Alexander,
Thank you again for the stationery set. It's beautiful. Do you know that I've never written an honest-to-god letter in my life? I feel like an antebellum Southern belle writing to Rhett Butler. Have you ever read Gone With the Wind? I bet you haven't. You should, though. Eliza loves the movie. I'm sure you already know that.
What am I supposed to write in a letter, anyway? Anita is still crazy. Church is still clingy. Taz still chews up anything that I leave in the living room past midnight. I miss you and Eliza constantly.
From,
Angelica
Ever lovely Angelica,
Don't you know that you're supposed to address a letter by describing your relationship to somebody? Instead of plain old Alexander, you could say "my dear Alexander," or "my plain old Alexander," if that's really how you feel. For an antebellum Southern belle, you're shockingly devoid of sentiment.
I have read Gone With the Wind. You might be surprised to read that I enjoyed it. I'll bet you did, too. You remind me of Scarlett O'Hara in a lot of ways. Not so much in the childish, coquettish way (though I'm sure Jefferson & co. would disagree), but very much in the stubborn and resilient way. You wouldn't let the Yankees take Tara, either. Who would I be? Don't say Rhett Butler, because I know you won't mean it.
I'm watching your interview with that ancient member of Parliament while I write this. You're wearing that dress that you wore the night that we went to that terrible waffle restaurant that Peggy was dying to try. Do you remember Betsey burning her hair that night? She's still mortified. She swears every single week that she's going to mail you your hat back. I think that you ought to buy a new one.
Have you heard back from any of the places you've applied to in the States? I would love it if you came back to New York. Or even Washington DC. It's only a couple of hours away. George makes the trip all of the time. Hey! If you got the job, you could interview him. Maybe you could even interview his dashing assistant from time to time. More importantly, you could have dinner with Betsey and me from time to time. She's half-frantic with the thought of seeing you every week.
Meanwhile, I'm half-frantic as we prepare to address the drought. Did you know that we're experiencing a drought? Well, we are, and George has placed me in charge of writing his speech for his town hall meeting. I know it doesn't matter in the grand scheme; it only matters what the president says, but suppose the president heard my speech and decided to hire me? Or even just the Governor? But no, on second thought, maybe not the governor. I don't like Clinton very much. More importantly, he doesn't like ME very much.
Have you heard that Jefferson is being considered for the ambassador to France? Ambassador! He would be one of the youngest ambassadors in history! I'm sure he's already bragged to you. He hardly needs the ego boost. Between you and me, I hope that he gets passed over for the promotion. John Laurens is also being considered. He's well-versed in French and has all the right connections. Lafayette is trying his best to remain neutral, but hopefully, when the French Prime Minister asks, he will promote Laurens.
But Eliza is calling me for dinner. She's made something or the other from that cookbook you gave her. Duck. I'm not one for duck, but I'm sure she will change my mind.
Until next time,
Alexander
PS. "from"? You wound me, Annie.
To the best speech writer across the sea,
I had Eliza send me a copy of your draught speech. As they say "across the pond," well done, you! I'm sure the grubby people of New York have all the faith in the world in George, as I do. I know that there could be no better man for the job, save his extremely talented speech writer. What other things do you do for George? I know you. You couldn't possibly be satisfied with only writing town hall speeches. I've read a few of his most recent bill propositions, and if I'm not mistaken, the tone sounded remarkably like your own.
Stop worrying about Thomas. He doesn't think that he'll be appointed to France, and neither do I. Laurens has the better connections and has actually graduated. Thomas still has term papers and final exams to worry about. Speaking of, how are your classes? You're just about finished, aren't you? I'm sorry that I can't come home for your graduation. Please send me pictures of you in your cap and gown, and tell me if Martha cries. I'll bet Martha cries. Are you going to be the valedictorian? Without me there, you might actually stand a chance. If you are, you must also send me your speech. You've seen the mediocrity I've surrounded myself with at work. Yours and Thomas' are the only intelligent words I get anymore.
Why don't you think that you would be Rhett Butler? I can't think of a single better character for you! You're just like Rhett, really. Charismatic and just the right amount of scandalous. Just stay out of Charleston if you can.
I've received a job offer from my current station, and - don't hate me - I think I'm going to take it. It means staying in Oxford for another few years, but the pay is good and it'll be so much easier to get a job when I actually have something on my resume.
