by T. Novan
Just then Tess walked in and took Em up for her nap.
"So apart from Em acting like a two year old, how is your day going?"
"Interesting. Constance is slowly failing, so that is a worry, and Em has been atrociously demanding, but other than that, I have had some time to think. And I think I want to talk to you a little, sir, if you are willing?"
"Of course. I am yours to command," he said with a grin as he lifted himself off the floor and onto the settee with her.
"Ah. Is that true, Richard?" Suddenly, the normally acerbic Elizabeth was rather vulnerable.
"It is, my lovely lady. Very true."
"What you said Saturday? Did you mean it?"
"I meant every badly stuttered word." He smiled shyly. "I do believe seeing Charlie and Rebecca together has finally made me realize what it is I have been missing; you."
Elizabeth stared at her feet. They had been friends for a long time. She had come to rely on Richard’s quiet strength, his humor, and his unfailing presence. Was she in love with him? She was not sure. Could she imagine her life without him? No. "So after the war is over, are you asking for permission to court me officially?"
"Well, I think it is about time we made it official. We have been keeping company for sometime now."
Elizabeth, even though still a little confused, recognized that Richard was busy being Richard. Once again, his ability to evade serious emotions was impressive. "Ah, I understand. You are asking me to consider whether I am willing to have you ask me to think about whether I should marry you or not." She could not help it; she was overwhelmed by giggles.
"Ah, no, my dear doctor. I am not being politic, nor am I waffling. I am specifically asking you. I would be delighted if you would accept my proposal of marriage, although I must admit I am a little concerned that the concept causes you to laugh."
Elizabeth caught her breath. The giggles abruptly stopped and she looked him in the eye. "Are you serious, Richard? Do you really want to be married to me, even though I am a doctor? You do not want to make me give up my career?"
"Yes, I want to be married to you, and no, I would not ask you to give up your career. Elizabeth, you are doing important work. I would not dare ask you to relinquish it for fear that the Good Lord would strike me down for trying to clip the wings of an angel on Earth."
Elizabeth looked at Richard, blinking like an owl when a bright light is shone on it at night. "You mean it." She regarded him with a certain sense of wonder and realized that no, she could not envision her life without him. "Yes."
Now it was Richard's turn to be breathless. "Yes? Yes, you will marry me?"
"Yes."
He sat there for a moment with his head bobbing like a cork in a choppy stream. Then he smiled and took her in his arms. "I love you, Elizabeth Walker."
Elizabeth simply melted into his arms. "Me, too, Richard."
--*--
Charlie watched the lobby from his place in the smoking lounge, waiting for Lizzie to leave before he went back to his rooms and Rebecca. Somehow, the two women together just plain scared the bejezus out of him. But he did have to get back to the room sooner or later, as he needed to get cleaned up for dinner with the Grants, an event that called for full evening dress. Finally, he saw Lizzie stroll out to the cabstand. He hastily finished his coffee, stubbed out his cigar and hightailed it upstairs.
He walked into the room to find the maid assisting Rebecca in undressing and bathing, preparing for the first formal evening they would spend in Washington society.
"Hello, darling. I see you thought it safe to return." She sent the maid out with a gesture and then returned her attention to Charlie. "We were good, I promise."
"Not from what I heard. How did you get along?"
"We got along very well. I like her very much and I think we are on our way to becoming friends."
"I am glad, in an odd sort of way. I know Lizzie lives outside of the bounds of propriety, but I have found her to be a strong, honorable woman."
"She is indeed... a very sweet woman. I would be proud to call her my friend. I mean if I can marry a Yankee officer, then nothing is off limits for me, is it?"
Charlie looked at her and rubbed his hands over his cheeks. "I suppose not."
He started getting undressed, pulling his boots off, and unbuttoning his coat and weskit. As he did so, he pulled the papers from the lawyer out of his pocket. "I did see the attorney. Here are the adoption papers. They only have to be signed and notarized."
