Charlie whispered in her ear, "Love, we either have to stop or we have to make a commitment to go on and the devil take anyone who stumbles upon us. For I crave your touch past words to tell you."
Rebecca pulled back and looked at Charlie. "Go on? Outside? My, my, Colonel." She laughed. Nothing like that had ever been suggested to her before.
"My love, if you keep teasing me like this, I probably would not care if the entire regiment were watching."
"Charlie!" She blushed and buried her face in his neck. "I cannot believe you said that."
"And would you prefer that I could resist you, dear?" This teasing was more fun than he had anticipated.
"You need not resist me, Charlie, but that was just scandalous." she smiled, running her hand over his chest. "I am glad you cannot resist me," she said sincerely before kissing him again.
Charlie groaned and sank into her kiss. When he could speak again, he looked into her eyes. "This is wonderful, darling, soon to be wife of mine, but I think it is getting late, love. And it is getting colder. We need to get back. To our nice, warm room. To our nice soft bed."
Rebecca’s laugh could only be described as sensual. "Oh yes, that is an absolute must. Our nice…… warm... bed."
Charlie stood and pulled her up into his arms. She came to him fluidly, almost boneless and for a moment, the two stood, wrapped close, just savoring the feel. "Time to go, dear."
"By all means, dear man, lead the way. But do it very slowly. I am afraid I may be just a tad tipsy."
"Stand here, while I gather up our blanket. I shall get you home in one piece, I promise." Quickly, Charlie gathered up the blanket and the remains of their afternoon snack and stowed them in his saddle bags. The last thing to go into the saddlebag was the silver flask. "One more?"
"You are trying to get me drunk." She teased, even as she accepted the cup.
"I am trying to keep you from getting sick from the cold. And I will take the last of that, if you do not mind."
"If you insist." She handed him the cup.
Charlie lifted the cup in silent toast to his bride and tossed back what was left, then stowed the flask. He whistled for Shannon and she obediently came to him, allowing him to lift Rebecca into the saddle. "Take care of my girl, Shannon."
"Your Shannon is a very good girl. I am sure she will see me safely home."
Jack was a little less cooperative, having stood patiently while Charlie packed his gear. He danced a step or two as Charlie swung into the saddle. They set off at an easy pace, riding knee to knee, as much to make sure Rebecca was not too inebriated to ride, as to enjoy the closeness of her company.
"I promise you, Charlie, I will not embarrass you by falling out of the saddle." She reached across and took his hand.
The trip home was uneventful. They arrived at evening mess, so there were few men around the stables. Charlie was left to groom the horses himself as his companion looked on.
He settled both horses into the holding stalls and began with Shannon, pulling her saddle, bridle, and saddle blanket off and setting them onto the racks to be cleaned. The mare received a rough currying, with special attention to the area under the saddle pad that was damp with sweat, and an apple as a reward for good behavior followed. He led her to her regular stall, where she settled down to peacefully munch some hay. Then he returned to tend to Jack.
Rebecca watched Charlie, with a look that was half smile and half leer. She was feeling the effects of the brandy to her very toes and she wanted to play. She walked over and leaned on the wall watching him. "Do you have any idea how handsome you are?"
"I am certainly glad you think so, my love, as you will have to look at me for many years to come."
"I do think so, very much." She moved to the front of the stall and slowly moved close to Charlie.
Charlie was focused on brushing Jack down and did not realize that Rebecca was coming closer and closer. "I will have to stay fit for you, then."
"Oh yes, it is a must," she purred as her hands came to rest directly on his tightly muscled bottom, which she proceeded to give a long loving rub. "Hurry, Charlie, that nice warm bed awaits us."
Her hands on his rump were the last things Charlie expected. Her hands kneading his buttocks were almost more than he could take. For a moment, he froze; then his forehead dropped onto Jack’s near wither. In a very low, warning tone, he queried, "Ah, Rebecca, dear?"
"Yes, Charlie, dear." He did not have to turn around to see the smile on her face; he could hear it.
