Words Heard In Silence / Xena Uber

by T. Novan

  "You are nervous about this," she stated as she poured Charlie a glass of wine.

  Charlie thought about it for a moment and then agreed. "Yes. I suspect there are three women in the world who actually know me pretty well. You. Elizabeth. And Lizzie. You and Elizabeth are dangerous enough without adding Lizzie. Between you, I suspect you will identify every single flaw and weakness I have. Fortunately, I also have enough faith in your love for me to know I will be the more object of teasing than of hurtfulness."

  "I am not interested in finding your flaws, Charlie. I just want to know your friends. I want to know the people who you trust enough to share your secret with."

  Charlie knew when it was time to surrender and tuck his insecurities back in the little black pit where they belonged. "Yes, dear." Hmmmm. There was that phrase again.

  --*--

  Wednesday, February 1, 1865

  Elizabeth Armstrong had dressed in a modest gray walking dress and a veiled hat. Her hair was up when she walked into the Willard that day. This was not the flamboyant hostess and confidante of the Washington powerful, but instead a quiet, discreet woman on her way to lunch privately with friends.

  She knocked at the door to Charlie and Rebecca’s suite, where she was immediately greeted by both of her hosts. As Charlie took her wraps and hat, Rebecca looked her ex-competitor over carefully.

  "Hello, Mrs. Armstrong, it is so nice finally to meet you."

  "Good afternoon, Mrs. Redmond. I am very grateful that you have invited me."

  Charlie looked at the two of them a little stunned. He had never seen Lizzie dressed so conservatively. Nor had he ever seen her so…… reserved.

  "Please, come in and sit. I have been looking forward to meeting you. Charlie has told me so much about you."

  "Thank you, ma’am. He told me a little of you when he was here last month, as well. You seem to have given him something very special."

  Rebecca led her guest to the davenport. "Well I hope so, but I have not given Charlie anything he has not given me."

  Lizzie spent a moment settling herself on the davenport. She looked at the room, at the warm fire in the hearth, in fact everywhere except at Charlie or Rebecca. In a small voice, she said, "I envy you."

  Rebecca looked to Charlie, feeling very lost and encouraging him to say something to the woman.

  Charlie cleared his throat, groping for something neutral to say. "Um. Thank you so much for your wedding gift." He realized what he had just thanked her for and turned a truly startling shade of red.

  Rebecca realized this was not going to get any better as long as Charlie was there to insert his boot into his mouth. "Darling," she smiled and tried to force the blush from her own face. "There is a matter to be taken up with your lawyer; now might be a good time to do so."

  Charlie looked at her gratefully. Escaping was the best idea he had heard in a while. "Why, yes, dear, I do need to drop in on him. Let me just get the papers and my coat, and I will leave you two ladies to have a nice chat. Do not worry about lunch for me; I will grab something with my attorney." With that, Charlie bustled about the room for a moment, put some papers in his coat pocket, threw his greatcoat over his arm and bolted from the room.

  Rebecca watched him go and smiled. Turning back to Lizzie, she sighed. "He is very good at the tactical retreat."

  Lizzie laughed. "You know, I do not think I have ever seen the man so flustered."

  "He tends to get that way when he feels overwhelmed by the fairer sex and I believe that you and I in the same room was more than he could handle."

  "So we have overwhelmed him. Hmmm. The great ‘‘Lucky Charlie’ abashed by his own gender. This does have a certain…… irony." Lizzie fussed for a moment, and then changed the subject. "I hope you did not find my wedding present to be too…… presumptuous."

  "No, actually, I found it very intriguing. Thank you. So tell me Mrs. Armstrong, why do you seem so nervous? I promise you I mean you no harm." Rebecca teased as she poured two cups of tea.

  Lizzie drew in a deep breath. "Mrs. Redmond, a woman such as I am is not proper company for a lady like you. If the people you meet socially knew you had me as a guest in your rooms, they would shun you in a heartbeat."

  Now Rebecca truly laughed. Eventually, she regained control of herself and offer Lizzie a pat on the arm. "My dear Mrs. Armstrong, the last thing in this world I am concerned with is what other people think. You are a friend of Charlie’s and I wanted to meet you in hopes that we also could become friends."