Not to mention, I now have a wedding to afford. Do you know how expensive weddings are? And how much time it takes to plan one? Church thinks that he's doing me a favor by staying out of it, telling me to plan exactly what he wants, but I think he's just being lazy. He doesn't want to sift through 300 different styles of invitations, or spend an entire Saturday looking for the perfect flower arrangement. To be truthful, I don't blame him. If the traditional convention would get me off of the hook for all of this, I would gladly embrace it, too. When you get married, I insist that you help plan the entire thing. Don't be the lazy man. She'll resent you for it.
Anyway, I should go. The wedding planner (who is named Jane and has been sent to this Earth for the sole purpose of torturing me)is calling for the 14th time today. No, that is not a hyperbole. She calls me an average of 25 times a day. I may strangle her before what she calls "The Big Day." Until then, I must answer the phone and pretend to be interested in the kind of chairs that will be at my reception.
Your favorite sister (sort-of),
Angelica
Ever suffering Angelica,
I'm sorry to hear about your wedding planner, but I would be lying if I said that the vision of a tiny wedding planner swarming around you like a nat didn't make me laugh. But to justify your pain and suffering, I have told Eliza that we have to take special notice of the chairs at the reception and the flower arrangements. I expect them to be beyond comparison.
Did you hear that Laurens got the appointment? I'm thrilled for him. We're going to celebrate in just a moment. Jefferson and Madison are pointedly NOT invited. Well, Madison can come. But we'll make him drink gin and tonics. Do you know that I think about that night in Philadelphia at least once a day?
I knew that you would call me Rhett Butler. Such accusations wound me, for if I ever got my Scarlett O'Hara, I would never walk away. Never. Not even if she continued to carry on lusting after Ashley Wilkes, who I hate, by the way. Not just on the principle that I'm apparently Rhett Butler, but because Ashley Wilkes was possibly the worst male character but was given credit for being one of the most likable. He toyed with both his wife and dear Scarlett, only to leave them both sorely aching. And a son, too! A fine mess for a fine coward. He could have been happy with either his wife or Scarlett, but he had to have both at the expense to both women.
As for your contract in Oxford, I'm happy that you've been given the opportunity and will, of course, attend the wedding ceremony in Oxford just as willingly as I would attend one in Albany. Eliza and I do miss you terribly, though. I miss you especially. I've yet to find anyone whose company is equitable to yours.
I will be graduating in 20 days. Count it - 20 days. Can you believe it? Next up is law school. I've been accepted to both Georgetown and Columbia, but I think I will be going to Georgetown. George spends most of his time in D.C. anyway, so I can stay at his D.C. residence. Martha won't be happy about losing our weekly dinners, but she'll be glad to have me there to keep an eye on George. What she thinks he's going to do in her absence, I'm not sure, but I'm happy to provide her with peace of mind.
Off to celebrate our newest ambassador to France!
Yours,
Alexander
Dearest Alexander,
I am so sorry to hear about John Laurens. He was a wonderful man and an incomparable friend. I'm sure that you are lost without him.
His death was not your fault. No one could have anticipated that a common bar fight would result in homicide. I know you, and I know your tendency to take responsibility for everything you lay witness to, even things that are out of the control of mortal beings like you and I. John would not want that. He would want you to go on to Georgetown and pass with flying colors. He would want you to pursue a career in politics, in which you fight for the regulation of firearms, as you've been talking about doing since senior year of high school.
You and John are both in my thoughts and prayers.
Love,
Angelica
Dearest Alexander,
Eliza has just informed me that you are no longer planning to attend your graduation ceremony - despite being the class valedictorian - because of John Laurens.
You must stop tearing yourself apart over John Laurens. It wasn't your fault, Alexander. John instigated the fight. He didn't know that the guy had a gun, and neither did you. Nobody could have foreseen the man pulling out a gun in the middle of an Albany pub and shooting anyone.
Forgive yourself. John would have.
Love,
Angelica
Alexander,
I'm worried. Please write me back.
Love,
Angelica
My dearest Angelica,
I apologize for the lack of contact for so long. As you can imagine, I needed time to process what happened. Though I'm sure Betsey told you what she knows about the situation, I could not bring myself to burden her with all of the details. I hope that you won't read too much into me sharing such details with you. You can handle it. You have grit. I admire that about you.
