Hello everyone!

This chapter had been tricky to write, leaving me quite an emotional wreck, so it's with a lot of apprehension I finally post it. I hesitated on the format, the way it would unfold, before deciding to mostly follow Scarlett's trail of thought, coming from one scene to another. I do hope it's clear enough. I often had to come back to it, unsatisfied, for it is something that I had prepared for so long, and I really wanted to make it work. However, the more I tried, the more it seemed to block. And then many things happened, as it often does in these cases, and in my case it often translated into even more work than I could bear. I had to allow myself to slow down. To let things come on their own.

I thank you all for bearing with me. It is absolutely not my intention to give up on this story, and I hope you will still find in your heart to enjoy it despite my shortcomings.

Wishing you a good read,

Elise

PS: I had forgotten to correct the grammar and orthography. Sorry for it.

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The air was thick and hot, burning the tongue if tasted, and not even the use of a little umbrella was enough to protect oneself. It went everywhere with its oppression and hunger.

Too hot for a wedding day, Scarlett reflected as she waited on the platform of the station. Why, she did not know exactly, for the heat was slowly dulling the sharpness of her mind and she couldn't think as clearly as she would like. The sky had that red tinge, like the red clay at her feet, so dry it almost made her cry for the moist, healthy clay of Tara, and the memory of a beautiful, peaceful sunset watched on the porch of the big, whitewashed house.

However, she was still in Atlanta, and in Atlanta, she had to stay for the moment. At least until tomorrow, when she would be freer, safer.

She had asked for her corset to be tied tighter, just like before, after realizing with dismay that these days it had been done much looser.

As had been her heart around Rhett.

If Melanie laughed softly at her, telling her there was nothing wrong with the way it was tied, as it was the same as the other girls, and she was just being fussy, Scarlett would have none of it. She could not just be tied like the other girls. She was not a girl anymore. She had to remember that, especially in front of Rhett, who always had to wake her basest instincts, and if pain was the way to do it, she would suffer it.

Indulgence could not be tolerated anymore, she remonstrated herself, tapping lightly on her fingers, as if to punish herself for ever thinking otherwise. It was better than another broken heart and disappointed, foolish hopes. She had learned it at a dear price.

A deep breath of hot air was taken, filling her lungs heavily. Now she just wanted to sleep and for this day to be over, with Melanie happily married and thanking her.

She took courage in the remembrance of the blind faith and affection in her warm brown eyes. Yes, she would do this for her.

Poor Melanie, with all her worries and questions, her shy "Scarlett, do you think I'll be a good wife?", and "Do you think he will love that dress?", doubting herself when she needed not to.

Granted, Scarlett admitted, still unused to the lack of criticism, when it was so eagerly put on her by others, her body was little, like that of a child, with very few curves, and Scarlett had been uneasy with the idea of her friend carrying a baby. However, hers and her Mr. Goldin's was a love match, and it seemed foolish to Scarlett for her to doubt he could love her without wanting her.

A man could want without loving. That, she had learned from Rhett. But love without wanting? The idea was very strange to Scarlett who had never believed in these silly tales of platonic love that were revered in songs. Why, it is so very silly, she thought. Love needs to be touched, and kissed, not filled with thin air and promises that would never be fulfilled. Tales and dreams were for little girls and fools, a way to make them close their eyes and submit.

She was certainly neither a fool nor a girl anymore.

But Melanie, despite her quiet maturity and not being a fool, was still so full of the dreams of the latest. It was something that Scarlett had sworn she would do anything to preserve, but which was a curse as well for the pain and reluctant envy it unwittingly brought her. A curse also because Melanie could not be brought to think only of her own happiness, and tended to let others spoil it with their own selfish wants, and in that, it spoiled Scarlett's pleasure.

At least so it seemed to Scarlett, who had no patience for this and was still reeling from the offense Aunt Pittypat had unwittingly given her when Melanie decided the bridesmaids' dresses would be green, and she would wear a ribbon of it herself, to honor the color of the friend that had given her the most support for her union. The scene still irked her mind, even when she would have liked to just forget the whole thing.

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"Green means youth, and hope," Melanie said, admiring the way the dress fell on her friend.

"It means tragedy and death!" Cried pitifully Miss Pitty from her corner, sniffing loudly in her handkerchief.

At this, Scarlett rolled her eyes, Melanie's smile froze, a slight irritation creasing between her brows.

"Only for the stage, Auntie. And we are not in France."

Aunt Pittypat had been overwhelmed by everything from the moment the sunrise announced the new day. The heat triggered her sensitivities, and her dearest vinaigrette could not relieve her anxiety. She had been rethinking everything, and the announcement of the wedding, which had been welcomed indifferently months before, seemed now abhorrent to her once Melanie had put on her wedding gown, a wide, bright smile on her face.

"Oh, why should you marry today, dear?" She cried. "We were so happy, us little women in this little house! Now all of this will be over with this dreadful, dreadful marriage!

"Oh, Auntie, don't be sad," Melanie replied sweetly. "I shall stay with you for a moment. I've talked with Edward about it, and he agrees…"

"He is no gentleman if he can't provide you a home right away!" The cry had been eager and a little rude, so forgetting she was, in her willingness to find anything wrong, that such a thing was contrary to what she had expressed as her wish. She shuddered with a sob, and the cry then turned into nervous whispers. "And you know about his origins… poor dear, you know he's not gently born! Mrs. Elsing just told me yesterday she could still hear the hint of his Cracker descent on his tongue. Oh, my dear, why do you not marry Ashley? We know him, he's a true gentleman, so very quiet and agreeable, Everyone just adores him, Mrs. Whiting had been telling me just yesterday about it, and there would never have been any question of you possibly leaving me!"

For once, the light creasing became an irritated frown on Melanie's brow, and her tone was almost cold as she replied.

"He is the gentleman I chose, and if he was not born that way, he is by heart and soul. Even Mrs. Meade and Mrs. Merriwether agree that he has been nothing but helpful and kind at the hospital, and that he had the traits of a true gentleman. But even if they hadn't said so, I chose him. I love him. Not Ashley, Auntie. And you're wrong. We would have been separated anyway. It is bound to happen when one marries."

The old lady's mouth fell open wide, her eyes almost popping from their orbits.

"Melanie, are you mocking me?"