"We will be able to go inside sooner if you, ah, refrain from ––"
"From?" she teased further, giving his bottom a little pinch.
"From playing with my body," he whispered.
She removed her hands and put them up playfully. "Your wish is my command."
Charlie groaned. Under his breathe, he muttered, "I could dream." He quickly finished grooming Jack, gave the big horse his favorite treat, a carrot, and led him to his stall. "There. Shall we, ma'am?" Charlie offered Rebecca his arm to escort her decorously to the house.
"We shall, Colonel." She winked and took his arm.
As they walked out of the stables, they could hear sniggering behind them. Charlie turned and looked.
Standing at the corner of the barn, were three of the Pennsylvania contingent of the regiment. They gave their commander very impressed looks. "Very nice, Colonel," one yelled. Another was laughing so hard Charlie thought that he might pass out.
The next trooper waved. "Now we know why they call you Lucky Charlie!"
Charlie's first impulse was to call them down for being disrespectful, until he felt Rebecca's silent chuckle. Instead, he grinned, threw the men a casual salute and walked on with the beautiful woman on his arm giggling softly.
"I think your status with your men just went up tenfold, Colonel."
"Well, perhaps it will put some lie to the rumor that I prefer the company of men." A cheerful grin lit his features. Little did any of his men realize the full meaning of that statement.
"Well, then, I suggest we just finish off that rumor right now." She pulled Charlie to a stop and threw her arms around him, bestowing a deep kiss upon him. When they parted, she looked back to the men who were staring, slack jawed. "Have a good evening, gentlemen."
Charlie looked back, winked and smiled. "Gentlemen, meet my bride."
Rebecca whispered, "Protecting my reputation, Charlie?"
"Always, my dear. I prefer not to have you referred to as the Colonel's whore. They will refer to you as the Colonel's lady or they will not enjoy their lives."
"I love you, Charlie. You are my hero."
--*--
T
he two of them walked into the house just as the ladies were preparing to go in for dinner. They rushed upstairs to clean up from their ride. Charlie used Rebecca’s small sitting room as his dressing room, while Lizbet helped her mistress out of her riding habit and into a dress more appropriate for supper at home. Within a matter of minutes, they were ready to join the other inhabitants of the house for a warm, though simple meal.
Charlie escorted Rebecca to her place at the foot of the table, and then took his own seat at the head. The two of them had fallen into the patterns of a more courtly and traditional time so easily. Elizabeth shook her head and smiled softly to herself.
Yes, Charlie was hooked, well and truly. The role of master of the house suits him.
They all bowed their heads to say grace, then Beulah and Reg began serving the soup. Charlie started the conversation by inquiring after the events of the day. Young Jeremiah Carter piped up excitedly "I went fishing and caught dinner for us!"
"Well done, young sir. And what kind of fish are we having?"
"Corporal Nailer said they were the nicest bass he had seen in ages."
"I like bass quite a bit. Thank you for your contribution to the table."
Jeremiah glowed. The tall colonel may have been a Yankee, but he was also a nice man, who always spoke to him politely and let him eat with the grown ups, a privilege he had not enjoyed in his own home. Then the reality of the situation descended on him again. He remembered that Charlie and even Duncan were the enemy and he retreated back into the sullen silence that had been his more normal behavior.
As Jeremiah’s fish was being served, the ladies all ‘‘oohed’ and ‘‘ahhed’ over his catch. When the praises for the lad had died down, Rebecca spoke up.
"Ladies, I have a great favor to ask of you."
All heads turned to their hostess with looks of interest on their faces. Miss Rebecca had offered them sanctuary; returning the service in some way was certainly a welcome opportunity for these proud women.
"As I think you know, the Colonel has asked me to be his bride, and I have consented. Alas, the demands of the times have created a situation where urgency is more important than propriety. We have set the date for January 28th."
A buzz went round the table. The 28th was so soon, and with Christmas and the New Year ahead, it gave them very little time to prepare for a proper wedding worthy of their respected host and hostess.
