Words Heard in Silence (82 page)

"February 17. She will be two. Shall we have a little party for her when we return from Washington?"

"I think that would be lovely. Oh by the way, when are you going to break our leaving to her?"

"I thought we would break it to her after supper."

"For such a brave and well decorated soldier in President Lincoln's Army, you are a coward when it comes to your daughter."

"I most certainly am not. I just want to make sure that she knows that both of us are willing to be her parents. Rebecca, really, the child loves and depends on you as much as she does me."

"I know, but I am trying hard not to interfere with what time she has left with her mother. There will be plenty of time for me to be Momma 'Becca, later."

"I understand, but you should not deny how important you have become to her, dear. She adores you. And since we are both leaving, I think we both need to tell her. Anyway, you know what she will say."

"No, what will she say?"

"Why?" Charlie rolled his eyes. That had become Em’s favorite word in the past few weeks.

I
t was that quiet period after dinner, when Em had grown accustomed to spending time with Charlie and Rebecca. They would read her stories, draw pictures, play cat in the cradle or blocks and prepare her for bed. Tonight they were going to talk, something they often did. Charlie took her on his lap, with Rebecca sitting beside them.

"Well, my imp, how was your day?"

"Good." She settled down in the crook of his arm, getting quite comfortable.

"What did you learn today?"

She looked at him with large blue eyes and simply stuck her thumb in her mouth, while curling tighter into his arms.

"Oh, is my little ‘‘why’ bird tired?"

"Yes, Papa."

"Well, little one, you will have plenty of time to rest up. Mamma Becca and I have to go to Washington tomorrow, so Uncle Richard and Aunt Elizabeth will be looking after you, as well as your momma and Tess. We will be gone for seven days. Can you be a big girl while we are gone?"

She looked to Rebecca and then back to her Papa. "No."

"Will you at least be a good girl while we are gone?"

"Papa not go." Her brows came together as she sat up in his lap and tears started forming in her eyes. "Pwease."

Charlie looked at Rebecca. He definitely needed her assistance.

"Emily," Rebecca's voice was firm, yet soft as only a mother could be. "Your Papa and I are going to take a trip, but we will be back. You know that when Papa takes a trip, he comes home soon. Remember the last time he took a trip."

"Yes." She thought for a minute. "Brought Web home."

"Yes, Papa brought you Reb. Now you know it is all right for Papa to take a trip because he will come home. So we are going to take a trip together so Mama 'Becca can meet some of Papa's friends. But we will be back and you must be good for Uncle Richard and Aunt Elizabeth."

"Em miss Papa and Mama Becca." She sat and pouted. "Pwease no go."

"And we will miss Em, but we are going. And you will be a big, good girl and make us proud of you."

"Yes, Mama Becca."

Charlie carried a very dejected, quiet little girl up to bed that night. When he kissed her good night, she held tight. "Pwomise come back?"

"I promise Em. We will be back in a few days."

I
t was a gray, foggy morning as Rebecca and Charlie boarded the train for Washington but to Rebecca, it was the most glorious spring day, with the sun shining and the azaleas in bloom. She was on her honeymoon with Charlie. They would have an entire week together, with no demands of duty. General Grant had extended a favor, and had sent his personal railcar down with the Saturday supply train to serve as the first site of their honeymoon.

Charlie ruefully regarded the luggage rack at the back of the car
. One week and we have a trunk, two cases and three hatboxes. Oh –– and my satchel. I suppose that traveling light is not in her plans for our future.
He heaved a big sigh and decided that a simple hack would not be sufficient to convey them from the train station; he would need to hire a carriage.

Rebecca was so excited she could hardly contain herself. "Oh, Charlie, look. There are little holders for the teacups so they will not spill, and a spirit lamp to heat water. Oh, these chairs are so comfortable. General Grant is so sweet to lend us his car. He must think very highly of you to give us such a lovely gift."