Melanie's expression melted with the fear of having vexed one she loved so dearly. Oh no, Melanie, Scarlett almost cursed. Why did she let herself be bullied like that when finally she seemed to be taking a stand for herself?

"No, no, Auntie. I did not think, please forgive me. I did not mean to hurt you. Please don't cry!"

This only seemed to exacerbate Miss Pittypat's cry, as the old lady reached for comfort like a little child, her eyes bright with tears.

"Oh, I know I am a burden! I am so frail and delicate. But I cannot help it, Melanie…"

"No, no… Dear heart, no!"

The old hands caught on Melanie's sleeve, so very pleading.

"You won't leave me, will you?"

"Of course, Miz Melly be not leavin' you," Uncle Peter finally intervened soothingly, before sending a disappointed look on Melanie, and a glare towards Scarlett. "Twould be a mean ting for Miz Melly to do."

"Of course not, Auntie, how could I?"

She stared at Scarlett, and her face was crestfallen, as if asking her about this as well, with a sense of hopelessness akin to that of a mother having to leave her child for the first time and knowing it to be so delicate and helpless. But what she saw on her friend's face, the profound irritation and lack of sympathy for the situation she was in seemed to shake her out of resignation and she reached for her, leaving a dumbfounded Aunt Pitty, and a scowling Uncle Peter.

"Come with me!" Melanie demanded fervently, taking both of her hands in hers, and linking them to her arm.

For a moment, as they took the stairs, Melanie talked alone, a joyful lot of little nothings that did not call for reply leaving her mouth, and Scarlett gritted her teeth until it ended on its own, confronted by its own uselessness.

"She doesn't mean wrong," she said nervously. "She doesn't know what she's saying…"

Scarlett said nothing, letting Melanie try to justify it all by herself, until the words of excuses fell hesitantly and doubtfully into her own ears. She stopped in front of Scarlett's door, then turned abruptly toward her with urgency in her eyes.

"Scarlett, give me something of yours!"

Scarlett took a step back, baffled, and the move untucked a strand of her from her hairdo, which she swiftly put back behind her ear in an irritated gesture.

"Melanie, what is it, with this strange idea?"

Melanie's eyes gleamed fervently.

"I need something borrowed from my dearest friend. It's to bring luck!"

"Melanie, that is silly. You're just asking it because you're upset Aunt Pitty is being foolish today."

"Oh, but Scarlett, I really want something of yours!"

Scarlett felt flattered obviously, and expected some insistence, but when expressed, she realized there was something odd with the demand, and she did not quite know why. Perhaps it was the nervosity with which it was asked, the urgency that transpired through Melanie's voice, and the fidgeting fingers laid on her. Something that told her it was not Scarlett by herself that was needed, but something else, something she was not sure she could provide.

What a strange thought to have! She thought with annoyance.

She flattered Melanie, dismissed her worries, and petted her as if she were a child until her friend laughed, and the gestures became less reluctant, more genuine, filled with laughter, and under her fingers, she felt Melanie relaxing and was greeted by her blissful smile. There, she forgot and smiled back.

She had never realized as much how much she had needed friends now that they were here and what she had lacked was now filled, and how much she had been ill-prepared to have them, so focused as she had been on treating relationships, whether with the opposite sex or her own, like a battlefield where she either won or lost.

Yet, she figured she might indeed be a great friend, and be the one to secure her happiness.

She sighed and allowed herself to put her chin on Melanie's shoulder, and her arm around her waist, allowing her to do the same. This was no easy thing for her, as such touches did not come easily, yet Melanie seemed to like it very much, and she could afford the sacrifice, if only for a moment.

"I can't understand why you would tolerate her whining!" She finally allowed herself to say.

"Dearest, she is a kind soul and has never been hurt by anything. Everyone has to coddle her."

"Everyone says the same thing about you, and you hate it."

Melanie shrugged lightly.

"Yes, but I'm young, and she's not. While I can change, she cannot. It is too late now for her. And she's a dear. Why would I want it to change ?"

It seemed to be quite a universal truth, that one cannot expect another to change passed a certain age, and Scarlett wondered at which age such a thing was settled.

Was it too late for Rhett? She wondered. Would he always be that unpredictable man who delighted in caressing, then stinging her?

No, she should not think of this. It would bring her a foolish hope, and she could not afford it. Hope was uncertain and weak, and she had to be strong and anything. And with Rhett, hope was always doomed to fail.

She knew it all too well.

"You don't understand, having not lived with her for all of your life," Melanie suddenly said. "Having lived with someone who cannot take care of herself, and relies on you so deeply. I've learned to view her nervous attempts to keep anyone stronger than her at her side with fondness and worry, for she is quite a defenseless creature that can make herself sick for each dismay, and needs always to be protected. And... I love her for being so helpless and needing me. There was a time when I… I even thought I would be like her, and that only marriage to Ashley could change it."

She sighed.

"When you live with someone for so long, you tend to take some of their traits for your own, and you're not aware of it. At least, until someone makes you aware of it. And when you are, suddenly, it's like you can see clearly, what is yours, and what is not, and who is truly the person in front of you. Just as who you really are."

Her skirts swirled softly, lightly bumping against Scarlett's.

"But I suppose you know that already."

Scarlett raised a brow, perplexed.

"Do I ? And what makes you think so?"

"The way your hands are always busy with something. I've seen your mother do that. And you are mournful and more silent when you are far from Tara. Just like your father. You're never as happy as when that beloved red clay is under your feet. As for Captain Butler…"

Her heart thumped a little at the name, but she tried to appear unaffected, perhaps a little bit scornful.

"What could I possibly have of him?

Apart from the loss of her innocence in so many domains?

A crease appeared between Melanie's brows as she thought about it.

"I'm not quite sure."

"Because there is nothing of it," Scarlett cut.

Melanie let out a little laugh of amusement, dismissing her last remark.

"Darling, you are a living embodiment of your loved ones. And you brought me so much strength. I… I just hope there is some part of me in you as well."

Oh, Melanie, with her declarations! She was so full of them, and Scarlett still did not know what to do with them, and only begrudgingly accepted them, as they always seemed to demand she gave something back for them.

"I've learned to be gentler," she allowed. "Thank to you."

