For you MASH folks, remember that Charles's sister stutters. Oh, and the shooting of Jessie (Rebecca's mother) that's mentioned here back in Korea is a REALLY long story. Seriously. But, she stepped between a North Korean girl with a gun and Radar O'Reilly. That was when Jessie and Radar were seeing each other before Charles. Oh, and Martene is mentioned. Charles had a brief fling with her on the series in one episode, and she makes an untimely appearance in my MASH fan fic. That should be enough to get you through this chapter.
"Reese practically worships that boy," Mrs. Davis said, bringing in a tray of sandwiches and drinks for the women in her mother's study. Jessie, Aunt Honoria, Hannah, Rebecca and their cousin Mary Beth were stuffing envelopes for the Ladies' Auxiliary fundraiser next month. Luke and Reese had bowed out gratefully to go fishing in the Charles River.
"W-w-well, you h-have to admit, Luke's sp-spent more t-time with him th-this week than h-his own br-brother has since h-he's started s-s-school."
Jessie sat down an envelope and stretched. "I don't know what I'm going to do with Emerson. He is so much like his father sometimes, it's uncanny."
"Uncle Charles isn't so bad," Mary Beth chimed in. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. Being eight months pregnant wasn't as fun as everyone claimed it would be.
Honoria handed her daughter another stack of envelopes. "K-keep busy. It will m-make you f-f-forget you're as m-miserable as you l-l-look."
"She looks like she couldn't get out of that chair if the house caught on fire," Hannah quipped and ducked when a pillow whizzed by her head.
"Y-your uncle was m-much more unmanageable b-b-before he m-met Jess, Mary Beth."
"It was probably Korea that changed him more than I did," Jessie said, pointing an envelope for emphasis. "While I would never wish that experience on any of my children, it has a humbling effect on anyone who grew up like this." She resumed stuffing the envelopes. "Luke seems to be taking all of us in stride."
"Yeah. I think Grandmother and Grandfather intimidated him a bit, but he seems to be fine. It takes a lot to rattle his cage," Rebecca sponged another envelope, long ago figuring out it was better than licking 2,000 invitations.
Honoria leaned forward. "You know, I th-think M-mother actually l-likes Luke. She kept t-talking about h-his lovely accent all l-last n-night."
"Well, he is rather likable," Mary Beth pointed out.
"You should see his cousin!" Hannah added. "He's completely gorgeous! If I wasn't dating Ben, I'd set my cap for him."
"Hannah!" Rebecca said. "You know Dad would croak if both of us took up with a Georgia boy!"
"Well, it's not like you're going to marry him." She cut her eyes at her daughter. "Are you?" Jessie wasn't blind. But, she wanted to hear it from her daughter herself.
Rebecca pretended to be interested in creasing an envelope. "He hasn't asked. And I really haven't thought about it." She looked up at three sets of eyes on her. "Really! I haven't!"
Hannah tossed her hair over her shoulder. "She probably hasn't thought about it because she's too busy between the sheets."
"Yeah, I bet he's great in bed," Mary Beth added, reaching for another sandwich. While not usually so open about such things, Mary Beth had found that pregnancy, and all the hormones that came with it, made her spout whatever she thought about most any subject.
Rebecca's mouth fell open at her sister and cousin. Her tanned face turned a bright shade of red. She didn't dare look at her mother. "Good Lord, y'all!"
"Y'all?" Hannah laughed. "You're even starting to talk like him!" She leaned in closer. "So, tell us? How is he?"
Rebecca choked on her tea. Sputtering, she wiped her mouth with her napkin. "All of you have lost your minds!" she finally croaked.
Jessie laughed. "Look, we remember being young. It wasn't too long ago that your father and I . . ."
"Mother!" Hannah and Rebecca interjected as their mother and aunt giggled. By now, the invitations were momentarily forgotten.
"I cannot believe I am having this conversation," Rebecca crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I plead the fifth."
