"GOOD. YOU'RE HOME," BEATRICE SAID WITHOUT TURNING as the girls hurried in the back door. "Elaina, your mother said she might not make it here before the Masque, something's come up at work. And Cassandra, you and I have a few things to discuss. I just got the most interesting phone call from Eloise, down at the shop." She turned to look at her daughter and scanned past the two dark haired girls in the kitchen doorway twice before realizing that one of them was Sandy. "Dear God in Heaven! What have you done!" She looked horrified.

"Mom…"

"People kill for hair like yours, and you, you just –"

"Mom –"

"Oh no. No, I won't have it. I won't. You're just going to have to undo whatever it is that you've done. That's all there is to it. Oh, oh, your hair…"

"Mom!"

"Don't you take that tone of voice with me, young lady. You're in enough trouble as it is." Elaina choked on her soda, and Sandy tried desperately to stop her eyes from rolling. "I saw that!"

"Mom, it washes out," Sandy tried.

"Then you'd better get your tail upstairs and hop right on in that shower."

"Scarlett O'Hara has black hair, Mom."

"I don't care what kind of hair Scarlett O'Hara has! Yours is blonde, and it's going to stay that way!"

"But Matt's going as Rhett!" Sandy cried, stamping her foot. Her mother glared at her, and Sandy's mouth snapped shut.

"Elaina, dear, if you'll excuse us for just a minute." It was not a request. "I'm sure you know your way around enough to be alright for just a tick."

"Yes ma'am."

Beatrice smiled at Elaina before turning back to her daughter. She crooked a finger at her. "You come with me." Sandy dutifully followed her mother out of the room, casting one last, long-suffering look back at Elaina. Elaina delicately stuffed her fist into her mouth to muffle the laughter.

Sandy stalked into the study ahead of her mother and threw herself onto her couch as Beatrice pulled the French doors shut behind them. "This isn't really about the hair, is it?"

"No, it is not." Beatrice couldn't help but glance at the unnaturally dark hair as she spoke. "Well, not entirely. When are you going to be responsible and start acting like a young lady?"

"That's not fair! I couldn't let her say… what she said about me without saying something back!"

"I don't care if she attacked you. Giver her enough rope, and she'll hang herself. She's already got a nice sized noose tied; there was no reason for you to go down with her!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I was just fine until she flat out accused me of sleeping around!" Well, that wasn't entirely true, but what her mother didn't know wouldn't hurt her. "And you can't tell me it would have been better to not clear that issue up right then. I didn't even raise my voice. Hell, I didn't even insult her!"

"You reacted to it. That is all anyone saw."

"I don't care what they saw!" Sandy shouted. There, it was out in the open now.

"That much I already put together," Beatrice fired back. "Do you care about anything other than that godforsaken rodeo?"

"I care about lots of things."

Sandy had iced over, and Beatrice immediately regretted the last words that had come out of her mouth. How could she have let things get this out of control? Heaven help her, she was just like her mother. She sighed heavily. When Sandy viciously shrugged Beatrice's hand off her shoulder, Beatrice quietly tried another tactic to make her daughter understand.

"Don't get me wrong, Sandy. Ashley – and her rotten family – will get theirs; I'll make sure of it. But the art is in the subtlety. There are better ways to get back your own. I've been on the verge of decking Renee more times than I care to admit –"

Sandy's bark of laughter cut Beatrice short. The idea of her mother decking anyone was positively ludicrous; she might break a nail.

Her mother gave her a wry grin. "You don't think so? You forget my roots, love. I took me a long, long time to figure this place out. With these women, it's all about where you go and who you know, and darling, I know everyone. By the time ball season is over, the Montegomerys won't know what hit them."

"It seems so ineffective."

"I know it does, but trust me when I say that here, a social slap in the face does more than anything else. Girls call each other out and cause scenes. Well-bred women don't get mad; they get even, darling, and you would do well to remember that." Sandy remained quiet. "Eloise did mention something interesting on the phone, though."

