Love & War (Alex & Eliza #2)(86)



“Ha! You are misremembering my experience as your own,” Eliza said, laughing. “I was such a homely girl. All elbows and frayed ends. But I think we can both agree that Peggy sailed through adolescence unscathed.”

“And landed the richest husband, too!”

The two sisters enjoyed a hearty laugh.

“Oh, Angie, I can’t believe it. You’re moving to London! With your husband and son!”

“And you live in a Wall Street town house with the most sought-after lawyer in New York City. A future, what did you call him, president? How did we become so grown-up?”

Another shared laugh, though this one was tinged with melancholy.

“I’ll miss you terribly, you know,” Angelica said at length.

“I’ll miss you more. You will have all of London—all of England, of Europe!—to discover, while I’ll be stuck here in plain old New York.”

Angelica beckoned at the rich and powerful guests thronging the two parlors and the dining room, nibbling at succulent cuts of meat and sipping strong ale or wine or whiskey.

“As if this could ever be boring! Listen to them, Eliza. They are literally planning the future of this brand-new country. Whether the United States be a democracy or a monarchy, a single country or a loose-knit confederation, whether slavery be abolished or women be granted the vote—the stage for all of it is being set right here, right now. History is happening in your house, Eliza, and you are its hostess.” She shrugged, as if embarrassed by her flight of fancy. “And you will have Mama and Papa and Peggy and John and Philip and Ren and Cornelia and little Kitty all close to hand, while I shall only have acquaintances.”

“You will have your husband’s family.”

“He has few relations, and what little he has, he doesn’t get on with. No, I will have to make some dazzling friends, or we shall have to make our own private world,” said Angelica with a smile. “Even as you and Hamilton make the larger one.”

“If he ever gets home!” Eliza said, finally giving vent to her frustration. “It’s nearly ten! I fear people will start to leave soon if their host doesn’t bother to put in an appearance.”

As if on cue, there came the sound of the front door opening. Eliza turned with a smile, only to hear a rough voice say:

“That’s all right, son, I’ll announce myself.”

The voice sounded familiar, but Eliza couldn’t quite place it. She prepared her most welcoming hostess smile, only to have it freeze on her face as a corpulent man walked into view, unbuttoning a well-made but somewhat dirty overcoat to reveal a gaudy but even more disheveled gold jacket beneath.

“Well, hello there, Lizzy,” Governor George Clinton said with a self-satisfied smack of his greasy lips, which looked as if he’d once again been snacking on a chicken leg in his carriage. “Bet you’re surprised to see me and not that lout of a husband of yours. After the furor he caused in court today, I’d be surprised if he ever shows his face in public again.”





28





Mr. and Mrs. Alexander Hamilton


   Hamilton Town House


    New York, New York


   April 1784


Alex raced down Wall Street, his black robes flapping behind him.

When Judge Smithson had announced his verdict, the courtroom erupted in pandemonium. The closing speeches by Alex and Burr seemed to have left the audience divided evenly between jeers and hisses and hurrahs and cheers.

Alex had turned to Caroline to see how she took the news. She was visibly trembling, with tears running down her face. Her hands clutched at his robe, as if to hold on for dear life. “I don’t believe it.”

He exhaled. “I did my best.”

She nodded, but clearly didn’t trust herself to speak again. And then she fainted clean away.

It took nearly half an hour to clear the room, by which time Caroline had revived but was still too woozy to be left unattended. Alex wasn’t sure what to do. Her house was nearly half a mile away. Was he to carry her through the streets?

The front door of the courtroom opened, and Aaron Burr entered. Alex stood up quickly and hurried down the aisle to keep him from getting too close to Caroline.

“Mr. Burr,” he said in a short voice, “the trial is over, and as you can see, it has been a taxing process on my client. I would ask you not to inflict any more damage upon her psyche than you already have.”

Burr waited all this out in silence. Then:

“I merely wished to inform you that I have given instructions to my driver to take you and Mrs. Childress wherever you need to go. She is obviously far too fragile to walk home.”

Alex’s jaw dropped. “Oh, I see. I, ah, feel terrible now.”

Burr offered him half a smile. “If it makes you feel any better, so do I.” He nodded at Caroline beyond them. “The law is a rather blunt instrument sometimes, and your client was lucky she had you to protect her from the worst of its blows.” He stuck out his hand. “Good evening, Mr. Hamilton. I have no doubt we will find ourselves on opposite sides again in the near future, but there is no need for the animus to become personal.”

Alex shook Burr’s hand.

“That is perhaps the first statement you’ve said in three days that I can agree with.”

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