Here's what happened.
John chose the pub. It was a little hole in the wall that his father had taken him to for his first beer. He thought it was only right that he go there just before his first big job. At first, it was great. We were eating, drinking, and making a list of all of the sights he would have to see in France when someone started mouthing off in the pub. They were talking about politics. Complaining about George, and complaining about Henry. John made a snide comment in response, and from there, a fight broke out. I should have told him to calm down. I didn't. I made it so much worse. The guy got close - real close - to John, and I acted without thinking. I punched him in the face and started the whole fight. If it hadn't been for me, he would still be here today.
I know that you're not going to accept that, but it's the truth. I would appreciate it if you didn't argue with me on that point.
In exchange for your cooperation, I'll tell you something that I haven't told anyone else yet. In my speech at graduation, I'm going to ask Eliza to marry me.
I wanted to tell you first because I know that I promised you a similar proposal so many years ago. I didn't want you to think that I wasn't creative; that I was being lazy in my plan to propose to Betsey. It's just…it seems to be the only proposal fitting of a Schuyler sister, you know? The whole lot of you are larger than life. I didn't want you to think that I was trying to upstage you and Church, either. We will, of course, wait until your wedding before we get married. And before you even ask - yes. I will absolutely help Eliza with the wedding planning. Even if it takes all day to decide on chairs.
I miss you terribly, especially these days.
Yours,
Alexander
My dearest Alexander,
Congratulations! I just got off the phone with Eliza. By the time you receive this, you'll have been engaged for a little longer than an hour, but as I'm writing this, it's still fresh and new.
You shouldn't have worried about justifying the engagement or the way it was done to me. First of all, proposing during a valedictorian speech is a great idea. You shouldn't let it go to waste. I'm sure Eliza loved it. Second, I would never accuse Eliza of trying to upstage anyone. Now you, on the other hand…
I'm kidding, of course. I'm so happy for the both of you.
I won't argue with you over John (only because you already know perfectly well what I would say), but I will assure you that you don't need to explain why you gave me details that you did not give Eliza. Your secret is safe with me. As are any other things you want to confide in me.
How are you feeling? And remember, you can be honest with me. I will never judge you.
Love,
Angelica
My dearest Angelica,
I just got your wedding invitation. My RSVP (along with Betsey's) is enclosed in this envelope. As I'm sure you already know, we'd be happy to go. And Betsey would be hard-pressed to avoid it, seeing as she's your maid of honor. Should I be offended that I'm not Church's best man? Who is Church's best man? Anyone I know? Please tell me that it isn't Jefferson. If it's Jefferson, I rescind my RSVP. Kind of.
Betsey has asked me to request that you send over your wedding binder at your convenience. I have no idea what a wedding binder is, but I assure you that I will do my best to learn once you send it over. Betsey's already got me set up with a Pinterest account. We have a shared "Wedding Board." She keeps "pinning" things involving mason jars. Does your wedding revolve around mason jars? I don't understand it.
After Betsey and I's wedding, we have to start George's next campaign for Congress. Did you know that Thomas is considering running for Governor of Virginia? Governor! He's fresh out of undergrad and he thinks that he's suitable for Governor! And his father is going along with it. His father is actually stepping down as Governor so that Thomas can run. All because the man didn't get the ambassador to France!
Do you think that I'm wasting my time, not running for anything? George has spoken to me about the possibility a couple of times, but I don't enjoy politics the way that both George and Jefferson seem to. I just want to do my work. Can't I just accomplish the things I want to do while others play the game of politics?
Yours,
Alexander
My dearest Alexander,
I would send Eliza my wedding binder, but it's still being used at the moment. Can she wait just a little bit longer? I haven't gotten a save-the-date, so I'm assuming that it's not a pressing matter. And because I am not supplying a wedding binder just yet, I feel obligated to explain one to you. It's a binder that contains all of the information one needs for their wedding. A budget, floral arrangements, caterer options - you name it, the binder has it. Except for maybe a guest list. Eliza and I run in very different social circles.
As for the mason jars…well…that's just Eliza. And Pinterest. Maybe try to get her off of Pinterest when you have a moment. And DO NOT let her hire a band with a banjo player for the reception.