"Oh?" Great. Now what've I done?

"Yes. She said, and I quote, 'That hateful thing looked like she was going to pee her pretty little pants when Cassandra stood up.'"

Sandy laughed. Ashley's expression certainly had dropped the moment she realized that Sandy wasn't going to tolerate any of her nonsense.

"I wish I could have seen it. Go on and get ready for your Masque now, I'm sure Elaina's fit to be tied at the thought of waiting any longer for details on our little talk."

Sandy smiled despite herself. "Yes, Momma."

"And Sandy," Beatrice called after her as she was just passing through the door, "if you hair isn't completely back to normal by tomorrow morning, you're grounded."

THE CHIMING OF THE DOORBELL KILLED THE GIGGLES that had both Sandy and Elaina nearly doubled over. In fact, it also set in a minor panic, as neither girl had yet attempted to climb into the complicated looking, corseted dresses they'd had made for The Masque.

"Suck it in, Elaina!" Sandy ordered as she fought to pull her companion's laces tight.

"This is as in as it gets!" Elaina wheezed back, holding onto the post of Sandy's bed for dear life. Thankfully, it was enough, because Sandy tied a bow, determined the dress tight enough that it wouldn't suddenly fall to the floor mid-dance, and Elaina could breathe again. Sort of.

They were halfway across the catwalk that lead to the front staircase when Elaina abruptly stopped in front of Sandy. "You took care of it?" she asked. At Sandy's confused expression, she huffily elaborated. "You told me not to worry, that you would think of something. Tell me you thought of something, and I haven't gotten all gussied up just to realize that you procrastinated and I don't have a date to The Masque after all."

"Oh, right. About that."

"Sandy –"

Sandy grinned wickedly at her friend. "I took care of it. I told you not to worry," Sandy said airily, brushing by Elaina and down the stairs.

Elaina contemplated giving Sandy a push for making her heart leap up into her throat as she followed her down the stairs.

As it was, Elaina almost gasped when she entered the sitting room behind Sandy. There, standing with the adults across the room, was quite possibly the most gorgeous man she'd ever seen in her life. He was tall and lean, and as pale as she was dark. His white-blond hair glinted in the light as a piece fell into his eyes. He looked aristocratically bored, as a young man should at what was probably idle prattle, though his eyes belied his interest in the conversation. The Confederate uniform was impeccably tailored, complete with a yellow sash tied about his middle and a commander's sword hanging from his belt. The grey of it reflected the color of his eyes – if it wasn't an exact match – and Elaina would have sworn to any number of deities that she'd never been so affected by a man in her life, and never would be again.

Sandy peeked back over her shoulder at Elaina and valiantly attempted to stifle a grin before clearing her throat gently. Normally, she would have marched straight in and introduced herself, but occasions such as this called for gentility and manners, or at least they did according to her mother. Therefore, they would wait at the entrance of the room until someone introduced them. Sandy tried not to roll her eyes at her mother's attention to protocol; perhaps the era of the Old Guard hadn't ended after all.

"Girls, you look lovely. Please come and join us."

Hank Caldar turned to receive the room's newest occupants and very nearly wolf-whistled. There before him were two of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen, anywhere. He flipped the hair out of his eyes and met them halfway. As he got closer, he saw that while both girls were pretty, one was absolutely stunning. Her hair was black and pinned up, exposing a slender neck and enhancing her cheekbones and enormous brown eyes that tilted up the tiniest bit in the corners. The browns and golds in her dress flattered the almond tone of her tan skin, and he decided that his father was absolutely right. This girl was indeed the one for him.

Sandy watched amusedly as Hank Caldar took Elaina's hand in his and raised it to his lips. "Hank Caldar," he said, raising his eyes to hers. Elaina looked ready to swoon.

"Elaina Katsopolis," she replied, before turning her eyes down from his and blushing faintly.

