"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.
--*--
E
m 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 down 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."
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."
--*--
C
harlie 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?"