Love & War (Alex & Eliza #2)(74)

“Oh, for heaven’s sake!” Helena snatched a leaf and popped it into her mouth. She chewed, swallowed. “See? Not paper. Lettuce. I told you. It’s a gift from Jane Beekman. Her parents’ greenhouse is apparently as balmy as the tropics. They grow green vegetables all the year round. Try it,” she insisted, pushing a head toward them.

Eliza looked at Angelica and Mr. Earl to see if either of them would volunteer. Both shrank from the table. Well, Eliza supposed, it was up to her. “I got a taste of an orange from Jane’s greenhouse the other day,” she said.

Nervously, she reached out and pulled a small piece from a leaf. It certainly felt real. Tender, slightly damp, with a bit of a crunch as it ripped free. She took a breath, then tossed it in her mouth. She expected some kind of rancid taste, as when, as a little girl, she had licked a painting of cake, thinking it would taste like frosting, only to have it taste like paint smells. But this tasted like . . . lettuce.

“Remarkable!” she after a moment. “It really is lettuce.” She tore off another piece. She turned to her sister and the artist. “You must try it!”

“Delectable!” the artist crooned.

“Oh!” Angelica said. “I don’t think I’ve had a green vegetable since September. Just soft potatoes and mealy apples and squash. This is divine! I feel my complexion brightening and my bones growing straighter! What a miracle!”

“Helena,” Eliza said, stuffing her mouth with the green goodness. “I would marry you if I weren’t already married.”

“And if she weren’t a woman,” Angelica said with a laugh.

“A technicality. I would find a way around it. This really is wonderful. It makes me long for spring’s full arrival.”

“Now, now, don’t eat it at all,” Helena said, laughing, as they reached for a second head. “Save some for Mr. Hamilton.”

“Mr. Hamilton can fend for himself,” Eliza said, but she stopped herself from digging into the second head, and swatted Mr. Earl’s hand away when he reached for it.

“Mmmm, how did that go last night?” Angelica said. “You seemed rather upset with him.”

“Oh, he was suitably apologetic, after I finally got him to admit that he had forgotten to inform me that Mr. Earl was coming to stay with us, and that your and John’s arrival was imminent. It behooves me to remember that he is doing the jobs of five different men at present, and I need to be understanding.”

“And what are you, a hat tree in the foyer?” Helena laughed. “There when he needs you, forgotten when he doesn’t? I told John when he proposed to me: I would rather spend my life with a cabbage farmer in some godforsaken place like Easthampton or, or Ohio than with a man who neglects me.”

“But, Helena,” Eliza said. “It falls to the men to work outside of the home and to provide for their womenfolk.”

“And whose fault is that?” Helena retorted. “No one’s but their own. Why, would you feel sympathy when your jailor complained about the long hours he spent guarding you? Of course not. You would tell him to release you, and then you could both get a good night’s sleep.”

“Hear, hear!” Earl said, once again reaching for the lettuce. Eliza snatched the basket away and folded the cloth covering over it.

“Surely you are not suggesting that women could do the same work as men?”

“Suggesting it?” Helena said. “Of course not. I am stating it as absolute fact. Why, many’s the time I’ve looked over John’s account books and spotted some error or other he missed.”

“Well, I’ve looked over Alex’s court papers on a few occasions but I’m afraid I’m not much help in that department.”

“But did you train as lawyer?” Helena asked. “Did you clerk at court? Did you go to college even? I’m betting you did not. I’m guessing that you and Angelica and Peggy were educated just like me and my sisters: at our mother’s knee, in the schoolroom at home. And after everyone had learned the basics of reading and writing and sums, the boys went on to science and history and philosophy while you had a needle and thread stuck in your hand, or a bow and arrow—but a dainty one, not one that you could use on the field of war—or perhaps a pianoforte.”

“What on earth is wrong with playing the pianoforte?” Eliza asked.

“Nothing,” Helena said. “But it won’t exactly help you solve the problem of paying for a standing militia without a federal tax program, or correcting our trade imbalance with France.”

“Well!” Angelica exclaimed with a laugh. “Our little Helena is one of Mr. Locke’s rationalist empiricists, or whatever they’re called.”

“I don’t even know who Mr. Locke is, let alone a rational whatchamacallit. My observations are based on what I see with my own two eyes. Speaking of which,” Helena interrupted herself. “Angelica and I really should be off. I’ve promised to take her to my tailor to get some dresses made for her journey. Angelica’s garments are far too American to wear in Europe.”

“Imagine if a man had to spend half as much time on his appearance as we do,” Angelica said as she followed Helena to the wardrobe in the hall, where she retrieved her coat.

“They would not start half the wars they do,” Eliza joked.