I, Eliza Hamilton. Susan Holloway Scott

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      CHAPTER 4

      I attended that first assembly not with my aunt and uncle, but with a friend, Kitty Livingston. Kitty had persuaded (or more likely begged) her father to take a house in Morristown while the army was encamped there, even though their home of Liberty Hall was only twenty miles away in Elizabethtown. Kitty was only an acquaintance, but a distant cousin in the way of so many of us from New York, and I was delighted that she was in town for the winter, too.

      That night we rode together with her parents in the second bench of their sleigh, our evening finery bundled beneath thick furs as we traveled across the wintery roads. We wore quilted silk petticoats beneath our gowns, and at our feet we each had a carved oak foot warmer filled with hot coals. The skies were overcast, and we all prayed the next snowstorm—for so it seemed inevitable that one would come—would hold until after the assembly. The sleigh’s lanterns cast their wavering light across the snow banks on either side, and the tiny brass bells on the team’s harnesses rang merrily in the cold night air.

      Sharing my excitement, Kitty grinned at me, and snuggled a little closer both for warmth and in confidence. She was quick and lively and flirtatious in company, one of three sisters as was I, and always the first with fresh news from everyone and everywhere. I soon learned, however, that for the first time I was the center of tonight’s fresh gossip.

      “So tell me, Eliza,” she said softly in a near whisper that her parents wouldn’t overhear, our conversation further shrouded by the fur-edged hoods of our cloaks. “How is it that all the talk in the town and the camp is of you and Colonel Hamilton?”

      “Then this place must be tedious indeed, if that is the best talk it can muster,” I said, surprised. “Colonel Hamilton and I have supplied very little to your mill for tattle, Kitty.”

      “I’ve heard otherwise,” she said. “In fact I’ve heard of little else.”

      I frowned, my hands twisting uneasily inside my muff. I didn’t like being spoken of, especially since I suspected most of what was being said was embellished, if not outright tales. All I could do was hope to correct Kitty, a vain hope though it might be.

      “Colonel Hamilton has called upon me at Dr. Campfield’s house in the evening,” I began, “and I’ve received him in the crowded company of my aunt and uncle as well as the Campfields. He has their approval, and my father considers him a worthy gentleman, too. Colonel Hamilton and I have walked together in the town, with my aunt ten paces behind us, and he and I have exchanged greetings in passing as he went about his duties near the headquarters. Oh, and he joined me at Sunday worship.”

      “Sunday worship?” she repeated, her voice rising in teasing disbelief. “Hamilton? I vow he’s never seen the inside of a church, the wicked heathen.”

      “He did come with me,” I insisted, “and it was by his own initiative, too. That’s all that’s happened between us, Kitty. There could hardly be anything less scandalous.”

      I wasn’t exaggerating. Alexander’s regard toward me had been so decorous and proper that, in the telling, it must have sounded almost boring, and without even a flicker of scandal. Yes, there had been times when I’d felt sure he was going to kiss me, but at the last moment he’d held back: he was that intent on proving himself worthy of me.

      And to be entirely honest, I rather wished he hadn’t. An honorable gentleman was all well and good, but if he’d shown me a bit—just a bit—of the rakish gallant that I sensed was within him, I wouldn’t have objected. I wanted him to kiss me, because I wanted very much to kiss him.

      But clearly Kitty didn’t believe me, and smothered her laughter behind her gloved hand.

      “Hardly less scandalous, Eliza,” she whispered, “and perhaps infinitely more. You can’t play the innocent with me, especially not when your dalliance is with Colonel Hamilton. Recall that he’s long been an acquaintance of mine, and that we have no secrets between us.”

      “I assure you, there aren’t any secrets for him to share,” I protested, painfully aware of how she might indeed know more of him than I did. Kitty and Alexander had in fact been friends for years. When he had first arrived as a youth in our colonies from Nevis, he had attended Elizabethtown Academy in New Jersey, where he’d boarded with the Livingston family. To hear Kitty tell it (which of course she’d made sure I had), the schoolboy Alexander had been thoroughly moonstruck over her, yet she’d deftly turned his infatuation into a friendship.

      “No secrets, no.” Kitty paused now for emphasis, her upper teeth pressing lightly into her lower lip in a way that was unique to her, as if biting back what she’d say next. “No secrets, because where you are concerned, Colonel Hamilton cannot keep them. He wears his heart like another medal pinned to his coat, there for anyone who wishes to see how the name Elizabeth is engraved upon it.”

      “Hush, Kitty,” I said, uneasy with her overblown foolishness.

      “Then let me tell you this, Eliza,” she said, leaning closer. “You know how the officers are in the habit of having supper together, and how after the cloth is drawn, they will sit for hours drinking and toasting until they tumble into their cups, and their menservants must come claim them.”

      “What of it?” I said warily. Such behavior among gentlemen was hardly unknown to me; my father’s entertainments for his friends were often like this.

      “What of it?” she repeated, unable to keep the triumph from her whisper. “Because I have it on the best advice that when the officers take their turns with a toast for each wife and sweetheart, our dear friend Hamilton raises his glass to you by name, and all the other gentlemen follow.”

      I listened, stunned. Having my name toasted in the officers’ quarters would not please my aunt, but I found it undeniably thrilling to think that Alexander Hamilton would toast me as his sweetheart.

      “You are sure of this?” I asked eagerly. “You know it for fact?”

      “I wouldn’t tell you if it weren’t so,” she said. “We both know that Colonel Hamilton has left half the women in New Jersey СКАЧАТЬ