Charlie knew there was no stopping her. He used a phrase he somehow suspected was going to be a major part of his vocabulary from now on. "Yes, dear."

Rebecca found the passing landscape to be fascinating. The train passed through towns and fields that had seen thousands of soldiers move through them. But it also traveled through towns and past plantations that had played key roles in previous conflicts. It mirrored part of the path that Dolly Madison had taken when she escaped from the British in the War of 1812, saving some of the greatest treasures of the new country. Charlie found he enjoyed pointing out these sites to Rebecca, and they shared an interest in history. When they arrived in Washington late in the afternoon, they were both relaxed and very happy.

Charlie hailed a carriage at the station, and with the porter’s help, loaded their luggage for the short trip to the Willard. Simpkins again met them, having anticipated their arrival. Charlie had been coming to the Willard since he was first promoted to Captain; Simpkins viewed him as one of the Willard’s best customers; always quiet, generous and undemanding. He had set aside his best suite for the General and his new wife.

He escorted the couple upstairs to the lovely suite in the corner. There was a sitting room that looked out toward 15th street and the gardens at the foot of the newly constructed Treasury building. The adjoining bedroom was spacious with a huge four-posted bed, a fine fireplace with a marble mantle and lovely green and ivory furnishings. Rebecca was charmed.

"Oh Charlie, it is beautiful. I feel very out of place."

"Rebecca, it is exactly what you deserve. A beautiful setting for a beautiful woman."

"You are going to spoil me, Charlie."

"That is exactly what I would like to do, darling."

A knock on the door disturbed them. Charlie opened it, and a smiling servant wheeled in a cart set with a lovely teapot, fresh flowers, little cakes, and an assortment of cookies. "Compliments of the house, sir. Congratulations to both of you. Your dinner will be ready and served in the garden room downstairs at eight. There is hot water in the reservoir in the bathing room, if you want to get cleaned up." The maid bobbed a curtsey and backed out of the room. Just as she was about to leave, she added, "Oh, and ma’am, if you need help dressing or with your hair, just ring and I will be happy to assist you."

Rebecca could only smile as Charlie closed the door. "Oh yes, I am going to get spoiled, General Redmond."

"Yes, ma’am. If I have anything to say about it, you certainly are."

They had just managed to wash their faces and hands, and settle down for a nice late afternoon tea when there was another knock on the door.

"Come." Charlie’s response was muffled by the piece of lemon pie he had just stuffed in his mouth.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir, but there are a number of notes for you and Mrs. Redmond." The maid set a small silver tray heaped with small envelopes on the table between Charlie and Rebecca and excused herself with, "If you have any responses, there is paper in the writing table and you have only to ring for a messenger."

Rebecca looked at the pile of envelopes. "What is this, dear?"

"I would assume they are invitations from various folks in town. Shall we?"

"That much is obvious, but I did not realize that we would attract so much attention. I thought it was just going to be a quiet week with the two of us."

"It is your choice, my love. I do have tickets for a play at Ford’s for us on Thursday. Mr. Junius Booth is doing ‘‘King Lear’. And I suspect that Mrs. Grant will want you to join her for tea. As for the rest, I am as surprised as you."

She looked at the pile in total amazement. "What about Mrs. Armstrong? Will we be calling on her?"

"I made no arrangements, as, to be honest, I was not sure how you felt about meeting her."

"You know I want to meet her, Charlie. Very much so. Do you not want us to meet for some reason?"

Charlie had the grace to look abashed. "Well, there is the issue of you meeting with a well known courtesan. I was not sure if you really wanted to or were just being polite."

Rebecca chuckled and took Charlie's hand. "Think about it, my love. What exactly about our relationship is normal? There is no reason on the face of the Earth that I should not want to meet Mrs. Armstrong. Considering our situation, I would think that we should disregard what most people consider the social norm."

