by C W Lamb
Her escort was a younger man than Victoria, by Robert’s estimation, although he was likely still twice Robert’s age. His attire was that of a Southern gentleman, and he guessed it was more of an 1860’s tux.
“Victoria, I am so glad you could come,” Robert said, greeting her with his free hand.
“Robert, you have done an amazing job here and the party is fabulous. Don’t you think so, Charlotte?” she commented as she appraised the younger woman.
Robert could feel her grip tighten on his arm as she reacted to the name. He gently patted her hand until she relaxed and then turned to the gentleman, quickly moving the conversation along.
“And you are, sir?” he asked.
“Oh dear, where are my manners? This is George, an old friend of the family. He heard about your work here and simply begged me to bring him along,” Victoria explained.
“A pleasure, sir, you have done remarkable work here,” George said as he shook Robert’s hand.
“Aunt Victoria, you simply must go down and see the riverboat, it’s delightful,” Charlie suddenly added out of the blue.
“Why thank you, dear, I believe I will. Shall we, George?”
As they watched the elderly couple head toward the river, Robert turned to Charlie with a broad smile. “You handled that wonderfully!” he exclaimed in delight.
“Do you think I can sneak up on her in this dress and push her into the river?” Charlie replied with that devious smile he had seen before.
----*----
Charlie had never experienced an evening as magical as this one had been. The evening air not to warm, with soft lighting all around providing a mystical glow and gentle laughter throughout. Attached to Robert’s side the entire time, she could feel an affection building within her that seemed alien. An entire lifetime of keeping men at bay was dissolving into a moment without fear.
Her physical attraction to him was undeniable, as was the emotional attraction of the security he represented. For the first time in a very long while, she felt safe, her arm wrapped around his, and in the warm realization that she was not diving into a bottle for escape.
Charlie didn’t know where this night was headed, but for now she was content just to be here with Robert.
----*----
It was quite late when Robert and Charlie escorted the last of their guests to the waiting carriage. For some, the trip was a return to their parked cars, while for others too drunk to drive, a waiting taxi was their goal at the end of the road. With that thought, Robert was very conscious of the fact that Charlie had not touched a drop of alcohol the whole night.
Waving at the couple as they rode away, Robert could see the horse trailer parked near the front gate. There, the carriage horses would be loaded and returned to their stables, while the carriage would be collected the following morning.
Turning to go back inside, the pair left the front porch and Robert closed the door behind them. The silence in the house was a welcome break from the constant noise of the last several hours. He could see the hound in the parlor, asleep in one of his favorite corners.
Robert had already released the hired staff for the night, their return for clean up in the morning already scheduled. With a tired look on his face, he glanced at Charlie and smiled.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked as he helped her up the stairs.
“Well, other than I didn’t get to push my Aunt into the river? Yes, I had a fabulous evening, the best I have ever had,” she responded as they topped the stairs.
Turning to her right without another word, she stepped up to the doorframe of Robert’s room and grasped both sides of the doorframe, her hands resting about head height. Looking back at him over one shoulder, she nodded toward the line of buttons running up from the base of her back and ending at the collar at her neck.
“Do you mind? It took two of the serving girls to get me into this thing.”
With the front of the dress cut low, displaying ample cleavage, Robert hadn’t given much thought as to how one secured a dress like this. Starting at the middle of her back, well below the base of her neck, he began unbuttoning her dress, one button at a time. Slowly, taking care so as to not damage the garment, he began to see the exposed skin of her bare back as he approached her waist.
Initially exhausted from the long day, he felt an unexpected jolt of adrenaline as more of her back became exposed to him. Her smooth, tanned back, curved sensuously into the top of a shapely behind. Although he had seen her nearly naked before, there was something different about this time. As he worked his way down, it was all he could do not to reach out and caress her skin.
Undoing the last button at the small of her back, he watched as she suddenly dropped her arms, allowing the dress to fall free from her shoulders and onto the floor, leaving her completely exposed before him. It was instantly apparent that she had chosen to wear nothing under the dress the entire evening, even barefoot. The thought was thrilling to him as he admired her body. Still looking over one shoulder at him, her expression was one of anticipation.
“Perhaps I can show you some gratitude for such a good evening?” she asked as she stepped out of the dress at her feet and continued into Robert’s bedroom while motioning him to follow.
He watched as she slowly stepped into his room, the open curtains providing the only light, as the moon shone high in the night sky. The filtered moonlight seemed to highlight the curves of her body as she turned and then lay on his bed, not bothering to pull the covers back.
Robert stepped into the darkened room, not troubling to turn on a light. The hall lighting added to the moonlight giving him all the illumination he needed to take in the vision of her body before him. She lay on her back, her right arm up over her head while the left reached out to pat the bed beside her.