  Lizzie blushed at Rebecca’s outburst. Charlie’s new wife clearly regarded social norms as annoyances, which was a refreshing change of attitude in Lizzie’s experience. "Ma’am, you do not understand. If I happen to meet one of the ‘‘proper’ ladies of this town at the haberdashery or the tearoom, they will cut me dead. I would not like that to happen to you."

  "Mrs. Armstrong, I honestly do not care what people think. You are an important person in Charlie's life, a person who cares for him and a person he cares for. Your friendship is far more important than what people I do not know may think, or even, for that matter, what people I do know may think, because to be perfectly honest I do not like most of them anyhow."

  Lizzie looked at Rebecca with an expression of total astonishment. Women of her acquaintance were simply not so outspoken. Slowly, astonishment turned to amusement. "My, my, Charlie has indeed found his match in you, ma’am," she grinned.

  "I hope so. So, now, let us put all this talk of propriety away and enjoy ourselves."

  Lizzie took a sip of tea and looked over at the table with their luncheon set out waiting for them. "I will if you promise not to let that lovely luncheon get cold."

  "Very well. Shall we?" Rebecca moved to the table, gesturing for Lizzie to join her. Once the woman was seated, Rebecca continued. "Tell me, when did you meet Charlie?"

  "Charlie and I met back when he was a newly made a captain and was assigned to work here in the Capitol for the first time. I was just a young thing, working for one of the more discreet madams in town. In fact, he helped me go into business on my own, a kindness for which I am very grateful. Over the years, we have renewed our acquaintance whenever he was in town. He has always been more of a friend than a client."

  "I could tell that. He speaks of you as if you are one of his dearest and most trusted friends. You must know it is very hard for Charlie to allow anyone to get to close to him. Even Colonel Polk, who has been Charlie's friend for many years, does not know. As far as I know, there are only five of us who know Charlie’s secret."

  "So how did you figure his secret out? More significantly, how did you feel about it when you did realize what he is?"

  "I noticed the first time I met Charlie. He had been wounded in the shoulder. When I cleaned the wound, I noticed the bindings under his shirt. To be honest, I was terribly confused and amazed. I was amazed he had been able to hide so well for so long. When I realized I was developing feelings for Charlie, I fought them for the longest time." She smiled at Lizzie. "Then I realized it was just useless to fight something so powerful."

  "It must have been very confusing for you. I doubt you had ever met anyone like Charlie before."

  "Not that I was aware of, that is for certain. But I fell in love with Charlie, not Charlie's body. She is an amazing woman and quite a gallant gentleman."

  A wistful look came over Lizzie’s features, as she looked away from Rebecca. "Yes, she is amazing and he is infinitely gallant."

  "You love Charlie."

  Lizzie took a deep breath. "Of course I do. He is one of my dearest friends."

  Rebecca smiled. "That is not what I meant. You would have gone away with Charlie and lived as his wife."

  A long silence ensued, while Lizzie simply sat there, with her eyes closed, twisting her napkin into an unrecognizable wad. Finally, she responded. "No, I would not have, for Charlie never asked me and, to be honest, never loved me that way. I was his friend, his mentor, and the place he went when the
pain of being alone became too great. I was never the dream he reached for, as you are."

  "Mrs. Armstrong, I think I know Charlie well enough to say that had you made your feelings known, it might have very well been you. I can say with a great deal of sincerity that Charlie loves you. Very much."

  "He loves me as a friend. But he is not, nor has he ever been, in love with me. There is a huge difference between what he feels for you and what he feels for me. So I envy you. I wish it had been me that he saw his future in, but it was not. Perhaps it is because of the decisions I have made in my life; perhaps it was just not meant to be. But, my dear lady, I do love him enough to wish you and him well."

  "Mrs. Armstrong, that means so very much to me; thank you. And I will say now, to you and to Charlie, that if he finds himself in a place where he needs someone by his side again, he would be well served to be with you."

