needed once and had long since outgrown. No, for in these two weeks in New Orleans she had learned everything about him including what he really was.

Hers.

Thank you so much to everyone who came along on this ride with me one more time. I loved revisiting this world. I'm so sad it's over, but I'm happy with how it ended for them. When I first read GWTW aged fourteen, I wrote 'Hers' in pencil after that line in the book and now - in this story at least - it gets to be true.