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 interpretation 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.