Church's best man is one of his cousins. Tom will be invited to the wedding, though. After he and I have a very long talk about the "forever hold your peace" moment, that is. It would be just like him to ruin my wedding without having any sort of plan about what he would do the moment it was over. I know that he wouldn't want a serious relationship. He would just want to be a drama queen. I think he's bringing a date to the wedding, actually. Some girl that he's been seeing on-and-off in college. Aaron Burr will also be in attendance, as well as James Madison and anyone else from our graduating class who has the money to fly to London.
Tom has told me all about his campaign for Governor. Did you know that Madison is in Congress? I'm sure that you do. It sounds like he and George work together closely a lot. That must be driving you crazy. Anyway, from the sound of it, Tom has a pretty good chance of getting Governor. He is a legacy, after all. And who else could possibly replace his father? But that shouldn't bother you. At least you don't live in Virginia.
And you should definitely not feel obligated to run for anything. Some people don't have the temperament for politics. That's fine. You can let George have his campaigns and you can write the speeches and advise him on what should be done. You can change the world without playing politics. If anyone can change the world, in fact, it is most certainly you, Alexander Hamilton.
Love, Angelica
My dearest Angelica,
Today, George approached Betsey and me with an idea. He wants to run for president, Annie. PRESIDENT. Of the entire country! Obviously, he'll have to run out his newest term as a Congressman. After that, he wants to get to be Speaker of the House. From there, it's down the campaign trail. The only downside is that he's considering John Adams as his Vice President. Better than Thomas Jefferson, I suppose, but only barely.
I'm missing you especially much today. George is making me go to some networking event with him. If you were here, you could go with me and make fun of all of the stuck up, snooty people. I could actually eat something here instead of having George parade me around the party like a show dog. I don't have fun with anyone the way that I have fun with you. The stares I always got when I showed up somewhere with you were an added bonus.
Missing you more and more each day is
Yours,
Alexander
My dearest Alexander,
President! Wow! That's a really big leap. Although I suppose if it's contingent on George becoming the speaker of the house, he still has time to strategize. Do you know how he's going to get to be speaker? Who's the current speaker? I've fallen behind on American politics. You'll have to forgive me. I've spent the past four years trying to learn this wonky Parliamentary system.
At any rate, would you be working with George when he became president? You already get enough coverage as a Congressman's aide. Granted, it isn't front-page tabloid kind of news, but it's in all of the minor gossip rags in the tristate area. I google your name every day once in a while. I like to make sure you're staying scandal-free. If George gets to be president, though, you're going to be subjected to so much more scrutiny. That means you better be treating my sister right. Well, that should go without saying. If you don't, I'll cross the ocean just to kick your butt clear across it.
I miss you at parties too. Every time I have to suffer through a news station get-together, I wish that I had someone there to judge everyone else with. You and I were always great at judging others. Perhaps we overlooked a career in the judicial branch? Well, I suppose you're in law school, so you have that part covered. Me…maybe I should consider law school, too. Although, quite frankly, I'm newly out of school and already enjoying it so much. Homework-free evenings are the greatest.
Church and I just received your "Save the Dates" for the wedding. Am I to assume that the rehearsal dinner will take place the night before? Either way, I'm planning on arriving a week before the wedding, just to avoid any possible issues. Church won't be able to make it until two days before the wedding, but that's hardly a problem. We'll find some kind of way to pass the time. You know, ever since you mentioned Madison and gin and tonics, I've thought about that night in Philadelphia when we all let Aaron Burr lead us to that terrible bar. Do you remember that? Probably not. I remember bits and pieces, but that's it. We should go out for Tex-Mex while I'm in the States, though. Relive the glory days. Maybe we could even get the gang back together! What do you think?
Love,
Angelica
My dearest Angelica,
Though I only ever intend to treat Betsey as well as she deserves, the temptation of you returning to the States early is nearly overwhelming, even if it is only to beat me up (which no one doubts you can do). Would an argument about Mason Jars qualify as treating her badly? If so, I would be happy to buy you a flight to New York right this moment. I'll even pick you up from the airport. Just give me a moment to look at you before you attack me, would you? I feel like it's been years since I've last seen you. I watch your newscast every day during my lunch break (a generous half an hour, courtesy of George), but it isn't the same. Your smile isn't real. It's fake. It looks like Anita is holding you hostage in front of a camera. I want to see that real, genuine Annie Schuyler smile.