"You should have been an attorney," Jessie said. By the color in her normally unruffled daughter's cheeks, she already knew the answer. This was a little more serious than she thought. Well, good for her.
Rebecca was desperate to get the topic of conversation off her love life. "So, Hannah, tell Mom and Aunt Honoria about you and Ben's little roll on the beach after last weekend's trip to Bridgeport. And about Uncle Hawkeye catching the two of you!"
Now it was Hannah's turn to sputter. Jessie stared at her youngest daughter. "I'm surprised Margaret didn't tell me . . ."
"They swore Ben's father not to tell," Mary Beth snorted. She didn't miss the dating pool one bit, happy with her husband of two years.
"That's unlike Hawkeye to keep a secret," Jessie said, shrugging. "Oh well. It's just as well. Charles would hit the roof if he knew you had taken up with his just-as-wild son."
"Ch-charles would h-hit the r-r-roof if h-he found out any of his ch-children were no l-l-longer children," Honoria pointed out.
"They do grow up so fast, don't they?" Jessie said wistfully.
Luke studied the painting over the mantel in Dr. Winchester's study. It was a huge oil painting of his wife and children done before Rebecca came to Hazzard. Across the room over the bookcase, there was a portrait of Rebecca's mother, done many years before, dressed in a rather revealing evening dress. He chuckled to himself when he thought about what Mrs. Winchester said about her husband liking her in green. She was definitely a looker.
But, the photographs interested Luke the most. They were of all the children in various stages of their lives. There was Emerson at a birthday party, looking just as unhappy in his birthday hat as he did in his cap and gown. Luke had a feeling he always looked that way, no matter what the occasion. Another was of Hannah and Reese, probably seven and four, he guessed, grinning at the camera from a swimming pool. He found one of Rebecca probably taken 10 years earlier, but there was no mistaking the determined look on her face as her horse jumped an obstacle in competition.
There was also a candid snapshot of the four of them together. They were all dressed casually, and Emerson was leaned in close, his arm around a much younger Reese. Hannah and Rebecca were looking off camera and laughing at something unseen.
For some reason, all the photos caught Luke off guard. Once you pulled all the trappings of a wealthy society away, you found the Winchesters were just as normal as his family.
The one that really interested him was the one in the middle. It was taken with an old black-and-white camera and had yellowed a bit with age, a little fuzzy to begin with. Luke picked it up to study it closer, glancing up at the oil painting of Mrs. Winchester to be sure it was her.
It was obviously taken in Korea, the canvas behind them and their uniforms giving it away. She looked pale, but the playful glint in her eyes was unmistakable as she was wearing Dr. Winchester's hat, major insignia displayed prominently.
He didn't even hear Charles come into the room.
"That photo was taken right after she was shot."
Luke gingerly replaced it, hoping Dr. Winchester didn't mind him looking at his photographs while he waited. "Were the two of you . . . dating?"
Charles settled behind his desk. "No, we weren't. Although, we were quite good friends at the time." He thought fleetingly of O'Reilly. It was all such a long time ago.
He leaned back in his chair. "You said you wanted to see me. Please have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"
Luke obediently sat across the large mahogany desk. "No, thank you."
Charles poured himself a liberal dose of cognac. "Seems like an old moonshine runner like you would appreciate some of the fine liquors I have acquired."
Charles glanced up to see what kind of reaction he would get.
Luke watched him curiously, a trifle uneasy.
"You don't think I'd let my daughter run around with anyone that I was not aware of any background information. I have contacts that allow me to keep in touch with her activities, if she knows it or not." Charles sat back with his drink in his hand.
This was going to be harder than I thought. Luke rubbed his hands back on forth on his slacks, wishing desperately for a pair of jeans. At least he could be physically comfortable. And he wondered just what "activities" Dr. Winchester was talking about.
"Does Rebecca know?"
"Know what?" Charles rather enjoyed having the upper hand.
"That she's being spied on." He met her father's gaze evenly.
