Alex and Eliza: A Love Story(41)
Eliza nodded and turned back to Angelica. “When?”
“I am meeting him tonight! I think he means to propose!”
“And you will accept him?”
Angelica only smiled.
“But how will you get Papa to consent? He thinks Mr. Church to be a scoundrel and a knave.”
“Scoundrel and knave are redundant, but thank you for the vote of confidence,” Angelica said drolly.
“And Mama has made it clear she believes the continuing source of his wealth to be suspicious, if not altogether ill-gotten!”
“That hurdle, at least, has been cleared. John’s business is stable and doing rather well,” said Angelica.
“—the revenue for the farms amounts to some ten thousand shillings, which comes to approximately one hundred thousand Continentals—” droned Stephen.
“And what is John’s business?” Eliza asked. “He has always been rather mysterious about his affairs.”
“It is rather exciting,” Angelica said. “He ‘runs guns.’”
“Runs them? Like an infantryman?”
“No. It is a euphemism for arms dealing. He procures weapons from French and German munitions manufacturers and sells them to—”
“The redcoats? But that’s horrible! He is helping our enemy!”
“Eliza! Do you think I could align myself with a redcoat or a sympathizer? He sells weapons to the Continental army. That’s why he has to be so quiet about it. He is still a British citizen, after all. If he were to get caught, he would be stripped of his citizenship at the very least, and more likely executed as a traitor,” said Angelica, quite indignant.
“Oh!” Eliza exclaimed. “That is romantic. And patriotic. Well, not patriotic for him, I suppose, if he remains British. Why doesn’t he become an American?”
Angelica shrugged. “He says he admires America greatly, but that he cannot help being British to the core. He would like to introduce our reforms to England—to reduce the power of the crown and see Parliament become more democratic. He says the Old World can learn much from the New, and must learn, or it will be left behind.”
Eliza absorbed all this with some surprise. So that was why John Church was always so vague in conversation. But now she understood—he was protecting himself and his interests. It explained Angelica’s interest in him, too. She had assumed that her headstrong older sister was attracted to John simply because he was everything their parents despised—which was fine for an adolescent crush, but didn’t explain the endurance of the attraction over several years. But now she realized that her sister had fallen in love with a man of principle. She wished he was a handsomer fellow, to match Angelica’s beauty, but looks fade, after all, and intelligence and character are what sustain a relationship.
“Oh, Angelica, this is so exciting! Church is on his way! How romantic! If Mama approves, I’m sure she’ll be able to wear Papa down.”
Angelica shrugged, as if the blessing of their parents were of little concern to her. “Papa will do what he wants to do. And so will I.”
“You wicked girl!” Eliza said, scandalized and titillated at the same time.
At that moment a heavy round of footsteps landed on the front porch. Ulysses opened the front door to a jocular crowd of men streaming in, pulling off their coats and hats and dumping them into the servant girl’s thin brown arms.
“Girls—our guests!” Aunt Gertrude said to the Schuyler sisters. “The officers have arrived!”
18
Goose Is Cooked?
Cochran Dinner Table
Morristown, New Jersey
February 1780
Dr. Cochran sharpened the carving knife and fork high in the air over a crispy brown duck while the rest of the table looked on. “My word, Dr. Bones,” the marquis said in a teasing voice, “from the way you are sharpening that knife, one would think you are preparing to operate on General Washington himself. By all means, proceed!”
Alex sat back, downright jolly. It had been a long week, and at last, after haunting her window and missing opportunities to see her at headquarters, where she had been near but so far, he was finally in the same place as Eliza Schuyler. His generous hostess had even seen to it that he was seated next to her lovely niece. Alex hoped dinner would go on until the wee hours as was custom lately; there was nowhere else he would rather be than at the Cochran dinner table. He smiled as the servants set a variety of savory dishes before the guests. There were three large courses with duck and venison roasts to be carved, with jellies, dried fruits and nuts served alongside. An endless pile of fresh oysters from the Hudson River was set in front of each officer.
Laughter ricocheted from every table, as Louisa raced around the room, filling and refilling the wine glasses. Across from him, Laurens and Lafayette spoke animatedly in bawdy, good-humored French. Alex looked fondly at his fellow aides-de-camp. It was good to see them so relaxed.
He turned to his right, stealing a glimpse of Eliza, ravishing in the candlelight. He watched as she leaned in to catch wisps of what French she could figure out. Fluent in the language from his childhood in the West Indies, Alex was charmed by her struggle to understand the officers’ racier phrases as she strove to translate them. A good student, he smiled, as he absentmindedly scratched the last of the rash on his wrist left over from the inoculation she’d given him.