Sandy's eyes narrowed as Hank drew back just a hair in surprise before recovering. "So pleased to meet you, Elaina."

He turned to Sandy. Her dress was white and green patterned muslin, cut low in the front and off her shoulders, all trimmed in lace. The dark hair – which he could now tell was not her natural color – made her skin appear pale, but it still glowed healthily in the soft light of the living room. "Miss O'Hara, I presume?" he asked, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.

His bow to her was deeper and he lingered longer, but he didn't stare into her eyes like he had Elaina's. There was something a bit off, but before she could place her finger on it Matt arrived.

"Missus Butler, actually," said a cool voice behind her.

Matt was not impressed with Hank Caldar. Throwing a glance at the adults to make certain they were all sufficiently distracted, he wrapped his arms possessively around Sandy from behind and dipped his head to kiss her – not on the cheek, as would have been appropriate, but instead at the junction of her exposed neck and shoulder. He never broke eye contact with Caldar and was satisfied that the unspoken message of "Mine." could not have been more clear.

"Ah, and that would make you the illustrious Rhett, I presume."

Boys. "Yes, and you're Ashley Wilkes. Now that we all know each others' aliases…"

Elaina cleared her throat.

"Oh, and of course, Elaina is Melly. Anyhow, Matt, this is Hank. Hank, Matt." She watched as they tersely shook hands and nodded. Her eyes fell to Elaina, and she tipped her head slightly in the direction of the foyer. "Now then, can we all play nice, or do Elaina and I need to send you to the adults? Good, then we'll be back shortly."

When they were in the foyer, Elaina gave her a bewildered look. "I…What…"

"I told you I'd take care of it. Good enough?" Elaina only continued to look dumbfounded. "He's your date to The Masque. Not only is he very, very handsome-"

"Try drop dead gorgeous."

"Yes, well, there is that, but he's also older, better mannered, and wealthier than Nate. And he's going on your arm. How's that for revenge?"

Truth of the matter was, Sandy owed Elaina big time. The whole reason she'd insisted on going as Scarlett O'Hara was because she'd originally thought she'd have to be the one escorting Hank. Scarlett may have fancied Ashley, but Rhett was her match. She'd thought the symbolism would be clear enough to send the right message.

"It'll do."

It'll do? It'll do? Nate's going to eat his tongue when you show up, and all you have to say is it'll do?

Elaina grinned wickedly, and her dark eyes danced with mirth. "Ashley is going to positively die when she sees him."

"That's what I thought. Come on, we'd better get back before they kill each other."

Landon had joined the crowd by the time his daughter and Elaina returned. "Ah, there you are, Punkin." He ignored her blush at the nickname and greeted her with a kiss. "You look lovely. You too, Elaina. Stunning, both of you. Now then, why don't you run take a peak out the back door, I've a surprise for you."

"Dad, you shouldn't have. What is it?"

"Go and see."

The group followed behind Sandy, and the adults after them, as she crossed through the kitchen and out the back door. "Oh! Dad! This is so…I'm speechless!"

Landon tried very hard to look nonchalant, but his pleasure at pleasing his daughter clearly showed through. "Yes, well, I just thought you should stay in character is all." He inspected his fingernails as he spoke.

Parked next to the steps of the back porch was a gleaming, topless buggy, complete with driver and a gorgeous team of horses. Hitched to the back of the coach stood a big black horse and an equally impressive chestnut with a flaxen mane and tail.

THE BOYS RODE ALONGSIDE THE BUGGY for the majority of the ride to the JayCee Barn, occasionally darting off to race across an open pasture before looping back at an easy lope, and as pleased as Sandy was about the carriage her father had found, what she really wanted to do was throw her leg over the back of one of those horses and be off! It was much to glorious an evening to be trotting along at such a sedate pace. However, if barging into a room was unacceptable in front of company, she didn't know if there was a word strong enough to describe what galloping off – riding astride in a dress, no less – would be. Somehow, she thought even apocalyptic fell short of describing her mother's hypothetical reaction.