  Lizzie stood and walked to the window, looking down on the bustling street. "Mrs. Redmond, you are a young woman, younger than I. I do not expect he will be alone again. For that, I am very glad."

  "Still, I am resolute in that belief, Mrs. Armstrong, and, please, if we are ever to become friends, you must call me Rebecca."

  "My friends call me Lizzie, Rebecca."

  "Good." She smiled and quietly gestured that Lizzie should sit down again. "Now, I have a few questions and you may feel free not to answer and be horribly mortified that I would even inquire about such things."

  Lizzie shook off her own melancholy and sat back down. Lifting her fork, she paused before tasting more of the delicate omelet that was part of lunch. "I am beginning to suspect that there is nothing you will not explore if it suits you, my dear."

  "This is true. I have learned that it does not pay to pretend that certain subjects are off limits or too delicate to talk about. So bluntly, my question is about sex."

  Lizzie snorted. She had rather suspected, given the introduction that her professional skills were about to be called upon. "Yes, my dear? You choose to question a professional about her area of expertise. That seems a wise course of action." Lizzie could not help but grin at her own saucy response.

  "Well, I do not seem to have any problems satisfying Charlie; she is very responsive to my touch. I was just wondering if Charlie has any particular needs that I would be better off knowing about. Since you have always been the one to serve those needs, I just thought you would be the one to ask."

  Lizzie started laughing. "So, this conversation is so that one lover can hand him off to the other?" The image was priceless. Lizzie could not stop laughing.

  "I do believe that sums up the gist of this conversation, yes." Rebecca could not help but smile. "Actually," she began to blush. "Did you ever notice the little 'squeak' Charlie makes when..."

  "Yes. A most ungentlemanly little squeak. And entirely gratifying, I would say."

  "So it would seem. The first time it happened, I thought I had done something very wrong."

  "Oh, no, that is a symptom of something very right. I have also noticed that Charlie sometimes forgets to breathe."

  "Oh yes, quite often. Then there is the resounding gasp." She smiled from behind her teacup. "It does seem that we have had the same experiences with Charlie. Apparently I am doing it right."

  "It would seem. I have noticed that Charlie seems to prefer external stimulation to penetration."

  "To be honest, I have never tried. Charlie guides me and I do what she asks." Rebecca considered the comment. "Interesting that I had not thought of that, or even noticed."

  "Perhaps you might want to…… experiment a bit to discover what our oh-so-reserved gentleman prefers."

  "I suppose I should." She bit her lip, trying to hide the smile caused by the simple imagery. "I wonder how it will go over."

  Lizzie looked into Rebecca’s blushing face. "Of course, dear, Charlie may allow you to do things he would not accept from me."

  "Hmm, there is some truth to that I suppose, but Charlie has known you for so much longer."

  "It does not matter dear. Your relationship with him is far different from what mine ever was. He lets you into his soul as well as his heart. I suspect that he is less restrained with you than he was with me."

  The blonde blushed again and nodded. "Indeed. That is very true. Thank you, Lizzie, for everything. So tell me, will you come to Culpeper and pay us a visit when Charlie is home?"

  "My dear, if there is a social problem with you and I being together here in Washington, what kind of scandal would you create in Culpeper if I were to visit? I suspect my name is rather well known in certain circles."

  "Well, I am not sure who of the remaining citizens in Culpeper might know of you, but I simply do not care. Please know that our home is open to you anytime you choose to visit."

  Lizzie looked a little wistful. "Perhaps sometime in the future. For now, I think the two of you need time to settle into your relationship. And I need some time to accept that what I will see is something I cannot have."

  "Lizzie, after my first husband died, I was sure the war would be the end of me. I had accepted the fact I would either be alone for the rest of my life or possibly dead. Not many men are interested in marrying a woman who has been married once and by all accounts of local gossip, was a horrible wife. Then Charlie came into my life, giving me hope again. You should not give up. Your time will come."

  "I hope so. Sometimes I think I should take my earnings and go somewhere far from here, live a life as a quiet widow who does charitable works through the local church and supports a community lending library."

  Just then, Charlie stuck his head through the door. His hair was tousled by the wind, his cheeks and nose reddened with the cold. "Is it safe to come in yet?"