Melanie smiled widely. "That is probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"You're silly, Scarlett dismissed, her cheeks flushing slightly in vexation. And I still don't see what you're on about."

Melanie sneaked a hopeful look at her.

"That's why I need something of yours, sweetheart. So I could feel strong like you…"

"Melanie! You are the last person to need it!"

But Melanie did not answer, only laughed, as she let herself be pushed by Scarlett into the nearest mirror.

"Melanie. You are a lovely bride. You are strong... despite your foolish moments. You don't need any trinkets from me. This is your day."

And my success, she thought. It is enough. It should be enough.

Melanie widened her eyes, so very flushed. Scarlett let out a smile.

"See! That's what I learned from you. And Randa too, I suppose."

"Oh, dear Randa!" Melanie smiled with fondness. "Dear, very dear Scarlett!"

In the end, she still gave something of herself. A little ribbon of cotton which Scarlett finally consented to hook on Melanie's bodice, and she tried to tell herself it was a little something that would tell the world that her friend's happiness was her triumph.

But that triumph did not quite taste as good as she would have liked, for Scarlett had never been one to enjoy living vicariously. These were crumbs, and she took them nonetheless. But they could not feed her completely.

Melanie looked at herself once again in the mirror and smiled with satisfaction.

"There. I am ready to be married."

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However, Scarlett felt sure Randa was not ready.

From her, only a brief note had been sent, telling them she would come at nine, and that she had things to tell them that could not be said through a simple letter.

Scarlett had her own idea of what Randa wanted to say. The auburn-haired girl had not been discreet in her suspicion of Melanie's fiancé.

As for Scarlett, she did not give a fig whether he had trifled once with Randa's sister. Melanie loved him, and he so obviously loved her. He had asked her in marriage, not Hetty Tarleton. From that moment, any flirtation had to end.

Would she care if she was in Hetty's place? She tried not to think of it, and though she wanted to believe she would be able to leave the scene with the dignity she had left in that situation, she was honest enough with herself to think that if she loved and wanted a man, giving him up would not be so easy.

It still wasn't.

But no matter what could happen, she would have to prevent it. Thus she decided to personally attend to Randa just as soon as she arrived.

Had she been completely secure at that moment, she would certainly have been reassured by the fact that if Randa and her family wished for the wedding not to take place because of private reasons, they would have intervened much earlier, and with a great ruckus. Surely it meant that nothing substantial could be brought forward by them to do so. Beatrice Tarleton certainly would have moved heaven and earth, and raged against the wind to stop it. But Beatrice Tarleton was still mourning the loss of many of her pure-bred stallions to the war, and of the men of the family of course, and like all ladies of the County, she perhaps had no time for a prodigal daughter, her energy and resources entirely devoted to the Cause that had already taken all of her sons from her.

However, the idea that Randa might do something dramatic was not an extraordinary idea to Scarlett, who felt the apprehension tickle her nerves unpleasantly. Yes, it was certainly like Randa to wait until the last minute to make her point, she decided, and she had to watch her closely like a hawk.

For a moment, she wished for the train to be late. To be stopped by Yankees, or a simple technical thing. Anything so that her arrival be delayed until the next day.

Well, she was not to berate herself for these thoughts. After all, wasn't it Rhett that had said Yankees were like Southerners, but with bad manners? A stop, just a simple little stop. Certainly, that was not a horrible thing to ask.

However, this was not to be as the train came to the station with its great whistle and smoke, smothering in what already was a hot day, and from it soon came Miss Tarleton and a servant holding her things and grumbling at her side. She looked right and left, and as she saw Scarlett, her lips widened in a relieved smile and she raised her hand in greeting. Her steps were brisk as she jumped off the train and met her on the platform, taking care to give a kiss to each of her cheeks.

Randa's copper auburn hair was tucked in a net. Some loose tendrils had escaped, curling at the front, and Scarlett tried to take it only as a consequence of the travel, not a lack of care to make an effort for the event. She was still also in traveling clothes, but perhaps she thought there would be a little time...

"You should have changed," Scarlett could not help but say.

"Is it all the greeting I am to receive?" Randa exclaimed. "And here, I was happy to see you!"

Relaxing, they embraced each other and began to make their way, trying to ignore the shadow following them.

"I see you've got a new hound sniffing around you," Randa idly remarked.

"My fiancé hired him for my safety."

Something that still irked her for that short note of explanation she had received, without any attempt to say it to her in person.

To say 'my fiancé' was still strange, but also oddly satisfying for Scarlett. And yet, it had its bitter aftertaste, for she could not fool herself on what was between them.

Randa smiled, her eyes narrowing with a little bit of vexation.

"Oh, forgive me, I did forget to send congratulations, it seemed! However, the last time I saw you, it seemed to me they were clearly not in order."

Scarlett's mouth tightened into a thin line.

"It's complicated."

"As it always is between the two of you. I leave you one moment, and here comes disaster!" Randa cried. "You girls are the most tiresome créatures I know!"

Scarlett cracked a smile. How she had missed Randa's ways! People tended to be too serious these days, and the fact that Randa seemed in such humor seemed good, very good, and not alarming.

"Nowadays, I aim to make the less enemies possible."

"And how well it works, indeed," her red-haired friend retorted.

This was a shot that, however clumsily it had been done, and with no true intent to hurt, hit its mark. Randa stopped, and pressed her arm with her fingers, concerned.

"Scarlett! You, worrying about this ?"

Scarlett squared her shoulders, uplifting her chin, unwittingly drawing a haughty expression on her pale face.

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Worrying about it? Perhaps a little. Perhaps just a little bit. For a brief moment. A brief moment when, as she made her way to the station, Rhett's man seemingly barely a breath away from her, she had caught a glimpse of a scene, a door being shyly opened to a man, a pale head demurely down with a flush on the cheek. Until it rose and eyes met.

Eavesdroppers tended to see and hear interesting things, or so Rhett had once said in other words, so it was no surprise that Scarlett found herself lingering a little to stare. But that lingering was enough to draw attention from the woman who was the victim of it.

India had looked at her with her wide, lashless eyes, and as suspicion drew her brows together, she had closed the door to Captain Ashburn with great fracas.

However, from the look on that man's face, this did not deter him. In fact, it seemed to raise his interest.