"Mr. Duke, how I handle my own daughter is none of your concern," he sniffed.
This was not going at all like Luke hoped it would. Rather, it was going just as he expected it to. "Well, Dr. Winchester, I expect anything that deals with your daughter is my concern." He tried to sound nonchalant, but inside, he was seething.
Charles didn't seem overly concerned. "I suppose you're referring to the ring you've been carrying around. Since before that cretin Hogg tried to marry her."
Luke stood up abruptly, the idea of having some hired snoop go through his personal affairs shocking. "If you have sent someone to go through my home . . ."
"Sit down. I haven't hired anyone to do anything to you." But, I could. "I just have someone tell me all the local gossip frequently, which you seem to be quite the star." That Hogg fellow would do anything to make a buck.
Reluctantly, Luke returned to his chair, eyeing Dr. Winchester warily.
Charles gestured. "Well, aren't you going to ask me?"
Luke had decided to do the right thing, although he was a little concerned about how all of this would turn out. Now, he knew he should have never brought it up.
He took a deep breath. "I wanted to speak with you to ask your permission to marry Rebecca." He held up his hand when Charles opened his mouth to reply. "But, I already know what your answer will be. I guess I've always known, but thought it wise to do what was right and ask your permission first. But, now I'm not asking."
Charles raised an eyebrow at his comment, but remained silent. Luke continued.
"I guess what I'm here to say is I plan on asking your daughter to marry me. I can provide for her, maybe not like you can," he gestured around the ornate room, "but I can still provide what she needs."
Charles sipped his drink, thinking about what he would say next. He knew he couldn't threaten to take her out of his will. Jessamyn's family was worth twice what his was, and Rebecca had an airtight trust from the Callahan's. And Charles didn't really think he had an ally in his wife. She wouldn't try to stop them. Not after O'Reilly.
And he really didn't think threatening Rebecca with loss of her inheritance would work anyway. More than likely, she would marry this boy anyway. Just like her mother, that one.
"Well, you're right. I would not give my permission. Rebecca was born into luxury that her mother and I can provide for her, luxury that most eligible young men, even in Boston, could not provide." For some strange reason, he thought briefly of Martene. "However, it is not up for me to dictate my daughter's life. If she wants to marry you and raise a family as a farmer's wife, than that is of her own accord. But, she will not have my blessing."
Thank God he wouldn't try to stop her. Luke was afraid he might. "Somehow, I don't think your blessing will matter."
"Oh, I agree with you on that one. Are you so certain she will say yes?" Charles knew the answer. He had seen the look in his daughter's eyes.
"I wouldn't ask her if I thought she wouldn't."
Charles leaned forward. "Don't think you can marry her just to get your hands on any money . . ."
Luke stood. "I would marry her if she was poorer than me and living in the swamp. Much as it seems unlikely, money doesn't matter to me and my family as it does to you and yours. We've seen how cold and callous dollars and cents can make a man, and we want none of it."
Charles nodded, admiring the boy's spirit, if anything. "Very well. But, let me tell you one thing. She is and always will be my little girl." It almost brought tears to his eyes to think of how much she had grown, but he sojourned on. "She's got her mother's determination, but she really is a gentle soul."
Luke nodded once in recognition, then turned to leave the room, shutting the door softly behind him.
Charles knew the boy would never hurt Rebecca, not after he saved her from that burning house – dear God, what was she thinking? And then, there was the episode with the blackmail – why didn't she come to me? Both problems were worked out. Without him.
And that's probably what bothered him the most. Rebecca was an adult and didn't really need him anymore. All his children were grown, except for maybe Reese, and no matter how hard he tried, Charles couldn't quite let go.
Deep down, he admired his daughter. She has the courage to marry for love, not for acceptance. While he never once regretted marrying Jessamyn, he often wondered what both of their lives would have been like if he had married Martene and she had married O'Reilly.
He continued sipping his drink, lost in thought, as the household prepared for bed.