“I think you are overdressed for this party,” she said while sensuously caressing herself from navel to neck with her left hand.
Urgently removing his uniform jacket and shirt as he crossed to the bed, Robert discovered his cavalry boots were not so easily removed. Bare-chested, with the trousers unbelted and loose at his waist, he turned and sat on the bed, leaning forward to pry the boots from his feet. An arm appeared over his right shoulder, a hand caressing his chest hair, as he felt Charlie press her breasts into his bare back. Almost at the same time, her soft lips at his left ear began to nibble on it and his neck.
“You’re not helping,” he said softly as he stopped what he was doing to enjoy the sensations she was generating inside him.
“Then hurry up,” she said in a hot whisper as she continued to tease him.
Doing his best not to unseat her as she continued to press into him from behind, he finally managed to slip off both boots.
“Hold on,” He said with a quick move that had him lifting his frame slightly from the bed to remove his clothing from the waist down, kicking them free at the last.
The rebound move, as he returned to the bed, had him wrap one arm around her waist, pulling her to one side. The maneuver had him on his back and her almost completely on top of him as she rolled his way. He quickly found her mouth for a kiss, her lips as hungry for him as he was for her.
“Wow, you are stronger than I thought,” Charlie said in surprise as she paused their kiss.
He took her tone to be one of both surprise and excitement.
“Does that scare you?” he asked playfully as she started nibbling on his neck once more.
“Not if you put it to good use,” he heard in a husky whisper in his ear.
Taking that as his cue, he easily rolled, controlling her body in his arms as he did so, until she lay on her back once more, only this time under him. Starting at her neck, he began softly kissing his way down the length of her body, her hands resting on his head as he did so. He could feel the gentle pressure she applied to him as she guided his advance.
Slowly moving from her neck to her breasts, he took particular care in showing equal attention to both before movi
ng between them. He could see by now her breathing had become more ragged and irregular as he passed over her stomach.
“That tickles,” she said in a soft giggle as goosebumps appeared on her skin beneath his lips.
He paused, raising his head ever so slightly to see if he should continue.
“Don’t stop,” she said, her tone pleading as she lifted her hips beneath him, closing the distance to his lips once more.
As his head traveled the length of her body, his hands had moved up, replacing his lips in pleasing parts of her he had passed by earlier. Glancing up the length of her body, he could see as she arched her back, pushing her chest out in pleasure, to assist his hands. Beyond the valley formed by her breasts, he could see her head back, eyes still closed tightly as her parted lips allowed the moans indicating his successes as he worked to please her.
Robert was working to read her body, looking for signs of triumph in his attempts to inflame her passions. By now she had released his head and placed her hands over his as he teased her breasts. Her parted thighs and the gentle rolling of her hips was an open invitation for him, one he was not quite ready to accept.
Reaching the anticipated destination, he diverted left, kissing the inside of her thigh and working the area there, ever so close but never reaching his goal. As she shifted her hips in that direction, an attempt to refocus his efforts, he moved past her intended target to the right, working the opposite spot on her right thigh.
A moan of frustration was his reward as she released his hands on her breasts and place both on his head once more. Yielding to her urgent direction this time, he began lightly touching the focus of both their attentions until she released her grip on him. Glancing up without stopping, he could see her arms were now above her head, a look of total submission as she surrendered herself to his devotions.
Robert felt a sense of satisfaction as Charlie exploded beneath him, her squirming body struggling out of control under his continued stimulation. Convinced she was coming down from her orgasmic high, he ceased his activities and slowly slid back up the length of her body. Arriving to a passionate kiss as she threw both arms around his neck, he was careful not to put all his weight on her as she struggled to catch her breath between kisses.
“Now it’s my turn,” Charlie said as she guided Robert into a change of positions.
----*----
It was well past 10 am before the couple stirred from Robert’s room. It took him a moment to orient himself as he woke. From the noises outside, he could envision the service companies all collecting their property. It was a testament to Alice’s planning that he needn’t be on hand to supervise things.
Sitting up in bed, he tried to figure out who was still working outside by the noises he heard. Stirring under the covers next to him, Charlie glanced at him out of one eye.
“What time is it?” she asked sleepily.
“A little after 10,” he replied after checking a nearby alarm clock.
Sitting up suddenly, she looked at him with a bright smile.
“And I’m not hung over!” she declared, with both arms in the air and naked from the waist up as the bedcovers fell away.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him back down on her and began kissing him passionately.
----*----
Finally up and around by noon, Robert began the process of cleaning up the things that the service companies didn’t feel responsible for. Once outside, he could see the riverboat was gone from its moorings. He suspected the crew had departed at first light, intent on heading south in the calm morning air.