This trick, Scarlett knew too well for having learned it herself, but she doubted India was using it with another intent than out of spite for the raven-haired lady that had wanted to behave benevolently toward her. Certainly, she thought of a bad joke, even though Scarlett had never been known for one of those.

Poor India. It was her loss, really, if she could not take that chance that had literally been thrown at her, Scarlett shrugged, feeling a bit irritated that what she considered to be her attempt at a generous demeanor was once again rejected, when she would have wanted to be thanked for it.

It seemed to her that when she tried to do good, people appeared to be disbelieving and distrusting, and when she wasn't and was minding her own affairs, some would put some grand thought to her silence (though often seeing their own opinion in it). It bewildered her so, but perhaps she should resign herself to it.

A swift idea came to her that maybe it was also, though to a lesser extent, the case with Rhett. But as swiftly as it came, it disappeared, never entirely grasped, so deep was the belief that this man knew her better than herself, and the moment he did not, it was because he cared not really enough to understand.

Randa took back her arm to hers, sending her a gentler smile, stopping her in her reminiscing.

"The reason why they hate you is the reason why we love you. You're bold when they're not. When you want something, you get it, and for that, you are ruthless. You've got a voice and a brain, and you want to show them."

She cocked her head, for a moment thoughtful, then threw a smirk at Scarlett.

"Well, I have to add as well, in a need to be lucid, that you don't usually like girls."

"Why do I like you again ?"

Randa grinned.

"Because I'm clinging to you. I and Melanie are, and you're not to be rid of us. Though you certainly tried."

"As if you did not, yourself! I thought it was because you were bored."

Randa's shoulders raised softly in a dismissive shrug, as she dared not even deny it.

"That too. You are a funny woman, even when you don't mean to be funny. Especially when you don't mean to be funny."

"That's… not very nice to say."

"Oh, and you're quite bullheaded when you want it…

"Enough, enough! I should have known I could never get only nice things from you."

"Well, if you want only nice, sugar-coated things, you just have to ask Melly. She is a gifted one at that," Randa retorted. "And how would it serve you? You are spoiled, and you are bold. Be spoiled and bold. You have to be, for so many want to be, but don't dare ask for it."

"Oh, you and Melly! I'm not sure I like this kind of compliment."

"Whatever Melanie said, I'm sure she was right about it."

Randa stopped for a moment, and seemed to consider what she ought to say. Her teeth gnawed at the lip before she finally decided, her voice a little dry, but strong.

"Scarlett. You have to help me."

Scarlett's eyes fluttered, as she tried to feign ignorance. But she only wanted to groan in dismay. It had been going so well!

"About what?"

"We need to stop this."

"What? No! Don't say anything, Randa. Again with your suspicions?"

"She has to know," Randa relented. "There can be no doubt about it. It is exactly as I thought."

"And how can you be so sure?"

"I need you to trust me in that. And Melanie needs to know it as well."

Scarlett reeled, scoffing.

"No, she doesn't! Ignorance can be bliss, and she can afford to live in it!"

"That's no way to live."

"If she decided to have that man, she should, and I'm not to stop her when she loves him, and he does her!"

"That man has no feelings, and she needs to be protected from herself. We, as her friends…"

"Oh, that's rich! You say that Melanie is right, then you say she can't be? That she needs to be protected from herself? Where are your great ideas about women?"

"I should say the same, as you want her to decide without knowing!"

Now, they were facing each other, their cheeks subtly reddened with anger, though they had managed to keep a low tone in their argument.

"I won't let you tell her," Scarlett hissed.

"You are not on my side, then," Randa said, before adding with urgency. "I'll tell him! I'll tell him, and if he has an ounce of honor…"

"Hush, do you want to make a scandal?"

"There you are," Drawled that deep, drawling voice that had Scarlett's heart stop for a moment before she realized her place. Her mouth drew in a 'o' as she tried to regain her composure. "Everyone had been waiting for the both of you."

Rhett was dressed for the occasion in an elegant three-piece suit that should have been ridiculous with this heat, but on him, it seemed like a second skin. She had the temptation to pull violently that smart little dark green cravat that was tied around his throat, and to throw some clay to that pristine white shirt, if only to make him look less handsome. With a mocking smile, as if divining her thought, he took care to bow lightly, in that offhanded way of his which made the courtesy seem a little like a farce. "Hello, Miss Randa. Scarlett."

"Hello, Mr. Butler." She said in acknowledgment, before turning her head, just as subtly as to be noticed by him without it having to be questioned by others.

He would have certainly remarked on that, but Randa, taking notice of the atmosphere between them, took care to draw the attention towards her. Her voice was still forceful, still a little resentful.

"My mother is upset, Captain Butler. She heard that not satisfied to have your speculations, you and your friends have also sold meat that was no pork, nor beef, not even chicken, but horses. It sure broke her heart."

"Far from me to want to break the heart of so delicate a woman," Rhett's brow raised as he tried to meet Scarlett's eyes in a silent question. "But I'm sure she'll agree that starving men can't be picky with what they eat, Miss Randa. Pork and beef are not so easy to find, while many horses, unsuitable for warfare, still linger on the battlefield."

"And of course, you're not benevolent enough to give it for free."

"Nothing is ever for free."

"Of course, you think so," Randa retorted. "I've heard congratulations are in order."

Rhett bowed curtly, his eyes lingering on Scarlett who had remained silent, aloof even, during the exchange. They continued walking toward the church, in front of which a few people had gathered to discuss before the ceremony.

"Your friend certainly made me the happiest of men in accepting me."

Randa bit back a remark, before finally deciding to do nothing of the sort. Scarlett took his offered arm and matched his steps.

"Should I say you look lovely?" he slipped quietly to her ear.

"Oh no, don't," She gritted her teeth, trying to keep an eye on Randa, still at her side, but alert like a fox. "Then, I should say you are handsome."

Handsome as only a devil could be.

He let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"Like a devil, you seem to think," and she startled. He had always seemed to know some of her thoughts, and she had almost forgotten it. Yet, it had never been those that mattered truly, had it? She pursed her lip in dismay. "But fitting, I do like to make my own deal. Have you given up that silly notion of imposing conditions on me?"

"Oh, the list is only growing."

He looked at her from head to toe, with his piercing eyes that seemed not to miss anything.

