Charlie stopped them both on the sidewalk in front of the jeweler’s. "First. You are not a common whore. You are one of the most gracious, generous women I know and I am proud to call you my friend. As to the second, I am sorry, Lizzie, that I am not for you. You will always have my friendship, my loyalty, and my trust. If you ever have need of anything –– anything - you have but to ask."
"Thank you, Charlie. You mean the world to me as well. You know my door is always open to you and yours." She took his arm. "Now, show me these lovely rings you have chosen."
The two of them entered the shop. The jeweler, like the haberdasher, knew the generous Mrs. Armstrong well. He was startled to see her arm in arm with the very formal and proper General Redmond. A slight flush rose to the man's cheeks. "General Redmond, Mrs. Armstrong, welcome. General, I have your order ready. I do hope Mrs. Armstrong approves."
"Oh, I only wish, my good man. But I am only the gallant General’s assistant today. His lovely bride awaits him in Culpeper."
The clerk looked at the General, who was smiling benignly, and reappraised the man. Clearly, his presentation was as formal and proper as one might wish. But to have the social grace and impudence to call upon the most notorious madam in town to assist in purchasing his wedding rings and his bride's engagement ring was downright stunning. Hastily, he presented the three bands, two plain and one bearing a beautiful square cut emerald surrounded by diamonds, to the obviously discerning audience.
"Oh, Charlie," she gasped. "They are beautiful. I am sure Rebecca will be very pleased."
"I do hope so. The emerald seemed so appropriate for her. It matches her eyes."
"Oh, you are smitten. Tell me, if she asked you for the moon, would you pull it down for her?"
"If it were in my power to do so, yes." His answer was stated simply and with total conviction.
"And I am sure she would do the same for you."
"I would not ask her to." All I want from her is whatever love she chooses to give me. No more, no less.
"From what you tell me, you would not need to ask. I think she would face the fires of Hell for you."
"I think she may be already. You see, there are these women in town she calls the ‘‘biddy brigade’. They are not exactly pleased with her for choosing to marry a Yankee. Excuse me. A damned Yankee."
"She is not marrying a Yankee, she is marrying a wonderful person who adores her, and years after this conflict is over, that is all that will matter."
"Actually, ma'am, she is not marrying a Yankee at all. I am from Charleston, remember?"
"Indeed you are, sir. Indeed you are." She watched as Charlie tucked the ring boxes in his pocket. "Now may I suggest that we have that tea?"
"I need to make a brief stop at the wine shop, which is on the way, and then tea, I promise."
"Wonderful."
They strolled up E Street toward 15th and the small vintner's shop that was located on the way to the Willard. A quick stop, where Charlie ordered several casks of brandy, some small casks of rum for his men and several cases of champagne and other wines for the wedding.
They entered the Willard arm in arm and Charlie commandeered the most sought after table in the lovely garden room for the two of them to partake of a formal tea.
"You know, you are taking a terrible risk?"
"How so, my dear?"
"A lot of these men know you. To be seen with me, on basically the eve of your wedding. What if Rebecca finds out?"
"I told her I would be seeing you on this trip. She felt it was a good thing for me to inform you of our plans personally and asked me if I would invite you to the wedding."
"You are going straight to hell for telling such lies, Charles Redmond."
"Why would I lie about such a thing, Lizzie?" Charlie was genuinely confused. He had been honest with Rebecca, who knew that Lizzie was a good friend. Why would Lizzie think otherwise?
"Propriety, my dear friend, does not allow for such things. You and I both know that."
"Propriety is not a particularly vital part of my relationship with Rebecca." Charlie's tone was wry.
Lizzie sat back in her chair and smiled at her friend. "So it would seem. You two are going to turn Culpeper on its head, I think."
The wry smile got a bit drier. "I think we already have."
"And you are enjoying every moment of it," she teased, giving his hand a squeeze. "Are you not? Tell me what have you done?"
Charlie launched into an animated discussion of the efforts to begin an orderly transition from wartime to peacetime relations with the citizens of Culpeper County. Of course, Mrs. Williams and her harridan ways were key elements of his narrative. He spoke of many things, none of them relevant to the military actions of his regiment. Finally, he told her of the refugees and the problems they faced. Little Emily played a prominent role in his story.
"So not only a wife, but a surrogate daughter as well?"
"Poor child lost her father. Evidently, I look somewhat like him, so she has attached herself to me. Her mother is just grateful she no longer cries for her Papa." He paused for a moment. "Her mother is not doing well. Elizabeth Walker believes she will not survive her current pregnancy, so I may indeed end up with a daughter."
"Hmm. I will wager when you return home you will find she has been crying for you. I am sure everyone will be relieved." She sipped her tea and gave Charlie a look he instantly knew was trouble. "So would you like some instruction for the item I intend to send home with you?"
"Ah, I suspect that I would need to know just what you were sending home with me, ma'am, before I could answer that question."
"Well, now, I think you and Rebecca will find a use for the item." She grinned. "In the privacy of your bedroom."
"Ah, Lizzie, could we have this discussion somewhere less... public?"
Now she was really laughing. "Oh Charlie, you are a sweet man. I love the way your ears turn red."
Charlie took a deep, calming breath. "Yes, well, I am told the color compliments my eyes rather nicely."
"Yes, it does." She reached out and stroked gently just around his eyes. "I shall miss them."
Abruptly, Charlie wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Are you ready to leave, my dear?"
"Of course."
Each time Charlie was confronted with Lizzie's real affection and the wistful regret that surfaced, he felt a bittersweet combination of regret and guilt coupled with fondness. No, she was not the love of his life. But she had been one of the few true friends he ever had. And she was the only lover he ever had, one who had gently and very tenderly taught him to be comfortable with his body and with the act of love.
He escorted her to the taxi stand, and gently handed her into the hackney, climbing in after her. For a long time, he was silent as they rode back toward her home. Yet he held her hand in the crook of his arm, with his own larger hand over it.
"Charlie, what is wrong?"
"I have just been thinking on all of the things you have meant to me in my life, all of the gifts you have given me. I want you to know, you will never lose my friendship. True friends are far too rare and precious to ever walk away from."
"I know that, dear friend. You have given to me just as much as I have given you. Charlie, I was with you because I wanted to be with you. Think about it. Did I ever take any money from you?"
"No, you never did. And I have always known it was because you and I were friends. No, we were more than that. We were lovers. I do not know if you have had other lovers, but I do know I will always cherish the memories of our times together and the gifts you gave me, the things you taught me." He raised her hand to his lips and caressed the backs of her fingers very gently.
"There were no others in my life I cared for as I care for you, Charlie. I am so happy you have found your happiness with Rebecca."