October 1777
The first thing she had noticed about the head of intelligence were his eyes. A bright blue, which suggested a naivety that was in direct contrast with his job as a spy. He was pretty, with soft features, tall and lean. Though, there was a sharpness behind his eyes that betrayed a depth to him.
"Major Tallmadge, this is Miss Teresa Alcoff," Washington introduced, "Her father owns the largest newspaper in Albany. She's to stay here and act as a correspondent to report on the war."
"It's lovely to meet you Major," she said, holding out her hand towards him, which he lifted up to his mouth to press a kiss to her knuckles
"I look forward to reading your reports."
"Thank you." She nodded, smiling sweetly at him, taking back the hand which he was still holding, "Would you like to show me around the camp, Major?"
"Well, there isn't a whole lot to see," he replied, but held out his arm to her none the less, "But if you wish."
The major proceeded to take her outside, leading her around the camp, pointing out various parts and explaining them to her. In most conversations with men she had always nodded when necessary, smiled when appropriate, and feigned interest in whatever dull topic the man thought to impress her with. To them, her only purpose was to hang off their arm as a pretty ornament. Her and her sisters had always been the pick of the bunch due to their 'exotic' beauty. Tessa in particular, having inherited her mother's curly black hair, olive skin that juxtaposed greatly with her father's hazel eyes.
There had only been one man to truly peek her interest, and to pay an interest to her ideas in turn. Until now.
"You like horses?" She asked, causing him to frown in confusion, "Your eyes lit up when you mentioned horses, and you are the head of a calvary battalion." She explained, "I just put two and two together."
"Yes, I do like horses." He said, obviously impressed by her, "Do you, Miss Alcott?"
"Riding has always been a passion of mine." She said, "And please, call me Tessa."
"Isn't that a bit informal?" He asked, "I don't think propriety suggests a woman to allow a man she just met to call her by her first name." He noted, "And you seem to me to be a proper lady."
"Formalities are a woman's defence against unwanted advances," she replied, "Since that is not the case here, I would impress informality upon you if you wish to get to know me more."
"Then, I would like for you to call me Benjamin."
"Perhaps I will, or perhaps I won't." She shrugged, letting go of his arm, stepping away from him, "Thank you for the tour, Major."