"Charlie, is something wrong?" Rebecca slipped on her robe and sat down next to him, gently taking his hand. "Have I upset you?"
"No, darling, not at all. It just hit me that you and I are officially about to have a family, that I have a responsibility that goes far beyond anything I ever anticipated having, and that I love you madly."
"Just remember when Em is hanging off your trouser leg and another baby is spitting up lunch on your best coat," she winked, "You asked for this."
"Perhaps I should ask General Sheridan to get me that bib."
"I am sure he would be happy to do that." She sighed and squeezed his hand. "I only want you to be happy, Charlie."
Charlie dropped his cravat on the foot of the bed and walked over to sweep Rebecca up in his arms. "I, my love, am the happiest human being on the face of the planet. Now, shall I wear my uniform or civilian clothes to General Grant’s this evening?"
"Oh, I think it is best to wear your uniform for dinner at the General's home."
Later, after much cuddling and teasing, the two were ready to set out for the General’s home. Rebecca was elegant in her green velvet evening dress; Charlie was, as usual, immaculate in his uniform. As he handed her into the carriage, he asked, "Are you ready to go and be the proper General’s wife?"
"I am ready to go in and try." She was very nervous, as could be heard in her voice and seen in the gentle shaking of her hands.
"Well, darling, if you had to choose an easy first time, it would be at General Grant’s. He is rather shy and usually very soft spoken. His wife is a very gentle lady. Neither of them stands on formality."
"Thank the Lord for small favors."
--*--
The rest of the events planned for the week went as planned. On Wednesday evening, the Redmonds dined with the Grants and a few old time career officers and their wives. In many ways, it was an enlightening evening for Rebecca. Conversation during dinner turned on politics, as was expected. There were clearly mixed feelings about President Lincoln’s policy of lenient reconstruction. Rebecca was saddened by the harshness of some of the opinions, which seemed to be in inverse proportion to the amount of time those expressing them had spent in the field against the Southern troops.
After dinner, the gentlemen retired for a cigar and a brandy, while the ladies gathered in the parlor for tea and gossip. On discovering that Rebecca had just joined the ranks of army wives, the ladies had abundant advice on how to survive the rigors of travel, of trying to establish a home in a new location every few years, of the politics of being an Army wife. While fascinating, Rebecca quietly and, to be honest, smugly thought I will not have to endure these problems, for my Charlie will just come home to me when this is over.
The next day brought a languid morning where Charlie and Rebecca stayed abed and explored the joys of being a married couple. Finally, they rose and dressed for tea with the Sewards. Rebecca found Mrs. Seward to be utterly charming, but Secretary Seward reminded her of some great snake, sitting, watching, and waiting to strike. She noticed that Charlie was far more guarded with the great man than she had ever seen him.
The evening was far more pleasant. Rebecca had never been to a real theater; she had seen only a few performances that had been presented by traveling players in Culpeper. The opulent setting of Ford’s Theater, and the power of one of the leading Shakespearean actors of the day were fascinating. Mr. Junius Booth was an older man with a most powerful presence and voice. At his peak, he had perfected his interpre
tation of Hamlet. Most people said that his son Edwin had already surpassed him, but Rebecca and Charlie both found his King Lear to be totally fascinating.
Rebecca was a bit nervous as they rode home. Tomorrow, she was invited to tea with Mrs. Lincoln, and without Charlie’s support.
"Dear heart, Mrs. Lincoln is just a woman, like any other. And I suspect a rather lonely one. She had taken a great deal of abuse because of her Southern roots and her spendthrift ways. Of course, there is the fact that she has been not quite right since the death of her son."
"Well, Charlie, you cannot blame me. I mean I am going to the home of the President and his wife. I am a Southerner. I cannot help but be nervous."
"It is no different than going to tea with Mrs. Grant or General Meigs and his wife. You know, Meigs is originally from Georgia, although Mrs. Meigs is from Pennsylvania, I believe. Just be yourself, dear, and be kind to a lady who is in a very difficult situation."