  Rebecca and Lizzie looked at each other and burst out laughing. Charlie, wise man that he was, retreated back downstairs to have a hot coffee and brandy in the Willard’s smoking lounge.

  --*--

  Em had vacillated between being demanding and cranky, and being sullen and cranky since Charlie and Rebecca’s departure. Mostly, she had been cranky. This afternoon, Elizabeth was sitting with her in the rear parlor playing with her blocks, trying to quiet her before Tess came to put her down for her nap.

  The little girl threw one of her blocks causing it to bounce and just miss the fireplace.

  "Em, did you see where your block almost went?"

  "Em mad!" The little girl turned her back on the doctor and then proceeded to fall to the floor in a crying fit.

  Elizabeth regarded the wailing child with a rather jaundiced look. "So, do you think if you do that enough, I will magically get them back here before Monday night?"

  Em, uncaring about the doctor's attempt at humor, just kept crying. "Why Papa leave!"

  "Because Papa and Mamma Becca needed to go to Washington for a week." Elizabeth refused to talk down to the child. She knew that Em was smart, and that she knew exactly what she was saying.

  "Why?"

  "Because they did."

  Em sat up and sniffed. "Papa come home?"

  "Papa will be home on Monday night."

  Em wiped her eyes, then blew a bubble from her rather runny nose. "Miss Papa."

  Elizabeth pulled an already soggy handkerchief from her pocket. "Here. Blow. Papa will be home on Monday night."

  Richard wandered into the room just in time to see Elizabeth wiping Em's face. "Did I miss the two o'clock tantrum?"

  "Yes, lucky for you. You can have the supper one." Elizabeth looked up at him. "And once more, we can see just how far around her finger she has managed to wrap Unca Wichad."

  "Ooo, are we in a mood today, my dear? Does playing the surrogate mother not appeal to you?"

  "Actually, the mothering part suits me nicely, thank you. It is the fact that neither of us can fill General Redmond’s boots that I find stressful."

  "Yes she is quite attached to him. Can you imagine what Rebecca will have to deal with when we leave for the spring campaign?" Richard sat d
own on the floor and opened his arms and Em crawled right into them.

  "Unca Wichad. Em miss Papa! Make Papa come home."

  "Emily, your Aunt Elizabeth and I do not have the power to make Papa come home. He and Mama Becca will be back in five days. Now would you like to help Uncle Richard keep track of the days until they come home?"

  "Em help?"

  "Absolutely." Richard rooted around in his pocket until he pulled out five pennies. "There is a penny here for everyday that Papa will be gone. Now if you are good and do not cry for Papa anymore, every night before bed, Uncle Richard will give you a penny."

  "Pennies pretty."

  Elizabeth chuckled while she watched Richard, basically bribing the child.

  "Yes they are very pretty and they can be all yours if you are good until Papa comes home."

  Elizabeth intervened. "Emily, do you know how many pennies Uncle Richard has there?"

  She looked at his hand and then to Elizabeth before shaking her head.

  "How many fingers do you have on your hand, little one?"

  She looked to her hand. Her brows came together and she guessed. "Fouw."

  "Shall we count them?"

  "Yes, pwease."

  Elizabeth held up her index finger. "One"

  "One." She grinned and held up another. "Twu."

  "That is right." Elizabeth’s next finger went up and she waited to see if the little girl could respond.

  "Twee."

  "Very good, Em. I will have to tell your Papa and Mama Becca what a smart little girl you are." The next finger went up.

  "Fouw." She looked to Richard for his approval, which he gave with a nod.

  Elizabeth held up her thumb. "How many is this, Em?"

  "One."

  "And how many total fingers do I have?"

  Em considered the question and then shrugged.

  Elizabeth counted off her fingers. "One, two, three, four, five."

  "Fwive?" She looked to the coins in Richard’s hand. "Fwive?"

  "Very good, Em. Mama Becca and Papa will be back in five days."

  "Em have penny?" she gave her best smile to her Uncle Richard.

  "Em can have her penny at bedtime, if she is a good girl."