Even so, his letters leaped from flattery to taunts, from arrogance to insecurity, from love to despair. And in doing so, they pushed doubts into my mind such that I had to force my attention to the embroidery in my hands.
“You’ll never finish in time for the wedding if you just stare at your needle,” Peggy said from where she sprawled upon our shared bed.
I’d been working for days on a wedding gift. Once completed, the matting would form a decorative frame for a miniature portrait of my betrothed. And as I awaited Alexander’s arrival I carefully worked the needle through linen held taut by a wooden hoop. Satin stitches. Stem stitches. French knots. Each one making me think about the fact that our lives were soon to be tied together, too.
If, indeed, he would finally come for our wedding.
Almost against my will, I remembered Kitty’s words.
I doubt I’m the only lady to whom he has pleaded “but the war” . . .
I’d scarcely shaken the thought away when, at last, the clatter of hooves upon ice-covered oyster shells reached our ears. I bolted to my feet.
I wasn’t the only one. “Is he here?” one of my brothers called from across the hall. The house erupted in near pandemonium.
My family liked Hamilton. In the course of our courtship, he’d managed to win over each and every one of them. He talked finances with my father, philosophy with Angelica, Dutch traditions with Mama, war stories with my brothers, and beaus with Peggy, advising her how best to catch and keep one.
And now my siblings and I raced down the stairs to greet him, even as Prince scowled in disapproval at our lack of dignity as he opened the door.
I ought to have waited for Mama, who was pregnant again, to heave herself up from where she lay abed to come down and greet our guests. But I was far too eager. In fact, I quite nearly raced past Prince out into the blustery cold and swirling snowflakes in the open doorway, where stood two men wearing ice-crusted cloaks over blue and buff.
But only one figure gladdened my heart to bursting.
Alexander. The smile he gave me before presenting himself with a great formal bow all but erased the trepidation I’d felt moments before.
“Miss Schuyler,” he said, his satiny voice bringing back memories and making my pulse fly.
I wanted to throw my arms around the neck of my betrothed and shower him with kisses. Instead, I beamed. “Alexander.” My eyes lingered on him as long as I dared before politeness forced me to slide my gaze to his companion, who I recognized at once from Morristown. “Mac!”
At my exuberant familiarity, James McHenry grinned and doffed his cap, just as my father reached the entry hall. “Ah, Colonel Hamilton!” Papa said, coming in from the back door where he’d been making preparations in the courtyard. “You’ve joined us at last.”
“General Schuyler,” Alexander said, almost standing to attention.
Papa hung up his snow-covered coat and the large feathered hat he favored, then made his way across to us. “Welcome back to the Pastures,” he said, holding out his hand.
Alexander shook it. “Thank you, sir. General Washington sends his regards and regrets that he can’t join the celebration.” Papa’s smile broadened at being mentioned by the commander in chief. “I think you must remember my friend and colleague on General Washington’s staff, James McHenry. He’s, uh, well—he’s my guest for the wedding.”
The only one.
Tench Tilghman had sweetly and sincerely sent his best wishes and a small gift. But General Washington couldn’t spare him or any other aides-de-camp with Alexander and McHenry gone. And as for Alexander’s family, well . . .
How I loved my father for having made no issue of Alexander’s illegitimacy. And now Papa simply behaved as if all were quite normal. “Ah, McHenry, but of course. Come in. Dry off. Get warm. We’re pleased to offer every comfort during your stay.”
Thereafter Prince collected hats and cloaks, departing our merry circle, but not before instructing other servants to relieve our guests of their satchels. And having finally made her way down the stairs, Mama held her lower back and said she would see to supper.
Conversation turned to weather, war, and wine as McHenry followed Papa into his study. But Alexander quickly crossed back to me, his fierce blue eyes seeing right into the heart of me. “Betsy,” he said softly, intimately. “I want you to know that all these months, the only thing that alleviated the pain of your absence was looking forward to the moment we shall finally become each other’s forever.”