"As are your restrictions on yourself, I see. It should not be very comfortable to breathe. Beware of what you're willing to pay for it."

"My corset is done the right way," she gritted her teeth.

His eyes glinted with mischief.

"Oh, your corset ? My, Scarlett, what a very unproper topic to have with a man…"

She almost flung at him, her eyes flashing angrily, but just the sight of the eager, belligerent light in his black eyes was enough to calm her fire, at least just a little. Her arm unlocked automatically from Randa's as her body faced him, ready to fight.

He wanted her to lash out. He wanted her to be vulnerable, so very distracted by her own emotions he would just have to remain calm and cutting to put her down.

She huffed and lifted her chin, trying to continue her way as if nothing had happened.

"You should see Wade. He's dashing in his little suit."

"Of course he is. I am sure you quite prepared the cub for the occasion."

"Do you want to see him ?"

She felt him examining her, yet did not turn to meet his eyes.

He would think she was eager to show him, and she could not have that.

"Another time, perhaps," He finally said. "The boy must be quite excited, with all the agitation and heat. You should not have brought him."

"I'll have you know he's a proper little gentleman, and he's waiting quietly for his mama in the church, where it is nice and cold, with his aunt Pitty."

He chuckled.

"I don't know who I pity more, the boy or Miss Pittypat."

He leaned in, as if in confidence, and she had to refrain the shudder from his intoxicating proximity.

"So, Scarlett, are you happy with your success ?"

"My success ?"

"The marriage between Mr. Goldin and Miss Melly. I heard you spent quite the effort to make it happen."

"Hush, crude thing! One should not be talking about money !"

His eye gleamed in amusement.

"Who talked about money? I was only mentioning your efforts and gentle support. Talking about money is quite vulgar, isn't it?

She opened her mouth, then closed it, dismayed at having taken his bait so swiftly and stupidly.

"Oh, don't get your feathers ruffled, my dear. Now, are you going to tell me why is it so important to you ?"

"Well, they love each other, so…"

"Oh, so you do have romantic ideas, after all."

"I…"

"Scarlett, I believe you lost your friend on the way."

She blinked, then stared.

Randa was gone.

Her heart thumping with panic, she pressed his arm urgently.

"Rhett, where is the groom?"

His eyes widened, dumbfounded, but he did not have the time to reply.

"Scarlett, Melanie is waiting for you," Suellen cut in. "Oh, forgive me, Captain Butler."

Scarlett turned to her abruptly, her eyes widened with anxiety.

"Suellen, where is Randa?"

Suellen looked at her strangely, wondering why she should be so lacking in a manner to talk to her so.

"Oh, I saw her going to..."

But before she could even finish her sentence, Randa's cry answered it for them, and as they drew closer, they could see the young woman all red from her anger, preventing an unfortunate Edward Goldin from even entering the church.

"She left her own family for you! Carried a baby for you. Don't you have any shame? You seduced her, you left her, and she left us, and now she's destitute and alone! How could you?"

The hapless Edward seemed entirely baffled by the belligerence in Randa's stance, and Scarlett had to admit even she was a little scared.

"A baby? Your sister, seduced…"

This did not look good, thought Scarlett. She had to intervene.

"And you say I'm bullheaded!" Scarlett stepped forward, whispering angrily as she tried to bring her friend back to her side. "Randa, stop it. You're making a scene."

The scene was already in motion, unfortunately, and was already gathering attention. Scarlett almost cursed.

However, Randa would have none of it. Her eyes seemed almost out of their orbits, nostrils wide and huffing with the strength of her outrage. She shook her head and her body, as if barely bitten by a mosquito, and her rage continued overflowing, like the lava of a volcano.

"No, I won't! Is it because you're a Cracker? Or had your raising with the Yankees made you an enemy of Southern ladies, and you wanted to ruin them? Fair job of it, you did, ruining her with songs and empty promises, but I won't let you ruin Melanie!"

For a moment, he looked utterly confused, until the words came to him, hitting him as square on the face as a slap.

His mind seemed to run wild until a conclusion was drawn. He paled.

"Songs? You said she was... No, I… It can't be..."

"Randa, enough!" Scarlett tried again, this time, her voice taking a higher tone that made the Tarleton girl finally turn to her in earnest, and in this, also the heads of several bystanders who finally had to leave their pretense of not taking attention to the scandal unfolding. A gasp was heard, and a move in the crowd, like Moses cutting the sea in half, but none of that was taken into consideration by the main actors of this unfortunate scene, except perhaps Rhett who smoothly took back Scarlett's arm to draw her back to his side.

She was tempted to stare at him, dumbfounded, when Randa's cry put her back to it.

"Stop it as well! That man trifled with my sister, leaving her bereft like a rogue that he is, and you defend him?!"

"Edward?" A hesitant little voice cut it. "What is going on?"

All heads turned to it, and to Scarlett, it seemed suddenly like a ridiculous scene from a terrible play, and she felt for a moment strangely out of it, a simple spectator knowing it was going to end badly, but powerless to do anything.

And how much she wanted to do something!

Her pleading eyes met with Rhett's resigned ones, and for a moment, she thought they were both of them linked in this.

"Melanie," Edward's voice broke the silence.

Melanie was only a few feet away from them, her long veil blown softly by the Georgian wind, gently caressing the red clay. A little figure in white, more an angel than a woman, its frailty making it seem as if she was about to fly away at any moment.

Edward looked at her. Looked at her as if she was a dream, and that dream seemed so reachable he could touch it. The corner of his lips trembled in the beginning of a smile, and his hand rose. Yet his eyes blinked, and the dream faded. The hope stayed still, followed by a swift determination that darkened his face and gave a maddening glow to his eyes.

He kneeled before his betrothed, and the red clay splattered on him like blood. He took her hands, and enjoined her to look at him.

"Melanie, I didn't… You have to believe me!"

She blinked, poor dear, so very confused.

"How can I not?"

"And yet I… Eugenio, it's him, it's… Oh, Lord, I cannot believe... But it's this girl... It has to be..."

"Melanie, he's a liar. You cannot seriously believe him!" Randa tried to cut.

But Melanie's eyes widened in understanding, an understanding Scarlett did not share, and that made Randa pause for a moment, her brow creasing in confusion. As for Melanie herself as it sank in… she seemed about to faint.