"Of course I will." Rebecca chuckled and squeezed Charlie's hand. "Can you imagine what the biddies will have to say when they find out I had tea with Mrs. Lincoln. My reputation will be beyond repair."
"Darling, you married me. Your reputation is already beyond repair."
"I assure you that this will put the final nail in the coffin." She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek before whispering in his ear. "Not that I care."
As it turned out, the afternoon with Mrs. Lincoln was very pleasant. The lady was pleased to have another Southerner to talk with –– and very informative about the politics that Rebecca would face that evening at the formal dinner with the McClellans.
--*--
Saturday, February 4, 1865
Rebecca had been very kind to Charlie; she had not demanded that he take her shopping every day. They had agreed Saturday would be their day to shop, as their only plans for the day were to attend a small concert in the evening. Charlie tucked his wallet in his pocket, pulled on his most comfortable walking shoes, and girded himself to endure what he considered torture with a smile.
Rebecca entered from the bathing room wearing the light blue walking dress Charlie was so fond of. "Am I presentable for the masses?"
"Entirely, my dear. I believe I may have to take a walking stick just to keep the local bucks away from you."
She laughed as she ran a hand over his chest. "Much like the one I will need to keep the ladies away from you."
"Shall we, my dear?" The sooner we get this started, the sooner it will be finished, I hope.
"Of course. Oh, while we are out I would very much like to buy Reverend Williams a gift. He has been so kind and supportive. I would like to thank him."
"What would you like to get him, dear?"
"I think a new Bible. The one he has is old and worn. I noticed during services last Sunday that the pages were starting to come loose."
"Ah, a lovely gift. There is a very nice bookstore just around the corner from the haberdashery."
"Wonderful. Then I am at your leisure, dear husband. Please take me and show me your city."
They strolled up 14th Street to G Street and turned east toward the Capitol. While many of the streets were cobbled, some of the smaller cross streets were still dirt and mud. Fortunately, there were raised boardwalks all through the city to help ladies protect their long dresses. One block over, they found a lovely bookstore, with a large selection of religious works.
Rebecca spent quite a while trying to choose just the proper Bible for the good Reverend. All the while Charlie leaned against a wall and tried to look like he was paying attention.
Finally she settled on a beautiful leather bound volume, which the clerk informed her he could emboss with Reverend Williams’s initials. She presented the book to Charlie.
"What do you think of this one?"
"Hummm. Nice leather."
Rebecca looked around to make sure no one could hear her, but she needed to find out if Charlie was actually paying attention. "Charlie, I think we should go back to the hotel room and you should let me strip off all your clothes and have my way with you."
"Whatever you want, dear."
"Charles Redmond! I swear!" She turned on her heel and went back to the clerk. "This one will do nicely. Thank you."
Charlie looked around, a little bewildered. He had found a copy of Xenophon’s The Thousand and was enthralled by the new translation. Rebecca was standing at the counter and, by the look on her face, she was not happy. Perhaps the Bible she had chosen was more expensive than she had expected.
Finally, Rebecca returned to him and tugged on his shoulder. "Perhaps, my dear, we should go to a tack or leather shop, some place you might feel more appealing." As she said this she handed him the package, which he was expected to dutifully carry.
"No, dear, of course not. This is your shopping trip, so we will go where you want."
At this point she could not be mad at him any longer. She realized that he was a fish out of water, and that he was really trying. "All right, Charlie. Perhaps a bite of lunch somewhere?"
"Certainly. I think there is a little tea room over on 11th that you would like." Manfully, he escorted her out of the bookstore and two blocks down the street, carrying the rather heavy Bible under his arm. As they walked, he talked about how construction was progressing on new office buildings and especially on the Archives, which was being designed specifically to house the Constitution and Declaration of Independence.
"That big building for those two documents?"
Charlie laughed. "Those two documents and all of the ensuing paperwork that goes into running the country those documents created, my dear."
