Love & War (Alex & Eliza #2)(47)

Rowena had been born in New York, she said, and intended to die here—to be buried next to her husband in Trinity Cemetery. But her loyalist past had not endeared her to the newly minted Americans who were either returning to New York or taking advantage of (relatively) inexpensive real estate to move here, which was the only way Alex and Eliza had been able to afford her. It had taken all the courage of their convictions, however, to take on someone who had, until a few weeks ago, been an enemy of the state, for all intents and purposes. Still, Eliza said finally, if a privileged couple like the Hamiltons could not practice what they preached, how on earth could they expect less fortunate Americans to do the same?

“I must say,” Eliza said, helping Alex with his coat, “she is quite pleasant. Aside from brief trips away from home, this is the first time I have ever been waited on by anyone other than the family servants, many of whom have been with us since before my birth. But Rowena has such an easy manner about her that it has been quite comfortable. I know she is a cook by training, but she is such a gifted lady’s maid that I am tempted to offer her that position when we are able to hire more servants.”

“I don’t know,” Alex said as he opened the front door and buttoned his jacket against the bright, cold December day. “The brisket she served yesterday was amazingly succulent, and those dumplings she made for breakfast? I could eat them thrice a day.”

“Mmmm,” Eliza said in agreement. “I asked her where she managed to find nutmeg and allspice in a city that hasn’t seen regular cargo ships in more than half a decade. She told me she had a network of spies that would have won General Carlton the war if he’d had access to them. I thought that was a bit cheeky of her, but if it will keep her pantry well stocked, I am more than willing to overlook a little impertinence.”

“Hear, hear,” Alex said with an arched eyebrow. “As long as she’s not sending spy messages, keep the dumplings coming.” Then he kissed his pretty wife on the nose and headed off to the office.



* * *





    ALEX HAD NO clients that first day at work—he had not expected any—but there were dozens of letters that he’d been neglecting for the past fortnight, including several from the Continental Congress and the state legislature in Albany, and though the replies were largely automatic, they were still time-consuming to answer, especially in the absence of a secretary or amanuensis. Although he had always known his value to General Washington as an assistant, he had attributed his worth to his mind—his fluency in French, his skill with bills of lading picked up on the docks of St. Croix, his ability to master currency exchanges and interest rates and, well, math.

Now he was realizing that the mere act of writing General Washington’s letters was what actually ate up the bulk of his time. But there was simply no way he could employ an assistant now. You could pay a mercer or carpenter on credit, you could compensate a servant with housing and food, but an employee required money in order to pay his own bills, and money—cold, hard cash—as opposed to the nearly bottomless credit that came with Eliza’s patrician lineage and Alex’s vaunted service to General Washington. Cash was the one thing the Hamiltons did not have.

In point of fact, no one in the newly created country had much money. Or, rather, they had too much money, but nearly all of it was worthless. Despite the United States and England being officially distinct entities, the British shilling remained in active circulation, as England’s economy was far more stable than America’s. The Continental Congress had issued its own dollars—“Continentals”—but these were nearly valueless, owing to Congress’s inability to collect taxes or duties, and were far less common than the currency issued by all thirteen of the new states, some in dollars, others in shillings. But despite the similarity in names, a Georgia shilling was worth three times a Delaware shilling, and a New Hampshire dollar could buy ten issued by the Congress. It was a vexing situation, but exactly the kind of problem that Alex’s mathematical mind liked to work on. If only there were time!

And while he did not want to admit it to himself, he was keen on securing the sort of lifestyle for his wife that she had been accustomed to all her life. He had warned her against her future as a poor man’s wife, but he did not want that future to be true. Alex remembered the look on her face when he had chosen the best glasses and china for their domicile. She will never want for anything, he promised himself. Even if I have to work myself to the bone.

His hours were consumed by letter writing, and whatever time left over was given to the review of countless new laws. For the past seven years, the thirteen states had been too busy fighting the British to worry much about the humdrum details of government. Now that the peace had been secured, however, they were making up for lost time. In the absence of a strong central government, each state was adopting its own legal systems just as it did its own currency, or perhaps adapting is the more apt word, since most of them were borrowed in large chunks from various Old World law codes. This was the new system’s only saving grace, since legislatures across the country were literally passing hundreds of laws in a single motion, and it would have been impossible to keep up with them otherwise.

Alex had studied the old codes both at King’s College before the war and during his apprenticeship in Albany the last two years, but there were hundreds of minor changes to apprise himself of, as well as the many wholly original laws that had been added to them. It was dull work, but it had to be done if he was to make an appearance in court, let alone make a living to pay all those invoices that had made their way from his satchel to his new desk (also bought on credit). Being a regimented lover of order, he might even have enjoyed sifting through the minutiae of the changes, if all the while he was poring over the pages he had not been aware that he had someone beautiful waiting for him at home. Somehow, “paperwork” had been left out of their wedding vows, but Alex was realizing just how much a part it really was . . .