"Melanie… dearest, sweetest Melanie…" Her fiancé pleaded. "What shall I do?

She paled and closed her eyes. For a moment, she said nothing while her fiancé caressed her hands, his gaze ardent on her. Then, from beyond the veil, her little mouth opened, the voice trembling as she seemed to gather the courage to say the next words.

"Do… do what honor binds you."

There, Scarlett thought triumphantly. The masquerade would end. Edward Goldin was bound to Melanie. His honor was to her.

But the man continued to look at her, and their hands clasped together shook as he tried to make her look at him.

Come on, Melanie, she thought. He is waiting for your every word… I have no idea what this is all about, but it can end simply if you say so…

But instead, Melanie's voice has a hesitant quality to it.

"She needs it more than I…"

Edward blanched.

The young woman gulped, and through the lace of her veil, Scarlett could see her chin lifting slightly in an attempt of strength as she tried to take her hands back from his grip.

His plea became more insistent, his eyes desperate.

"Melanie… Melanie, please look at me… Look at me…"

"I- I release you from your promise to me," She continued with tears in her voice, but he kept clinging, just as she shook her head, the veil trembling as she did.

"Oh, this is unbearable…"

Scarlett shook her head, attempting to get rid of the feeling of utter confusion that prevailed, and tried to take a step ahead, but Rhett prevented her. His arm, tense and strong through his vest, blocked her way and put her back to his side.

"Scarlett, don't. It is over now"

Her head turned to him, startled and a little bit hurt. However, he was not looking at her. He was staring at them, staring with a little ironic smile and tight jaw, with the air of someone who had watched the same story unfold so many times that he was not surprised by its denouement.

"But…" She struggled, trying to get out.

"Oh, God, help me!" cried Melanie.

Edward's body fell back, as if stricken. He took a step ahead, then back, for a moment faltering as Melanie whirled herself away, her little hand covering her veiled face. His features were distorted by a crestfallen expression that made it seem the earth at his feet was crumbling down, and for a moment he stared at that dust, his feet uneasy, and nodded. Nodded as if to try to resign himself to it, resign himself to the fall.

"I- I understand. And I'm... so very sorry."

He nodded once more, numb and miserable, before turning away, finally making his way to the door of the church. They all looked at him, wide eyes following his every move, trying to guess what he was about to do.

But Rhett already knew.

"You're a fool, boy," Rhett cursed softly.

"I've presumed too much," Edward Goldin mumbled, defeated. "I should have known. Now is the reckoning."

The door opened, and Scarlett heard Rhett whispering some last words.

"If you think that, then you're an even bigger fool."

She stared at him, curious, but could not meet his eyes. He only looked ahead, his eyes flashing a little bit angrily at the waste as the door opened, and wood creaked under the many persons from the church turning to see what was going on.

Edward took some steps inside and bowed before them, and Scarlett reflected that he had never looked as much a gentleman as at this moment, when he was about to lose everything.

"There will be no wedding today. It is no fault of Miss Melanie Hamilton, who is..." He struggled, his breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, it was like he would choke on the words. "The most precious jewel of your society. She deserves better than I, and I-… I shall regret her always. Take…" He swallowed what seemed like a sob as suddenly his head lowered, chin buried to the neck. His reddish mane shook for a moment and he lifted it again. "By God, take care of her!

Then he turned away with unseeing eyes, away from the cold, dumbfounded silence of the church, to the noisy heat of the street.

Melanie's wide, thunderstruck eyes sought his, her body turning toward him like a flower to the sun, but to no avail. His step was swift, his head lowered, the expression of his face dark, blurry, a strange contrast to his red-gold hair.

Randa stared, her head lowered, with a stricken expression that was the mark of her shock. For the first time in her life, she was slowly realizing she may have been jumping to conclusions, and it had cost her friend's happiness, and however she still wanted to believe she was in the right, her memory could only point to her that the moments when she had thought she had gotten the answers, no true conclusion had been given to her. She could not be sure of anything. She who had prided herself in seeing through people, was forced to admit that the image of Edward Goldin she had created in her mind was not the man that had kneeled in front of Melanie and taken her words like a sacred oath.

Worse than that, she had the inkling that she would owe him more than the loss of Melanie in the future, and she could do nothing about it if she valued her sister. Because if he was determined to do it right, then he would prove to be needed by them, however low his origins were.

Her trail of thoughts was broken by Scarlett, who had finally had enough of being restrained.

"Oh, you're such a fool!" She cried. "Why, Melanie? You had love secured at your feet. Why would you let it go? Why would you throw it away like that? You are ruining everything!"

Melanie blinked. Her hands twisted, clasped together as the lips trembled and the eyes dazed, unseeing.

"Honor…"

Scarlett stamped her foot.

"You people and that word! Honor, honor! Talking about honor and crying about it! Honor won't soothe you when you're lonely, Melanie! If you love him, why did you let him go? Why, Melanie, why?"

In all her rage, she did not see the strange composure of her own sister, staring widely ahead as the words were pronounced. Nor the way she slowly took a step back, and another.

"Scarlett, that's enough." Rhett intervened quietly, putting a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Let me go, you cad, or I…"

Melanie's façade crumbled as she blinked, horrified, and finally all fell onto her. "Edward… Edward…. Oh, what have I done?"

"Melly!" Randa exclaimed, finally taking action and coming to her side in time to catch her.

Melanie fainted in a slow movement that made her seem like a little girl drowning in an ocean of silk. The fall seemed to stop the time for a moment, until suddenly the time went on, swifter as if to catch up with what had been lost. In an instant, bystanders were not just bystanders anymore. A mess of people gathered around her, and in their eagerness to do something for that poor girl that had been left at the altar, almost tramped Scarlett. Strong arms rescued her, and she found herself raving in them like a little child, her hands crumbling the pristine white shirt and impeccable jacket with a wrath that had doubled as it was fed by the crowd.

It happened in a blur, and suddenly all seemed to disappear but that contrast of black and white clothes she was pressed on, and a warmth that was more unnerving as it was associated with a scent that was bound to break her.

She raged and fumed until eventually, he let go of her, and she felt the freshness of the room at her back, on the colon he leaned her on. However, it was like she could see nothing, nothing but her anger, and him, as flippant as ever, unreachable even as he tried to soothe her with a soft, drawing voice and cautious gestures.

