Lizzie blushed at Rebecca’s outburst. Charlie’s new wife clearly regarded social norms as annoyances, which was a refreshing change of attitude in Lizzie’s experience. "Ma’am, you do not understand. If I happen to meet one of the ‘‘proper’ ladies of this town at the haberdashery or the tearoom, they will cut me dead. I would not like that to happen to you."
"Mrs. Armstrong, I honestly do not care what people think. You are an important person in Charlie's life, a person who cares for him and a person he cares for. Your friendship is far more important than what people I do not know may think, or even, for that matter, what people I do know may think, because to be perfectly honest I do not like most of them anyhow."
Lizzie looked at Rebecca with an expression of total astonishment. Women of her acquaintance were simply not so outspoken. Slowly, astonishment turned to amusement. "My, my, Charlie has indeed found his match in you, ma’am," she grinned.
"I hope so. So, now, let us put all this talk of propriety away and enjoy ourselves."
Lizzie took a sip of tea and looked over at the table with their luncheon set out waiting for them. "I will if you promise not to let that lovely luncheon get cold."
"Very well. Shall we?" Rebecca moved to the table, gesturing for Lizzie to join her. Once the woman was seated, Rebecca continued. "Tell me, when did you meet Charlie?"
"Charlie and I met back when he was a newly made a captain and was assigned to work here in the Capitol for the first time. I was just a young thing, working for one of the more discreet madams in town. In fact, he helped me go into business on my own, a kindness for which I am very grateful. Over the years, we have renewed our acquaintance whenever he was in town. He has always been more of a friend than a client."
"I could tell that. He speaks of you as if you are one of his dearest and most trusted friends. You must know it is very hard for Charlie to allow anyone to get to close to him. Even Colonel Polk, who has been Charlie's friend for many years, does not know. As far as I know, there are only five of us who know Charlie’s secret."
"So how did you figure his secret out? More significantly, how did you feel about it when you did realize what he is?"
"I noticed the first time I met Charlie. He had been wounded in the shoulder. When I cleaned the wound, I noticed the bindings under his shirt. To be honest, I was terribly confused and amazed. I was amazed he had been able to hide so well for so long. When I realized I was developing feelings for Charlie, I fought them for the longest time." She smiled at Lizzie. "Then I realized it was just useless to fight something so powerful."
"It must have been very confusing for you. I doubt you had ever met anyone like Charlie before."
"Not that I was aware of, that is for certain. But I fell in love with Charlie, not Charlie's body. She is an amazing woman and quite a gallant gentleman."
A wistful look came over Lizzie’s features, as she looked away from Rebecca. "Yes, she is amazing and he is infinitely gallant."
"You love Charlie."
Lizzie took a deep breath. "Of course I do. He is one of my dearest friends."
Rebecca smiled. "That is not what I meant. You would have gone away with Charlie and lived as his wife."
A long silence ensued, while Lizzie simply sat there, with her eyes closed, twisting her napkin into an unrecognizable wad. Finally, she responded. "No, I would not have, for Charlie never asked me and, to be honest, never loved me that way. I was his friend, his mentor, and the place he went when the pain of being alone became too great. I was never the dream he reached for, as you are."
"Mrs. Armstrong, I think I know Charlie well enough to say that had you made your feelings known, it might have very well been you. I can say with a great deal of sincerity that Charlie loves you. Very much."
"He loves me as a friend. But he is not, nor has he ever been, in love with me. There is a huge difference between what he feels for you and what he feels for me. So I envy you. I wish it had been me that he saw his future in, but it was not. Perhaps it is because of the decisions I have made in my life; perhaps it was just not meant to be. But, my dear lady, I do love him enough to wish you and him well."
"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?"