Dear readers, as usual, I couldn't resist and after talking about our heroes' honeymoon and the unfortunate "sigh" of our Scarlett, I decided to write a little story:)

There are already four chapters and I think tomorrow will be the last one, so I want to share it with you now. I love to share:)

I will be very happy to read your thoughts and emotions while I'm writing the fifth chapter:)

Enjoy reading!:)

P.S. Sorry for my mistakes.

P.P.S. The final chapter of "Another Deal" is also in the works!:)

Chapter 1.

New Orleans was wonderful at this time of the year. Sunny but still pleasant weather during the day for walking along the streets under blooming trees, looking in shop windows, and a cool breeze in the evenings that made it possible to go out on the veranda or in the garden to take a breath after another dance at another party that the newlyweds attended every evening.

"We are the most beautiful couple at this ball," Scarlett thought haughtily to herself as she stood by the ajar French doors, in her evening dress of burgundy with gold lace, enjoying the cool breeze from the garden. She was flushed from dancing, a little dizzy from drinking champagne and her eyes shining as brightly as the emerald in her wedding ring.

When she arrived in New Orleans, Scarlett had never regretted marrying Rhett. He was handsome, charming, generous, fun to be with, but most of all, he was someone you could talk to about anything, and that was what she appreciated most.

"Oh, what a blessing not to have to play the silly bird any more, at least at home! It's nice to show that you have a brain and an opinion too," she thought as she looked around the crowd and saw her husband bowing gallantly to a group of ladies and then going to the table for champagne.

Of course, he often laughed at her and her so-called 'opinions', but there were times when he looked at her with pride, even admiration. She loved these moments and for some reason she remembered them.

Scarlett wrinkled her nose slightly as she looked down at her new gold satin shoes with buckles and thought they were a bit tight, which meant she'd probably had enough dancing for tonight or she wouldn't be able to take a step the next day. Rhett had promised to take her to see some stupid cathedral tomorrow, but then he'd promised her new earrings to go with her ring, looking at her pouty, resentful lips.

"You're such a child, Scarlett," he used to say to her laughing, but she would just wave him off, show him her tongue, and called him an 'old man'.

"Okay, one more dance! Just one and that's it," Scarlett agreed to herself, but then she heard a familiar name from the veranda and listened, turning her face in the direction of two male voices. They had been standing there for a long time, smoking, and when Scarlett got up after the dance, she heard them, discussing some manly nonsense. She didn't see their faces, but from their voices and accents, she realized that they were men from the North, with whom Rhett could sit at the card table, but politely declined invitations to walk in the park or to dinner in restaurant, citing a short honeymoon.

"I heard Butler turned Johnson down again, he invited them to have a picnic with their wives," said a quieter voice, older and hoarse.

Scarlett heard a smirk and the words in response, "Come on, he and his young wife probably spend half the day in bed, what a picnic!"

"Oh, his wife is a tricky one, a beautiful girl, young, though twice widowed... I'm surprised he married at all, of course. With his reputation..."

"What do you mean?" a younger voice asked him in astonishment.

"Well, a brothel owner, a blockade runner, can you imagine how many of those "widows" he has in every port?" the husky voice explained.

"Well, then his wife is a tricky one, as you said," the young voice replied with a chuckle, then took a puff on his cigar and continued, "they say she's half Irish, and they're so... They say they're passionate..." the young voice finished, coughing and laughing.

Scarlett did not hear the rest of the conversation, but quickly moved away from the door and sat down in an empty chair against the wall, next to a beautiful mahogany table on which she placed her fan.

She suddenly felt as if she had been eleven years old when she had heard Suellen and Honey Wilkes discussing how she would never be an elegant lady and would never find a husband for a long time because she behaved like a savage, liked to climb trees and compete with boys.

Scarlett remembered how her cheeks flamed with indignation and anger, and how she wanted to prove the opposite to these silly and pompous girls. It was then that she decided that she would be the most elegant lady her mother had ever wanted her to be, and that all the beaux in the county would ask for her hand in marriage! Then she was sent away to boarding school, and arrived a most charming young lady, with impeccable manners, but with cunning eyes and a sharp mind.

Now Scarlett's cheeks were burning too, with anger and indignation! How dare these men, these Yankees, talk about her and her husband!

For a moment Scarlett wondered childishly if she should tell Rhett and he would challenge these insolent men to a duel. But at first she thought that even the slight prospect of being widowed again did not please her, and then she thought about the subject of conversation and felt uneasy.

Her hands were shaking slightly, her heart was pounding and she was finding it hard to breathe because of the corset. She picked up the fan from the table, opened it and began to wave it around. There was no way she could go out onto the veranda now, and she tried not to look in the direction of the door at all, for fear of what she would see the faces of those men.

"It seems my young and indefatigable wife has finally tired of dancing," she heard a familiar chuckling voice, looked up and saw the merry gleam of black eyes.

Rhett held out his glass to Scarlett, but she shook her head in refusal. Then he set it down on the table and looked at her questioningly, "Is something wrong, Scarlett? Or are you finally ready to admit to your shrewd husband that your new shoes are really tight, eh, Darling?"

