Eliza has champagne on her breath as she speaks. "I'm so glad you could come tonight, Mr. Laurens! I know Alexander- Ooh!" A clumsy dancer bumps into her, causing her to stumble over a bit. I catch her in my arm, preventing her from falling over.
"It's no problem at all, Mrs. Hamilton," I smile at her name. I lift her straight up again and Eliza giggles, as if sharing her new last name was a secret. Her chocolate brown eyes are sparkling in the candlelight. The candles dangle above our heads, swaying oh so gently with the draft that finds its way through every crack in the Schuyler mansion.
"I should hope it wouldn't be. Thank you again, John." Eliza smiles one last time and saunters off. Her husband stands in the corner, a similar champagne flute in his head. He tips it back, his own lips pressing the lips of the glass with a graceful touch. Eliza extends her arm out, and they embrace. He kisses her forehead and she giggles like a schoolgirl. Her laugh is like tinkling bells, erupting over the regular, roaring wedding noises that float through my ears.
Angelica Schuyler, in her big peach gown, glides toward me. She is taller than me, but she is respectful of my space. She presses a hand on my shoulder. "How are you this evening, John?"
I turn to the eldest Schuyler sister, trying to come up with some lie. "I'm fine, Miss Schuyler. How are you?"
Angelica's gaze turns hard. "We both know you aren't fine, Mr. Laurens."