Rebecca continued, "Ladies, I will need the assistance of every one of you to make sure this wedding is all that we can make it." She smiled charmingly at each of the women at the table. The buzz turned into an instant cacophony, with words like ‘‘dress patterns,’ ‘‘lace,’ ‘‘flowers,’ ‘‘cake,’ and ‘‘wine’ all bubbling up to the top of the din. Charlie and Jeremiah looked at one another in mild panic. By mutual consent, the man and boy both skipped dessert, excusing themselves to go and hide in the back parlor, where Charlie chewed a cigar to shreds while he played a game of checkers with the boy.
--*--
A
s the two were finishing their game, one of the new servants, another of Beulah’s cousins, knocked on the door. "Colonel, sir, the little one refuses to go to bed without seeing her Papa. Miss Constance told me that she thinks you are her daddy, and I swear I do not know what else to do with her." As she was speaking, little Emily squirmed in her arms, trying to get down to go to Charlie. The look on Emily’s face was one of quiet determination.
Charlie held out his arms to the little girl. "That is all right, Tess." He turned to Jeremiah. "Will you excuse me while I settle this young’un down?"
Jeremiah looked on with wide eyes. Yankee officers were supposed to be devils that ate small children for breakfast. This one was a gentleman who treated him like an honored guest and a grown up, and who comforted little Southern girls who mistook him for their father, not the ogre he had be taught to expect. Still, Yankees killed his father. The boy was getting more and more confused. All the things he had been told did not match his own experience. Duncan was kind, almost like an uncle and the Colonel was a gentleman with an accent more obviously Southern than his own. As he watched, he thought hard about his own father, killed only a couple of months before at the battle of Winchester.
While Jeremiah brooded, Charlie took Em into his arms. "Were you a good girl today?"
"Um huh." One finger went into her mouth and she cuddled against the scratchy blue wool covering his shoulder.
"My good girl. You ate all your supper?"
A little head nodded. Charlie looked inquiringly at Tess who smiled and nodded as well.
"So why were you being naughty when Tess told you it was time to go to bed?"
"Want hugs, Papa. Miss Papa. Em not sweepy." Em yawned and cuddled into his shoulder.
Charlie smiled and held the little girl closer. She wrapped one hand around one of his buttons, sucked on her finger a little, then promptly feel asleep on his shoulder. He held her for a few minutes to make sure she was sound asleep, kissed her on the forehead, and then handed his small bundle back to Tess. "Thank you, Tess. Tuck her in well."
"I will, sir."
"Good night."
The young woman left the room carrying the child. Jeremiah sat in his chair, looking thoroughly confused.
Charlie watched the boy, waiting patiently for him to speak. Since he had arrived, Jeremiah had been sullenly polite, distant, and obviously angry, both at the Union troops because he blamed them for his father’s death and at his mother for demanding that he be a gentleman and mind his manners. Perhaps the boy was finally ready to talk.
"Why does she call you papa? You are not her father, you are just a damned Yankee passing through." Jeremiah had been dying to ask Charlie this very cutting question for a while, but had not found the courage before tonight.
"I think it is because I look something like her own father, and she misses him."
"Why would she want to call a Yankee papa? I would never do a thing like that. It insults the memory of her father."
"Jeremiah, she is just a little girl who does not understand or care about North and South, Yankee and Confederate. She just misses her daddy. I look like him, am kind to her, and make her feel safe. I like to think that if her father were alive, he would appreciate the care I give his daughter in his place."
"Sir. My father would not appreciate it if I called a Yankee ‘‘Papa.’ He would be offended and feel betrayed. My father fell at Winchester, fighting with Jubal Early against your side."
Charlie was a little startled. Jeremiah already had a number of confusing problems to deal with. The possiblity that his father had been killed by one of Charlie’s own troops in the heat of battle was something that he needed to address and quickly or this mercurial and proud boy might find himself in a great deal of trouble very soon.
"So tell me, Jeremiah, do you understand why we are at war?"
The youth gave him a very startled and confused look. "Everybody knows why we are at war."