Scarlett looked at him irritably, once again surprised that he had guessed everything, then folded her fan and, rising from her chair, said with a strained smile, "I'm tired, Rhett, and I want to go to a hotel," and, to distract him, noticing his suspicious look and knowing that he would sniff around like a greyhound on the hunt if he sensed anything, said reluctantly, acknowledging his point, "And yes... These shoes... They're tight on me..."

Rhett seemed to smile even wider, glad to be right, which made her angry again, but his voice was very caressing as he whispered in her ear, "Come on, Darling, I'll take you to the hotel." Then he put his arm gently around her waist and added jokingly, "otherwise what's the use of a husband?"

She tried to smile at his last stupid phrase, but it seemed to hit her somewhere deep inside.

In the carriage, Rhett noticed that Scarlett was quiet and thoughtful, though she never once answered him inappropriately, and even got angry at his another joke about her dress.

"She must be really tired," he thought, looking at her as she gazed thoughtfully into the twilight outside the carriage window. While she wasn't noticing, Rhett glanced at her tenderly and was happy again, thanking chance or fate that she had become a widow again.

He did not pity Frank Kennedy, because he did not pity honest fools, he despised them. He would not have saved the whole silly company in Atlanta at the risk of his own skin, but that had given him a place in a society he despised, but which would be useful to him now when he had married.

Looking once more at his young wife, he reached out and caressed her cheek. Noticing that she flinched, as if he had distracted her from some thought, Rhett said, "We're almost at the hotel, Scarlett."

She nodded and gave him a weak smile.

While Rhett was washing and dressing, Scarlett decided to call a maid, who helped her quickly and skilfully to change her dress. Usually Rhett helped her, but tonight she didn't want to wait, so she stood at the window in her green silk dress, gazing wistfully out at the quiet night street. The conversation between the two men was on her mind and she replayed it in her head all the way back to the hotel.

They were sure that she and Rhett spent a lot of time in bed doing that silly male thing... They were also sure that Rhett had a mistress in every port, a "widow" they said... They also said about a brothel. Scarlett frowned at that last thought, and at the memory of Belle Watling. "She's a good friend of mine," Rhett had called that woman once, and it had annoyed her.

But putting thoughts of other women aside, Scarlett thought of herself and their marriage.

She knew Rhett had married her for her body, he wanted her for himself. He certainly didn't love her, he'd told her that directly. He played with her, spoiled her, she amused him, and that was understandable, but what she didn't understand now was their relationship in bed.

She had never made love with the man she loved and could only guess that it must be something special.

With Charles, she remembered the uncomfortable feeling of desperation and the fact that she had let a strange man, whom she had foolishly married, near her body. His sweaty palms touching her body awkwardly, his overly wet kisses, the sharp pain and then the feeling of humiliation were all she remembered.

Then there was Frank and his fidgeting, some absurdly affectionate words that annoyed her and she wished he would shut up, because she hated the smell of his breath. The feeling of squeamishness and humiliation was unbearable, and she was even glad to be pregnant again so that she could stop sharing a bed with her husband. After the birth, under various pretexts, she never let him near her and then he was gone.

Scarlett took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, as if to throw away the memories, and put her arms across her chest.

And now there was Rhett. He was handsome, he smelled nice, his hands were strong, he seemed to know what to do. He knew how to kiss and he was confident.

She looked forward to their first night with trepidation and a certain childish curiosity, for she had also heard of his reputation.

But as the first, second and subsequent nights passed until tonight, Scarlett was surprised.

Comparing Rhett to her first husbands, she found that making love to him was tolerable, perhaps she would have liked to hear him say something, or for him to do something unexpected, even foolish, but he was silent, and his face, when she could see it, was impenetrable.

She loved the moments afterwards, when he put his arms around her waist, stroked her hair, and then it seemed to her that he wouldn't go to sleep until she was asleep.

So the conversation between strange men, talking so confidently about their bed, made her wonder if it was really supposed to be like this or...

Suddenly she felt his hands on her waist and his soft voice, "I didn't realize you'd changed your clothes, Scarlett. Too bad, I like helping you myself."

Scarlett closed her eyes for a moment, then replied, "It's just that today..."

"Are you tired?" she heard another question but just shook her head negatively, her breathing slightly ragged with excitement.

He turned her towards him, but she didn't have time to meet his gaze before he kissed her quickly, she closed her eyes for a moment and then the room spun, maybe it was because of champagne...

They lay together on the crumpled silk sheets, and Scarlett, feeling Rhett's arm around her waist, thought that she didn't seem to be destined to marry a man who would love her and whom she would love in return. "I guess, it would be like those men said. After all, when you love, these silly things should be special too..." She remembered Ashley and realized that she'd never know what it was like to share a bed with him. Her most vivid memory was of their kiss in the orchard. She felt his hands tremble, she remembered all those words that seemed to make her heart beat as hard as ever... And then Scarlett remembered their kiss with Rhett when he had proposed. How her hands and knees had trembled, how hot and exciting the touch of his lips had been, and how his moustache had tickled her soft skin. She remembered his husky whisper, "Maybe I want you to faint!" He was strong, confident, and she felt she would have agreed to anything at that moment. Yes, he didn't kiss her like that anymore... With this thought she sighed and turned her head towards the window, and after a moment she felt his arms around her waist like iron, and Rhett's voice spoke in the stillness, "May God damn your cheating little soul to hell for all eternity!"