Rebecca blushed, realizing that she sounded like a simpleton. "I guess you can take the woman out of the country, but not the country out of the woman. That had to be one of the most idiotic questions that has ever passed my lips."
"No, darling, not at all. I think very few people ever think about how much paper has to be created and stored to run a country."
"You are very kind, Charlie," she chuckled as they continued down the street.
The rest of the day was spent going from store to store, acquiring all of those things Rebecca had done without for so many years as the war had inexorably narrowed her life to the basics of staying alive. It was heaven for her, hell for him, and rough on Charlie’s checkbook. Charlie stopped at his favorite wine shop and sent a very profuse thank you attached to a case of outstanding brandy to General Grant for the use of his train car. Without it, Charlie would have been hard pressed to transport all of Rebecca’s purchases home.
That evening, they attended a concert put on by the Marine Corps Band. On the carriage ride to the Marine Barracks east of the Capitol building, Charlie told her how the Band came into existence. The band was really a small orchestra. Called "The President’s Own," it was a Washington institution, providing music for the people of the city since John Adams first took up residence at the White House. During the war, they held a concert every Saturday evening and played in Lafayette Park, across from the White House, every Sunday afternoon and Wednesday evenings. It was a lovely evening.
Sunday was a quiet day. They rose and attended services at St. John’s church, diagonally across the park from the White House. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln quietly joined the congregation, taking their seat in Pew 54, as had every president since Mr. and Mrs. Monroe. The service was gentle, a plea for peace, with the text based on the prodigal son. Mrs. Lincoln politely greeted Rebecca and Charlie after the service, introducing them to her husband.
That evening was most entertaining. Mr. Jay Cooke, a well-known financier, was visiting from his home in Philadelphia and staying at the Willard. Charlie and Mr. Cook had run into one another earlier in the week, and Mr. Cooke invited Charlie and Rebecca to join him for dinner. He was a charming and gracious host and Rebecca enjoyed the evening enormously. After dinner, the gentlemen excused themselves briefly to discuss business. Charlie was very thoughtful that night. When Rebecca tried to pry some i
nformation out of him, he was not particularly forthcoming. "Thinking about the future, honey. Thinking about the future." Rebecca resolved to ferret it out of him in the not too far distant future.
But for now, they needed to pack and get at least some sleep. The train home left early the following morning.
Chapter 29
Sunday, February 5, 1865
Rebecca settled into bed, while Charlie finished in the bathing room. She let her mind wonder at the possibilities for the evening, knowing full well that Charlie would not turn away her attentions.
She rolled over and looked in the nightstand to find the box containing Lizzie's gift. She quickly took it from the drawer and tucked it away on her own side of the bed. The blonde had decided that perhaps tonight was the night when the tables would be turned. She would possibly place a foot in what had been Charlie's world, while inviting Charlie into her own.
She tapped her fingers against the covers as she stared at the door, where Charlie was still ensconced, doing God only knew what. "Charlie? Are you all right?"
"Yes, dear. I was just, um, brushing my teeth." Charlie had taken special care tonight, cleaning every nook and cranny of her body, brushing her hair till it gleamed. It was the last night of their honeymoon, and she wanted to make it memorable.
Rebecca watched as Charlie dropped her robe and got into bed. The blonde smiled and gave the evening an unexpected start when she opened her own arms, inviting Charlie there.
Charlie settled into her arms, a little awkward, a little surprised, but very pleased. Being held was something that Charlie had experienced very seldom since she was a small child.
"Comfortable?" she asked as she slowly traced her fingers over Charlie's arm.
Charlie burrowed her head into the hollow of Rebecca’s shoulder and purred like a big, happy cat. "Incredibly. This feels so good. I think I understand why you like it so much."
"It is my favorite place, Charlie. Safe in your arms." She paused and let her hand slip under Charlie's arm to caress her side. "Are you ah, tired?"
Charlie’s voice dropped an octave as she stroked the soft skin over Rebecca’s ribs. "No, darling. Being with you always excites me." Charlie gently kissed the warm skin under her cheek.