"Easy, easy, tigress... calm down…"

"Do not ask me to calm down, Rhett!" She cried. "Oh, this is such a waste!"

"It is, indeed. But it was very predictable," he replied smoothly as he closed the doors of the robing room behind him, and on a much, much softer tone, he added some words, though Scarlett wasn't sure if it wasn't more for his own benefit than hers. "Love matches between honorable people of different worlds are often those that go awry.."

She darted her eyes at him.

"Is it? If it is so why didn't you do anything?"

"It is not my business to ensure others' are going well. If people make terrible choices, they are their own. I wash my hands of them."

"And you said he was your friend! And you feel nothing!"

"I never said that."

"No, of course, the illustrious Rhett Butler wouldn't admit having friends.

"You were mine not so long ago," he said softly.

Oh, he dared...!

"Was I? I'm beginning to think you don't have friends, you have pets !"

"You purposefully misunderstand me. Calm…"

"You purposefully make me! Don't you dare ask me again to calm down !" She calmed down a little as she realized her voice was about to break, just enough so her vision seemed to clear, and she thought about it, her head aching with the swiftness of her thoughts. "But… I guess you are right."

He looked at her warily.

"About what ?"

"Love is the problem. It only makes things go awry. Why bother ?"

"That, my dear, is another instance you misunderstand me. Scarlett…

He took her by the shoulders, his fingers so strong she felt sure they would leave a bruise. But she did not care. She could only nod, the logic unbeatable to her.

"Oh, I understand very well. Love shouldn't be relied on for happiness. It is only a waste of a good heart. I understand it, just as you told me. You just get chained to someone who will always get the upper hand and whip you, or abandon you for other reasons. You are right, now I see that ! One should never marry for love, for love only makes à marriage difficult! How right you are indeed, and I…"

"Scarlett, you're being hysterical," he said through gritted teeth, shaking her lightly, as if to wake her from a deep slumber.

"But it's true, isn't it? You are certainly not marrying me for love, you just want… you just want…"

She paused, as even to her mind, she could not figure out the answer to this question, so dumbfounded she was over all of this, which she had thought she knew, yet which continued to escape her. Her vivid green eyes stared at his impeccable water-silk necktie, her mouth trembling a little, and nostrils still flaring from the excess of her frustration.

"Why do you want me as a wife, Rhett?" she asked with a white little voice. "Why did you have to go to that extent to have me? Now you can tell me. You said once it was to be a father to Wade, and yet I have yet to see you trying these days."

He said nothing to that, his jaws clenched painfully as he slowly let go of her as if she were a fragile pot he had been afraid to let down, before all so nonchalantly leaning over her with his fists in his pockets.

She took strength from the change, from the raw seething burning bright embers in his dark eyes.

"I think it pricks your pride, doesn't it, to have me not fawning over you, flattering you, like that woman. The great, handsome, powerful Rhett Butler…"

"Oh, you think I'm all that? How flattering."

This was meant to be flippant, a distraction, but it was cutting, and it made her think that for once, she was getting somewhere he did not want her to look.

She forced herself not to reply to that.

"I think it nags you, awaken that … spirit of hunter you claim to have."

"You never were able to discern the true motives of a man," He quipped. "But I see you're overwhelmed, and won't listen to reason."

"Great balls of fire, I could kill you!"

"No, you could not," He said quietly. "As for your question, may it satisfy you to know that I'm curious about what it could be? I never had a wife, after all, and I was never closed about making new experiences. Why not you? I know your vixenish ways already, saw you grow into a woman, and you have my son. That does seem promising."

She pointed her finger at him, straight as the righteous colon of justice.

"Ha! Curiosity killed the cat."

"That's an easy one, so my dear, you should know that I'll reply: 'But satisfaction brought it back"

"I won't give you any satisfaction. You could marry your whore. You know her way. It is said she also has a son of yours. Doesn't that sound promising?" She spat. "Or do you not want her because she's from a different world than yours?"

"Good, at least you know that part of my life. Another child I'm in charge of," He replied in a clipped tone. "Though I have to disappoint your deluded little attempt at imagination, for had you searched for details, you would have realized the boy is far too old to be mine. "

She stared and deflated, for on his face, she could see no lie, but perhaps a little bit of scorn, and she could not bear it directed at her.

"Oh."

He bowed his head swiftly, before turning away.

"I believe we should stop there before we make further fools of ourselves. I hope when you come back you'll have reflected on your words, and cease to act like a spoiled little girl that can't look past her pert little nose."

"You asked to marry that spoiled little girl," She managed to say finally, defeated, just before he even got to the door. "Or do you want to take it back?"

For a moment, he said nothing, turned silently, and stared at her with his dark, impenetrable eyes, and she was left hanging on a thread, waiting for him to say finally he did not want to be with her, not really, and that he would leave, once again.

Perhaps I should, he said quietly.

But I don't. Was in his mind, but he did not say it.

It angered him, the fact that she so obviously wanted him to. Angered him, and also saddened him, though he tried to push that weak emotion behind him.

Then came indignation, and it made his fists clench white and his jaw painful with the words he prevented himself from saying.

Couldn't she just be happy? Couldn't she let go of her pride and just give in to him? What did she want from him? Groveling?

Oh, no, she knew him better than that. And yet, she still asked for it.

Her father had indulged her too much, and spoiled her so she thought she could change him. Him, of all the men!

He was Rhett Butler. Whatever he did, he did not regret, for whatever he did was the act of a free, rational man. He did not grovel.

Except, he was not so free and rational, now, was he?

He could not even comprehend it, could not understand, no, could not accept why there was still that hold on him pulling him back, wanting for him to take her into his arms, and to hell with it all. He left it lingering as he bowed sharply and left her in her glorious misery, and he wished he had emerged the victor of it.

Yet, it was to forget he had already lost many years ago.

It was to forget that this spoiled little girl… he did want to spoil her.

But would she let him?

"Take your fill of clay, for it might not hold long once the Yankees get their hands on it..." He could not help but say, the venom dropping subtly in his tone. "Go and come back a woman."

And before she even had time to retort, he was gone, closing softly the door behind him.

What even did it mean? Was it a threat? A mean to distract her?