"There's the barn," Matt said once they'd cleared the woods.

Even from a distance, the JayCee Barn looked imposing. Every blade of grass on the large lawn surrounding it was immaculate in appearance. It was common knowledge that the bold red bricks were oven baked in wooden molds and had cost more than the land upon which the theater was built. Six smooth, stark white columns any Roman emperor would have proudly boasted over framed the oak double doors, and of course, in order to enter the grand theater in befitting honor, one had to climb stairs worthy of Rocky-esque recognition.

Sandy, for one, would have liked to see Rocky take on these stairs in heels, an evening gown, and a corset and look graceful wile doing it. She highly doubted he would pass the test.

"And they call it the JayCee Barn because?" Hank asked once he realized that the building Matt was talking about was not, in fact, the actual barn he'd been looking at.

"Because all JayCees are uncultured rednecks and building a theater on the rodeo grounds is sacrilegious," Elaina quipped as the buggy turned onto the winding drive that led to the stairs.

Sandy groaned before twisting to face the front of the carriage. "I don't suppose there's any way at all you could drop us off round back?" she asked the driver.

"No ma'am. My instructions were to deliver you to the front so you could be announced."

"Please?" The driver chuckled; Sandy dug into her clutch. "How about for a tip, a nice one?"

"I'm sorry, Miss. Your father said not to let you talk me out of it, and I'd get a plenty big tip from him."

Sandy crossed her arms and scowled, while Matt and Elaina howled with laughter. "Daddy is entirely too sneaky for his own good."

Sandy noted that the stairs looked even more daunting up close as the buggy pulled to a stop and Matt offered her his hand. By the time they reached the top, the quartet took a moment to compose themselves – mainly so the girls could catch their breath and curse the corsets in the bodice of their dresses and the heels on their feet. The doormen tried to remain impassive, but even they couldn't resist cracking smiles at some of the more creative strings of insults aimed at the offending articles of clothing.

"Scarlett O'Hara can have the Old South."

Sandy smoothed one last wrinkle out of her hoped skirt, and Matt smiled and tucked her hand neatly into the crook of his arm before nodding to the doormen. The doors were swept open, and they regally entered the building as the doors closed again behind them. Hank and Elaina would have their own entry.

The foyer was crowded, costumed people lined both sides of the plush carpet that extended down the Grand Staircase all the way to the entrance of the ballroom. "Miss Cassandra Collier and her escort, Mister Matthew James Bain the Fourth."

"I'm going to fall down the stairs," Sandy muttered out of the corner of her mouth, trying not to upset the smile plastered across her face.

Matt laughed and shook a dark piece of hair out of his eyes. "I won't let you," he replied, steadying her as she almost stumbled on the hem of her dress.

They reached the bottom of the stairs without further complication, and it was there that Sandy noticed Ashley and Nate, her ever-so-lucky escort. Repressing an enormous sigh, Sandy took her place next to the hateful creature. Because it clearly wasn't enough that she'd had to climb a gazillion stairs in an outdated – though very pretty, if she did say so herself – dress with corset, heels, and an up-do, all to celebrate the sponsorship of her rodeo team by someone that she was sure was up to something. And to please her mother, of course. Being civil to Ashley in addition far and away surpassed her daughterly duties.

The brunette extended a jewel encrusted hand with a cruel smile on her face. She never thought for a minute that Sandy would be so bold as to publicly snub her after the fiasco in the beauty shop that afternoon. Sandy merely glanced at the hand and looked away.

Ashley was effectively snubbed.

Take that, you cow. A smug smile replaced the forced one on Sandy's face. The double doors opened again, and she quickly scanned the room for the familiar, pinched face of Ashley's grandmother; there was no way on earth she would miss this.