Charlie laughed. "I knew there was a reason why I love you so much, darling." He kissed her hands, and then continued, "Shall I invite her to join us for a private luncheon? Or would you prefer to do the inviting? I think she might appreciate the invitation coming from you."

"I would be very happy to invite her."

"Then let us go through the rest of these invitations and plan our week." He smiled and started opening envelopes. A number of them were rather normal invitations from various social butterflies, an unavoidable part of the atmosphere of Washington. But a few were certainly worth responding to, and a smaller number were politically mandatory.

The invitations from General Meigs and General and Mrs. Grant were graciously accepted, as was Rebecca’s invitation to tea from Mrs. Lincoln. They considered and agreed that politically, they could not refuse the invitations from Mr. and Mrs. Seward, nor could they turn down General McClellan. Perhaps the most fascinating invitation was from Mr. Jay Cooke, the Philadelphia financier. This still left them time to attend the play and a concert by the Marine Corps band, and to do some touring and shopping. Charlie and Rebecca quickly wrote their acceptances and politely declined the other invitations.

"With that piece of business out of the way, would you like a bath before we have dinner? Even though the General’s car was very nice, I, for one, am lightly coated with ash from the train."

"I think that would be wonderful and I would very much like a nap as well."

"Well, darling, there is a huge bathtub and hot water waiting for you."

"So there is. Now should I call for the maid or would you prefer to help me out of my traveling clothes?"

Charlie slid his arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder. "You should know by now that I adore serving as your lady’s maid. Would you like me to wash your back as well?"

She lifted a brow at him. "Hmmm... maybe, darling. Would you consider washing my front, too?" She looked past Charlie into the bathing room. "Do you think the tub can hold us both?"

Charlie looked at the tub, then at Rebecca, then back at the tub and down at himself, as if considering a serious engineering problem. "I do believe it will hold both of us, if we are willing to be extremely friendly."

"I do not believe that is an issue with us." She grabbed Charlie's cravat. "Come, husband."

Grinning, Charlie joined her in the bedroom, where he disrobed his wife with all of the finesse of a skilled maid, ran the bath, and much more hastily shed his uniform. Charlie slid into the huge, claw-footed tub behind Rebecca and drew her back to rest comfortably in her arms. The hot water, the smell of Rebecca’s hair –– all of it was more than Charlie had ever thought she would have.

"Do you know, Mrs. Redmond, that I love you? I love everything about you. And I love it that you love me? All of me?"

Rebecca ran her hands up and down Charlie's outer thighs. "All of you, every inch of you."

The Willard staff extended themselves to provide Charlie and Rebecca with a lovely dinner. The Garden room was quiet and discreet. Each table was in its own quiet alcove, screened by plants and trellises from the other guests. A fine meal, with a good brandy afterwards, and the two retired to their room to explore the advantages of the bed.

T
hey slept in, a luxury Charlie rarely indulged in, then rose and strolled about the gardens and streets of the neighborhood. Rebecca was particularly enthralled with the construction that had begun on the planned monument to President Washington. The great obelisk was not yet completed, and the war effort had suspended work indefinitely, but it was still clear it would tower over all other buildings in the capital city.

Charlie had reserved a small carriage for them from the Willard’s livery stable, so they were able to tour about comfortably, looking at the various sites in the city. As they rode down the dirt track toward Georgetown to General Meigs’ home, Rebecca marveled over how much progress had been made in just seventy years at turning Washington into a real city.

"I am surprised that you do not want to return here, Charlie. It seems to me that someone with your record and standing in the service would have many opportunities here in Washington after the war."

"I am sure I would have many opportunities. Do you think you would prefer to live here, dear? I had not thought of it, but if you wish?"

"Charlie, I want what is best for you. I love the farm, and I think we would have the best horse-breeding program in the state. But we must do what is best for you."

"My dear, we must do what is best for us –– and for our children. If living here in Washington appeals to you, I am willing to discuss it. But I am tired of the politics and the infighting. I would be perfectly happy on the farm."