"Boy, you got me helpless." ~Eliza Hamilton, Act One
Knock, knock.
Philip Hamilton's fist rapped on the oaken door. His other hand held an assorted mix or red roses, purple daisies, and white lilies. He stepped back as the knob turned and the door opened, and a young lady with dark olive skin, green eyes, and dark brown hair piled up onto her head in a messy but neat vertical bun with some hairs trailing out of the semi-high twirl.
"Yes?" She asked politely, gazing down at the young man with brown, curly hair.
Philip bowed, and then straightened up. "My dear Mrs. Theodosia, your husband Mr. Burr has not exaggerated on your extravagant beauty, grace, and posture. You look as young as a dewdrop, and as sweet as the nectar from these flowers here." He said gracefully and truthfully, marveling at her appearance.
A shadow quickly passed over the young woman's face before she laughed. "Do I really seem that old?" She said with a chuckle. She extended her hand out to Philip. "I'm Theodosia Jr, daughter of the two lovers of whom you speak."
Philip, shocked at his terrible mistake, looked on, agast. "I'm so sorry." He said. "My deepest apologies, young Miss Burr. I did not mean to offend you by overestimating your age; in fact, I marveled at your features." He hastily added.
Theodosia's tinkling laugh rang out into the sweet air. "Pray tell, young man, what is your name, and why do you come here?" She asked curiously.
Philip kissed her warm, dark hand with elegant, long nails. He then retreated, bowed, and quickly straightened again. "Philip Ha-"
He was interrupted.
"Why, Philip Schuyler, you look so young for having four daughters and many a son. Tell me, how are they now?" Her gaze was soft and sweet.
Philip chuckled. "Philip Hamilton, Miss. My mother is, indeed, Eliza Hamilton, and would like to inquire at the well-being of your mother, for who I have mistaken you for." He transitioned smoothly.
A cloud seemed to settle over Theodosia. "Not well." She said, dropping the flamboyant tone in her usually light-hearted voice. "She is very ill. The doctors don't know how long she will make it." Tears made a track down her soft, fragile face. Philip instinctively wiped it away with his thumb before regaining himself. "My condolences." He muttered quietly.
She straightened up. "Whatever are you doing with those beautiful flowers?" She inquired.
He looked into her deep green eyes. "They are for your mother, to wish her well."
She smiled. "She'll like them as much as I do- very much, that is." And taking the flowers, they bade each other farewell.
Over the next few weeks, Philip Hamilton brought Theodosia Sr flowers. Every time, Theodosia Jr made sure to be the one to open the door. One day, however, there was a small package outside the door. Inside was a frame with three pressed flowers- a daisy, a lily, and a rose. Theodosia closed the door with a smile and read the note. 'Theodosia, Jr.' It wrote.
She kept it close.