"Miss Elaina Katsopolis and her escort, Mister Henry Caldar Junior," the liquid voice called just as Sandy found the elderly lady in the crowd. However, before she had time to analyze the look that flitted across the woman's face, Ashley drew a furious breath beside her. Sandy felt foolish, and here she thought that dear Ashley wouldn't recognize the Caldar name. How very silly of her. That made the tiny little victory all the sweeter.

"Oh my." Elaina teetered a bit at the top of the stairs. There was a sea of faces looking up at her – and her devastatingly handsome date – and suddenly, she felt very shy. How ridiculous! She'd never been shy a day in her life. She managed to pick out Matt and Sandy, or rather, Rhett and his Scarlett, as they started their descent. Sandy caught her eye and gave her head a little jerk to the side. Elaina almost laughed out loud when she saw Ashley's face. She could have cried tears of joy when she saw Nate's. Oh, Sandy – or rather, Miss Beatrice – was right. Revenge was sweet, and subtle revenge that much more so.

"Everything alright?"

Elaina smiled as she met Hank's eye. "Peachy keen."

"Peachy keen." Hank chuckled. "I like that."

Elaina rewarded him with a nod and another dazzling grin as she studied the crowd awaiting their descent. There was Samantha and Blake, dresses as Ariel the little mermaid and Prince Eric. Oh, and Mrs. Melrose – the Queen of Hearts – flirting outlandishly with her husband the King. The Melrose's always had a family theme, and Elaina searched for Melinda. Oh. Tragic that. Melinda was Alice and Levi, her husband, the Mad Hatter. It was a good thing Marty hadn't been able to come – he'd have to have been Dinah the cat or the White Rabbit.

As they neared the landing, she returned her attention to Ashley and Nate. Who could they possibly be? He was dressed in a vivid green zoot suit, and she a French maid. How did that fit together at all? The people shifted around the ill-begotten pair, and suddenly it clicked. A purple leisure jacket and smoking pipe and spectacles emerged first, then one of Ashley's tagalongs in an ill-fitting peacock blue dress, and another in a vivid red with a black boa.

"A clue!" Elaina accidentally snickered aloud at her cleverness.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. I'm just being silly."

The instant the sole of her shoe hit the landing, the grand ballroom doors were flung open, and the crowd poured into it. Elaina fidgeted with her silk wrap, wondering what she should do with it. It was more a pain than anything else.

"Let me take that for you," Hank offered with a smile, though he had no idea where on earth the coats were kept. Elaina allowed him to take it, smiling as he draped it carefully over his arm.

"Thank you." When she was able to tear her eyes away from him, silently chastising herself for being entirely too enthralled, a flash of green caught her eye. Matt was talking to Nate, who was gesturing wildly with his arms. Elaina could see the tension in Sandy's leg from straining not to tap her foot in annoyance.

No one noticed Ashley stalking her prey until she was right on top of them. When Hank did notice her out of the corner of his eye, just about the time she started to sidle up next to them, he was taken aback by the gleam in her eye. It was one look that he was far more familiar with than he would have liked, much to similar to the one that had landed him here for his comfort. There was no way this girl was up to anything remotely, possibly, or even accidentally good. It occurred to him that she wouldn't have anything against him, well, yet, so her ill intentions would be aimed at Elaina. A surge of protectiveness flooded his chest, though he didn't want to take the time to examine the reason behind it. And by the time she was within speaking distance, he'd had time to make a plan, panic, revise, and review the plan's overall effectiveness. Of course, he was Henry Caldar's son, so in reality, that was where Ashley made her first mistake.

Elaina saw Ashley just as the other girl opened her mouth to speak. A feeling of dread washed over her, but before she could do anything, Hank was shoving her shawl into the girl's hands.

"Take this to the coat room," he ordered, pressing his palm into the small of Elaina's back. As they stepped away, he continued just loudly enough for the shocked Montegomery heiress to hear, "You know, I like that they have the help wear uniforms, but really, they should take care not to let them get too liberal with the sizing. It makes some of them appear, and you must excuse my crassness, trashy."