How dared he try to make her feel like he was sending her back, as a punishment? How dare he just leave her like this, after these few chosen words that made her feel like a child?

There, the anger came back to her, and she forgot she ever had felt defeated by his words.

"You're always doing this," she said through gritted teeth. "I hate it, I hate it!"

Turning his back on her, dismissing any question she had about him.

And once, just once, it came to her that he was acting like a coward.

She stayed frozen for a moment, baffled, before the word took root and anger fed on it.

Rhett Butler was a coward, and the next time he would turn away from her, she would throw something at his handsome face!

Or perhaps shoot him.

The man was on the platform waiting for the next train, straight and high as honor, and he looked ahead, a statue clad in gray unbothered by the smothering heat. Beautiful, almost unreal like a picture. A picture from another time, another place.

"Ross!"

It tumbled from her lips as her heart pounded quickly, desperate to be heard, to be understood and taken out of her, while fearing it was just left to fall at his feet.

She had to try. She had to! She had been hesitant that morning when she received his farewell note, but now, she could not stay like this!

Please, God, don't make him leave!

It was the desperate plea of a girl who did not want the man she loved to leave, even as she knew he did not really know all of her, for if he did… Oh, if he did, there was no turning back, she would never see him again!

It felt like a curse, something that had been there lingering even before she was even born. A touch of a tragic fate.

He turned to her, and Suellen thought she had misunderstood, that he would reproach her being so familiar and so lacking decorum as she was being, disheveled and calling him by his given name. To call him Ross, and not Mr. Butler ! Ross, the intimacy of it, as if they were on the same level, two people bound by it, claiming freely their relationship to the world…

And yet, on that note... On that note, he had been so tender, so gentleman-like and romantic, telling her he would make his way, hoping to get a last glance of her, before doing what he ought to have done long ago...

Her heart pounded to her ears as she tried to regain her breath.

Dear Lord, what was she thinking? She had run like a hoyden and must look a fright.

She tried to push away the dust from her skirts, but to no avail. And her hands, her fine hands that she had prided herself were just like a lady's should, they were dusty as well, of that red dust she had never liked.

"I've thought about what you said. I thought it hard, and this may be the queerest thing I've ever done, for it is the first time I would choose the option that doesn't bring me the most comfort and credit. It is not ladylike, it is not proper, but it is true. And it's perhaps the rightest thing."

She took a step forward, her hands reaching out to him.

"I cannot love from afar as you suggest. And if you really do love me, you would not ask me to. You would not ask me to hide."

He stared at her, and she could not know what he thought. These eyes were impenetrable for her, and perhaps because of that, she felt a thrill in her heart that made her bold.

"Don't you have enough? Of expectations you will never be able to fulfill? Of being exactly what others want you to be, and not yourself?"

She took another step. She had to believe. She had to make him see.

"I do. I do, and you may hate me, but I love you, and if there's something I've learned today is that I don't want to ever let love go away. I'd give up on any expectations if only I could be with you! Call me coarse, return to your wife if you want, but this is how I feel, and I don't care if it means to you I'm a bad woman!"

Slowly, he shook his head.

"I'm not returning to my wife."

She faltered.

"You're not?"

"How could I? For I thought it too. And I've been hating myself, making you believe I was a gentleman, because in the end… in the end, I'm not! I am the biggest fraud that ever was!"

A sharp laugh, almost crazed came out of his lips, his eyes desperate, and she blinked, her heart stopping.

"It'd be like returning to a life that is not my own. I don't want it. I never wanted it. Father wanted it. And yet, how sweet some parts have been! The look in my father's eyes, telling me I've done right… The rice fields, the nice people of Charleston, and the Saint Cecilia Balls… you never went, I think, to one of these balls. The music, the dance… farewell, tender illusions. I shall never be a part of you again."

Her body trembled with apprehension.

"So.. . What are you going to do?"

He smiled wistfully.

"Disappear. Then my family will be satisfied, thinking I died valiantly. They won't know I fled like a coward. Disappear, but not uncomfortably, I think," he added with cynicism. "I suppose I was mercenary enough to accept Rhett's money…"

"Then I'd disappear too," She swiftly said. "I want to be with you."

He shook his head.

"Haven't you heard what I said ? I'm a terrible rake. I can give you no name. No certainty. You deserve…"

"I don't want any!"

"I cannot spoil you…"

"No one can afford to be spoiled these days."

He turned his head away and she relented, stifling the need to take his wrist to make her look at her.

Oh, if only he could look at her!

"I have no place anywhere else! I don't want any other place! But… do you love me?"

If he left… then, what was the point?

It seemed bigger than her, the desperate cry of a woman who did not want her lover to go. Because if he did….if he did…

He looked at her strangely, and for a moment she was stopped in her eagerness, hesitant like a fawn learning to walk.

"Do you? Even knowing what kind of man I am? A failure of a gentleman!"

He was like her! He was like her!

She swallowed, her eyes tearful with shattering hope as he turned away, visibly disappointed with her lack of answer.

No! No!

"I too did everything to be a perfect lady," she said hurriedly. "I tried to be good, to be proper. But in the end, it is never enough. It is never I that thrives. I am never enough, and it used to drive me oh so bitter to see that those who did even not try had to have their way. It feels as if I've been repressing so much of myself for so long. But now, I have enough. And I've lied to you, if you think I'm a great lady, for as much as I would have liked to be, there is something I cannot control, and it is wild, and it wants. It wants more, it wants to be a heroine. And it wants you.

"With you… With you, I feel I can be more than that. Whatever….whatever you feel… I understand it. And I've never loved you more. For I see you now. And if you run away, I want to run away with you, for I've seen how it ends, when two people in love are forced to separate, and I don't want that heartbreak for myself! Do… do you?"

Please love me. Dear God, please make him do!

Slowly, he turned toward her, and the rays of sunshine seemed to caress softly the contours of his features, adding gold to his hair and sparkles to his now clear eyes. He took her hands and kissed them. She trembled.

"How could you ever doubt it?" His voice came, thick and rich to her ears. "Even if I hadn't, how could I not now? I love you with all my heart. But would it truly be enough for you?"

And then the sky cleared. She smiled, finally letting the tears fall down her face.

"It is more than enough."

It was flickering, that light. But to her, in the hotness of the Georgian sun, it seemed to burn as bright as a fire.