My idea came when I’d awakened one night to discover the bed cold beside me and Alexander hunched over his desk, writing furiously in the light of a single candle. “What are you working on?” I’d asked, laying my hands upon his shoulders.
He’d eased back into my touch, pulling my hand to that sensuous mouth and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. “I’ve been appointed chairman of peace arrangements. I’m to provide a system for foreign affairs, Indian affairs, a peacetime army, and naval establishments.”
“Oh, is that all?”
He peered up at me with a weary chuckle. “Well, and also to help pacify the army—who would like, at long last, to be paid. One can scarcely blame them for being on the verge of uprising against Congress.” He shook his head, especially since he’d given up his own soldier’s pay for fear of appearing self-interested in the matter. “But what has pulled you from bed at this hour?”
“In truth, thinking about all you’re trying to accomplish here.”
He frowned. “I don’t wish my duties to disturb your peace of mind, my sweet girl.”
I wanted to be more than a sweet girl to him, which was why I blurted, “Perhaps you can get more done if you conduct negotiations in private.”
His brows raised over those blue eyes. “Something you learned watching your father at Indian conventions?”
I nodded, hoping he wouldn’t discount those experiences. “If those who stand against you in Congress don’t realize the extent of your alliance with Mr. Madison, they’ll be less prepared to thwart you. If you make your strategies behind closed doors, you can take your foes unawares on the Congress floor.”
His eyes narrowed with appreciation. “You are a general’s daughter,” he said approvingly, taking me back to bed.
I shook my head and helped him lift my shift. “I’m a congressman’s wife.”
“Yes, you are,” he said as he covered my body with his. And after bringing us together, he jested, “Perhaps I should recommend you for appointment for the New York delegation. You have more passion for it than those who actually hold the posts and who worry more about their own individual welfare than the common good.”
His compliment pleased me, but even more satisfying was that Alexander took my advice.
Which was how, a few days later, I came to be standing in a darkened kitchen of the house we’d rented near Independence Hall with my fussing one-year-old son on my shoulder, and a nervous Virginia congressman stomping snow off his boots by my hearth. “Colonel Hamilton will be home shortly,” I said, taking Madison’s snowy coat and hanging it upon a peg. “Can I offer you some hot tea?”
“Oh, no, thank you,” Madison said softly, eyeing the little boy in my arms. “You have your hands quite occupied with young Master Hamilton. I couldn’t trouble you to serve me.” Perhaps because Madison was the owner of a vast plantation with many slaves, he seemed overly aware that we kept no servant with us—the work of caring for the baby and keeping our little household entirely mine. “It’s trouble enough that I’m dropping in on you so late.”
“Nonsense. You’re always most welcome, Mr. Madison,” I said, wanting to put the congressman at ease, and taking more than a bit of pride in the modest feast I’d managed to keep warm. Beef tongue, peas, and potatoes in an herbed butter sauce. “Some wine at least?” I offered, leading him to the dining room, where the drapes were pulled tight against prying eyes from the street.
“Yes, thank you,” Madison said, but as I began to pour, my discontented son kicked his feet, nearly toppling the glasses.
“Careful little man!” Madison cried, catching Philip playfully by the toes. And when my son giggled, the congressman smiled and held out his hands. “May I?”
Surprised at Madison’s change in demeanor—for though there was often kindness in his eyes, the soft-spoken congressman rarely smiled—I surrendered my babe into his arms. “You must be a father, Mr. Madison.”
“Unfortunately, no,” the man replied wistfully. “I’m a confirmed bachelor, as fate would have it, but children take to me.” And it was true. While I poured wine, Madison whispered something into Philip’s ear that made him laugh and laugh.
“Whatever did you say to him?” I asked.
“I’m afraid it’s a secret,” Madison replied, bouncing my son in his arms. “Between gentlemen.”