Most of what was required of him was putting the pieces of his house and yard back where they belonged. He placed the chaises and accompanying small tables back by the pool and picked up the few small items left out that night. He worked quickly and it wasn’t long before he came back inside.
There he found Charlie in one of his T-shirts, reading something at the island counter, coffee cup resting on the marble. As he got closer, he realized she had one of Charlotte’s diaries in hand. The distressed look on her face told him she was not finding the journal entertaining.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as the expression on her face was anything but pleasant.
Without a word, she extended her arm, the open page available for him to read. Taking the book, he studied its contents, recognizing the entries.
“Did you leave this here for me to find?” she asked, tears welling in her eyes.
“No. This should be upstairs in my study. You found it here?”
“It was laying right here when I came down, open to that page,” she responded, tears starting to run down her cheeks.
Robert knew exactly what those pages contained, as he had read them many times. They were written just after Jefferson’s death and they talked about Charlotte’s despair over losing him. They spoke of finding a great love, only to have it ripped out from under her, leaving her hollow and depressed. It spoke of how she would give anything to have her love back once more, a chance to live happily ever after.
Looking down at the book in his hand, he read the passages.
“My loneliness is not just the pain felt by a lack of companionship. That pain is wrapped in the blanket of despair over the loss that I feel having known the touch of a man who loves you and knowing it will be forever lost to you, never to happen once more.
My days are filled with thoughts of what once was and what could have been, rather than what is. It’s these demons that torment my days, asking why you wish to continue this meager existence outside of love.”
“These are my words, my thoughts! How could she know?” she declared as she pointed to the writings.
“Charlie, these words were written over 150 years ago by a woman distraught over the death of her husband,” he replied as he took the book from her hands.
“But I know the way she felt. The loneliness and despair. I’ve felt that my whole life. What does it mean?” Charlie asked as she slid off the stool and went to Robert’s open arms.
Holding her to him, her head against his chest, he debated explaining the split soul theory presented him in the shop in St. Augustine. He wanted to tell her of the ghostly events surrounding the house. Eventually, he rejected it after recalling the deaths associated with the tale. He held her close for several minutes before finally replying.
“I don’t know.”
Chapter 20
Foxworth House, 1868
It had been some time since Charlotte had felt in the mood to celebrate. After the death of her husband, her only joy had been the infrequent visits from her sister and father as they made an effort to come see her. The party she was currently hosting was in honor of her father, who was celebrating the return of his last Union confiscated riverboat.
While classified a non-combatant during the war, it had little effect on the Northern practice of confiscating whatever resources or equipment they deemed necessary for the war effort. Her father was not alone in the hardships delivered at the hands of the Union forces. It had only been their fiscal discipline that had allowed the family to survive the war to rebuild once more… that and Charlotte’s sale of her timber.
The party was laid out on the back lawn with lanterns lighting the way from the pier to the back porch for anyone interested in a stroll to the river’s edge. There they would find the guest of honor tied to the pier, awaiting its first run as a Foxworth Steamboat once more.
“Charlotte this is absolutely beautiful,” Christina commented while waving at all the decorations strung about.
“I just wish our father would come and enjoy it,” Charlotte replied.
“Father won’t come down from the bridge,” Christina said with a laugh.
“This was his favorite. It was the first one he bought once we moved here. Mom picked it,” Charlotte finished.
“I didn’t know that,” she replied, more serious now.
“It’s ok, I don’t think he is aware I know. Mom told us the
story several times, but I think you were too young to understand,” Charlotte said, compassion in her tone.
“Cyrus, stop that!” was Christina’s reply as she hurried away while Charlotte was speaking.
The sight before her brought both sadness and joy as she watched her little sister chasing after her son. The boy was rolling in the grass with her dog, a stray adopted by the boarder’s children. While that was her story to others, the hound had endeared itself to her from the very first day it appeared.
During the day the dog would romp and play with the children, always nearby when they wandered through the woods or at the dock as they swam. In the evenings, however, he would be allowed on the furniture, his head in her lap as she read or did her mending in the lamplight. His calm, accepting nature was like a balm to her tortured, lonely soul.
Foxworth House, January 1948
The river was inviting as Rebeca stood at the edge of the pier, considering joining her significantly younger nieces as they were splashing about. Even with the sun low in the west, she estimated that would still be ample enough light to make the effort worth her while.
“Come on Auntie, get in,” little Victoria cried out.
“In my own time,” she replied with a laugh.
Gently slipping into the warm water, she held on to one of the pilings as she enjoyed the sensation. While treading water, she smiled at the antics of the young girls nearby, the two taking turns diving off the pier and into the river. The display the kids were putting on reminded Rebeca of her youth and how she and her brother would do exactly as they were. She watched the pair for quite a while as she soaked up the atmosphere.