Elaina could have kissed him.

"About time," Sandy greeted Hank and Elaina.

Nate stopped speaking mid-sentence as he eyed Elaina's date open mouthed. She wasn't meant to show him up. She was meant to be forced to attend The Masque alone as penance for insulting him then closing the door in his face before he could return the slight.

"Nate, this is Hank. He helps his father run Caldar Stock, and he'll be attending our practices from now on. Hank, Nate rides bares and bulldogs for us."

"Pleased to meet you." Hank extended his hand, though he didn't appreciate the way this Nate was eying his date. "I'm assuming you know my date, Elaina. Doesn't she look stunning?"

Nate only glared. Matt cracked a smile – he found Hank to be quite likable when he wasn't flirting with Sandy. Sandy had to restrain herself from bouncing on the balls of her feet and clapping her hands in glee.

It was only then that Nathan seemed to realize his own date had gone missing. "Has anyone seen Ashley?"

"Who?"

"Ashley, my date. She was dressed as Ms. White, you know, the maid from Clue."

"Oh. Oh no."

"Oh no, what?" Nate snapped.

"I'm afraid her costume gave the impression that she was help for the evening. I sent her off with Elaina's shawl. You know, I should have known nobody would have poor enough taste to allow their help to dress so… vulgar. Now I see that she must have wanted to appear that way." He paused deliberately. "Interesting how these kinds of events always seem to show how people truly are, isn't it?"

Elaina snorted before she could force herself to maintain an acceptable level of decorum. Tonight was just not Nate's night, and quite frankly, Elaina couldn't have been happier. She made a mental note to give Sandy a big, smacking kiss the next time they were alone and allowed Hank to sweep her into the ballroom – leaving Nate gaping after them.

Sandy helpfully closed it for him before allowing Matt to spin her into his side and lead her through the doorway.

NATE MANAGED TO SHAKE ASHLEY OFF long enough to grab a glass of punch with Matt by the refreshment stand. He would have preferred Sandy to be elsewhere, but then, beggars couldn't be choosers. "He's a piece of work," Nate bit out as he studied Hank conferring quietly with his father. "What right has he got, comin' in here and actin' like that?"

Nate didn't elaborate on the subject, but Sandy and Matt both knew he was referring to Hank's cavalier treatment of Ashley and possessiveness of Elaina. Sandy grinned. "What's it matter to you? Jealous?"

"No." He replied too quickly and tried to cover it by continuing. "Why should I be when I've got Ashley on my arm?"

Matt laughed out loud. "If you can't figure that one out on your own, I'm not sure you deserve to know." It was cruel, Matt knew, but then sometimes the best medicine was a dose of one's own, and that was what Nate had just been served.

They left Nate watching Elaina moodily from his corner, unaware that across the room, Hank was doing the same thing.

"How are things coming, Hank?"

"Fine, Dad," Hank replied, never taking his eyes from Elaina.

Had she been closer to Sandy, his father may have never made the connection. "You do realize which girl it is that we want, don't you?"

"Yes sir." Hank sighed.

"Then why are you mooning about after the other one?" Henry hissed.

"Part of my plan. It's under control, leave it."

"If you're sure then."

"I'm sure."

a/n: Wow. Lots of updates today. Only two of the chapters are new, a few of the others were merely chopped up a bit because after sitting down for a reread, they were just too long. The last two chapters are the newest to the storyline, but I did add a few things back into the other chapters too. (The end of what was chapter one (and is now chapter 2: Rain) has been changed, as well as a few minor changes to other chapters because as I was writing these last two, it occurred to me that I knew how into Nate Elaina was, but it might not come across as well to everyone else.)

Much love,
Celeste

ps. i love, love, love reviews. lemme know whatcha think.