My sister’s expression softened. “She does.”
That was enough for me. After all, I would’ve run off with Alexander if only he’d permitted it, so I had a keen sense of sympathy for Peggy’s need to fly to the man she loved. And I welcomed the distraction from worrying about my husband in Congress, facing off against angry veterans.
Therefore, in the coming weeks, Angelica and I led a cautious campaign to win over our brooding parents. We exclaimed over how close Peggy would still be to the Pastures, for Van Rensselaer Manor stood just a few miles up the Hudson. And we excitedly imagined how soon it would be until Peggy began her own family, which being twenty-five already, she was ripe to do.
Unexpectedly, Mama was easily won over. In truth, she’d seemed so eager for Peggy to wed that I almost suspected, were it not for the scandal, she would have helped my sister climb out a window to run off with her betrothed, despite how angry she’d once been at Angelica for doing exactly that. And Mama was so swiftly reconciled to it that Papa behaved as if it was all done according to his wishes in the first place.
So it was that our parents welcomed Peggy home with open arms and a reception that reminded me of the one Alexander and I had on our wedding day. This time, however, I’d helped arrange the festivities, working with Mama and Dinah to set the menu, and having Jenny pull together large vases of fresh flowers from the garden to brighten every room. Once again, all of Albany’s finest families attended, as well as some of its newer arrivals, like Colonel and Mrs. Burr. And even though I delighted in catching up with Peggy, welcoming Stephen to the family, and learning the latest gossip from Theodosia, it all made me miss my husband even more, especially given all the indignities he was being made to suffer as a congressman.
Though I did not know it at the time, I’d fled Philadelphia just before our angry, unpaid soldiers seized the city arsenals and held my husband, Jemmy Madison, and the rest of Congress at bayonet point in a standoff. After that, Congress became a runaway government, fleeing from Pennsylvania, to New Jersey, then Annapolis.
All summer long, our Confederation Congress was abused, laughed at, and cursed wherever they went, and I could scarcely imagine what Alexander—who’d done as much as anyone to resolve the disputes before it led to all of this—must have been feeling. It was almost as humiliating for our fledgling country as it was frightening.
When Hamilton finally returned to me at my father’s house in August, he claimed to be done with it all. Frustrated and demoralized he said, “If the army’s mutiny didn’t convince our countrymen to replace the Articles of Confederation with a stronger government, nothing will. So, as for you and me and our baby boy, we’ll now settle into a purely domestic life.”
His proclamation suited me just fine, especially when, as the crispness of fall crept into the evening air, Peggy announced after church services that she was expecting her first child.
“Oh, we’re all to be mothers together,” I said, hugging her.
Even our little ones joined the celebration when Angelica’s son pointed at his aunt Peggy’s belly and said, “Do you have a boy in there? I hope it’s a boy!”
Peggy and I laughed. But Angelica didn’t. Mustering a forced smile, she said, “I have exciting news, too. Carter is taking me to Paris.”
I blinked. “Whatever for?”
“My husband is to be a U.S. envoy to the French government,” she said, her voice overly cheery.
“When do you leave?” Peggy asked, her hand on her still-flat stomach.
“Before winter.” Angelica sighed with a note of regret. “Months away! We’ll have plenty of time together before I go.”
But those months passed far too quickly. And when November came, I worried at the damp lace kerchief in my hands as we said our farewells. I was fearful of the dangers of Angelica’s ocean journey and pained, as I always was, to be parted from my sisters. “I’m going to miss you both more than words can say.”
“Poor Betsy,” Angelica said. “You’re taking it almost as hard as Papa.”
“How else should I take it? You’ll both be so far from me.”
“I’ll be just a short boat ride away,” Peggy said, blushing pink, as if she were quite pleased to see me weepy at the thought of parting with her. But even though Van Rensselaer Manor wasn’t far from the Pastures, Alexander and I were shortly destined for New York City, so that boat ride would require nearly a week to accomplish.