The maid lifted the wedding gown from the chest. "Oh Miss Rebecca, it is beautiful. What should I do with it?"
Rebecca considered the gown. "Just launder it and pack it away. I have no need for it."
"But……"
"Please Lizbet, trust me with this." She smiled and patted the young woman’s arm, before looking up and seeing Charlie in the door. "Colonel, you are finished early today. That is good, I hope." She gave Lizbet a pat on her shoulder to send her on her way.
"The mountain of paperwork was pretty tough today. I think I have a headache just from reading all of the excuses from the Quartermaster General's office." Charlie flopped into a chair in front of the fireplace. "I also had some visitors from town today. There are some serious problems starting to arise because they are getting a constant stream of refugees from some of the areas that are now under siege. We will have to do something about it."
Rebecca slid up behind him and began a firm massage of tight and tired muscles. "Then maybe an early supper then off to bed for a good nights rest? We can worry about other things tomorrow."
He really had not paid much attention to Rebecca's interaction with her maid when he came in, but something was not quite right here. Something in her voice signaled some strain or concern. "Rebecca, dear, what is bothering you?"
"Oh, it is nothing Charlie. Just trying to vanquish some old demons." She took a deep breath and continued to rub his shoulders. "Would you like some tea? I will have Beulah make some fresh for you?"
"I think that tea and some quiet talk would be good for both of us, dear. Old demons are something you and I can dispel together."
"Then take off your boots and get comfortable while I see to it." She gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.
Charlie pulled his boots off and slipped on the pair of carpet slippers that Rebecca had found for him. He thought carefully on what he had seen as he came in, and remembered the dress. It had been white, with a good bit of lace. Oh God, it was her wedding dress. I hope she is not regretting her relationship with me, and missing her husband. Charlie was feeling more than a little nervous, waiting for her return.
Within a few minutes they were seated side by side sipping warm tea and resting, watching the flames in the fireplace. Rebecca glanced to Charlie. "Better? How is your headache?"
"Yes, love. Just being with you is enough to ease my stress."
"I am glad." She reached over and intertwined her fingers with his. "How is winter camp coming? Is everything coming together for the men?"
"You know it is. You want to tell me what has you upset and what you are avoiding, love?"
"I fear you are getting to know me too well. I assure you it is nothing. Simply old memories, but now is not the time to look back. Now is the time to look forward. We have much to plan for when you come home to stay."
"Rebecca, darling, we both have many ghosts in our past. We will have to face many challenges in the future, as well. I think it would serve both of us to find those things that lurk in our memories and expunge them - both for ourselves and for our future." The gentleness of his voice softened the bluntness of his words.
She looked down at her teacup. "It is my husband." She looked to her lover. "I swear to you it is not important anymore, Charlie. I do not know why I let it bother me so."
"Love, if it bothers you, it is important. Tell me. Let us lay that ghost to rest together, dear." As long as that ghost is around, eventually he will come between us. And I swear, if I can do anything to dispel that, I will.
Yes, certainly, you will, Charlie - the knight on the white horse, displacing the real man with the false one.
"He hurt me, Charlie." She blurted it out before she had a moment to think about it. Now her biggest fear was that Charlie would view her as damaged goods and want to be as far away from her as possible. She prepared to let him walk out of her life.
Hurt her? He hurt her? His first reaction was anger. Immediately, he realized that she did not need his anger; she needed his understanding and love. Instead of lashing out, he gathered her in his arms. "I am so sorry, love. I do not know how he hurt you, or even why, but I do know that you could never do anything to deserve to be hurt."
She fought tears that threatened to overwhelm her from Charlie’s tenderness. "Thank you," she whispered.
Charlie braced himself, knowing perfectly well that when anyone had faced a painful and violent situation, talking about it was important. Time and again, he had sat and coaxed stories of pain, and fear and bewilderment out of his men. He could do no less for this gentle woman. "Can you tell me about it, love?"
"I do not know what to tell you, Charlie. It was an arranged marriage; we certainly did not love each other. He was several years older than I was; he made it quite clear from the very beginning that my place in this house was at his pleasure and his leisure. I tried to be a good wife, Charlie, I really did, but very little seemed to please him."
Charlie was very careful. The tone of her voice told him there was much more under these simple statements. "I am so sorry, it sounds like a very lonely and sterile existence. Perhaps if you continue, you will feel better."
She seemed to be thinking back and slowly detaching herself from the present, to pull up those old memories. "He used to decide everything for me, including what I was allowed to eat and wear. One time I spilled something on my day dress and I changed my clothes. When he came in he was furious," She paused, trying to sniff back the tears. "He grabbed me by the arm and took me to the wash room. He ripped the clean dress off me and made me put the other back on……" She stopped, her face twitching and lips quivering with the memory.
The image that came to Charlie's mind was clear. The deceased and not lamented Mr. Gaines clearly tried to control her, and may have enjoyed humiliating her. Charlie was very familiar with such harsh treatment. In fact, Gaines was sounding painfully like his own father after his mother's death. Gently he stroked Rebecca's back. "Its all right, my dear. You are safe now; just let it go. Give the memories to me and together we will put them in the past."
"He……ah……he used to tell me I was worthless and stupid and that I was lucky to have him. That I was fortunate that he took pity on me and married me. That he provided me a home and food and the clothes on my back." She wiped a tear way. "He was furious when I did not give him a child in the first year and that is when it started."
Charlie continued to softly stroke her back. He kept his voice low and neutral and continued to gently probe, trying to give her a safe space to let out all of the pain and all of the shame that went with such treatment. "Love, was it always like this, or did something happen that marked the start of this... harsh behavior?"
"When my father arranged the marriage, I know he thought I would be all right or he never would have done it. But from the very first day, he started telling me how he only married me because my family needed the prestige of being related to the Gaines’. That if he had his choice he would have picked a pretty woman, but I looked good and strong and would be well suited for giving him a son every year. And when I did not, he started drinking and then the beatings started." She gave a little laugh. "My family thought I had become the clumsiest human begin on Earth. I was always having an accident of some type. He told me that if I ever said differently, he would kill me and then say he caught me with a stable hand and did it in a moment of passion."
Strong arms held her gently. If she had broken down and sobbed, it would have been easier, but this flat, almost emotionless discussion, broken only by that little, painful, embarrassed laugh, frightened Charlie beyond words. It suggested that she actually believed the bastard's lies. "Rebecca, look at me, please."