I would love it if you would consider law school, though, by the time you arrived, I would be on my way out. If not to join me in my studies, I'd recommend that you save your time, money, and sanity. You would hate law school. People can be so infuriatingly competitive, but only the people without any real brains. The people with brains keep to themselves because they're terrified that the competitive ones will find out about them. The professors are all full of themselves and the workload is damn near unbearable. You're far better off being held hostage by Anita. And I envy your homework-free evenings. Though even when I graduate, I don't think that I'll be quite so blessed. George seems to be a fan of sending important documents over at ungodly hours of the night. Betsey has started to demand that I turn off my phone before bed. I can't just silence it - I actually have to turn it OFF. God forbid someone try to rob us in the middle of the night. The police will never be called.
How very unfair that you feel obligated to ask me if I remember the night that Aaron drug us to that hellhole in the middle of Philadelphia. Of course, I remember that night, Annie. How could I not remember that night? I don't think I've ever felt so much in the span of 6 hours in my entire life. Even if I could forget all of that - and even if I could wash Aaron Burr's blood out of my favorite sweater (yes, it's still there. All of the best dry cleaners in the area have tried in vain to get it out) - I could never forget the way you looked in that little dress that night. You were beautiful, Annie. You still are. What a happy God we must have if he thought it right to grace the world with three beautiful Schuyler sisters. All of this was an extremely long and entirely unnecessary way of saying yes, I would love to take you out to a Tex-Mex remnant of our glory days. If Aaron Burr, James Madison, and Thomas Jefferson are necessary evils I must deal with in order to have such a night with you, then I will gladly bite that (or those?) bullet(s?). I suppose it could be practice for the wedding.
Yours,
Alexander
My dearest Alexander,
My wedding is in 10 days and I am so completely overwhelmed. I doubt you'll receive this letter before the wedding - you and Eliza's flight leaves in two days - but I just needed to vent. Church would take any complaints personally - you know how he gets - and Eliza just can't understand not being excited about every single aspect of a wedding. Because you are the only person who would understand without telling me that I better call off the wedding, here are the reasons that I am FREAKING OUT:
1. Church squeezes the top half of the toothpaste first, instead of working his way up from the bottom.
[2. Church is not you.]
3. The first thing that Church does when he gets home is hang up his coat. He only kisses me and pets Taz second.
[4. Church has never once smiled at me the way that you smile at me.]
5. I still don't know what escrow is. Don't you think I ought to know what escrow is before I get married? It seems like I should know a lot more about life before I get married.
[6. I can't imagine not having the option of leaving him for you for the rest of my life.]
7. Thomas says that he'll object.
[8. Thomas says that he'll object and I would rather you object than him.]
9. I'm still not comfortable with an entire day being focused on me. I like attention, but I prefer the attention of a singular person instead of upwards of 400 people.
[10. I would prefer your attention and yours alone.]
[I don't want to marry Church. I want to marry you.]
Anyway, Mama says that everyone gets cold feet. I think that's all. Don't worry about me. Just focus on getting here and playing nice with Thomas and Madison.
Love,
Angelica
Annie,
You're going to be great.
Yours,
Alexander
Rewind
My dearest, Angelica
Now that you're my fiancé, I feel that I should join Jefferson and the other heartbroken men of Oxford in writing you fan mail. Whether you choose to respond is entirely up to you, though I do know your phone number and address; I might insist on some form of communication. You could say that I'm quite a devoted fan.
It feels like just yesterday that we were sitting in Jefferson's eerily well-kept garden. You, wearing that gorgeous silk robe of yours. Me, wearing Jefferson's gaudy leopard-print sports jacket…and, of course, a bottle of chardonnay between us. Do you think we'll be that happy again when we're married? I hope so.
Speaking of weddings, it's high time that we began to plan our own. Martha has sent me what she calls a "wedding binder". It appears to be a binder full of ridiculous choices, like chairs and flower arrangements. I'll choose the flower arrangements if you'll choose the chairs. You have more experiences with asses than I (given your close friendship with Thomas Jefferson). Have you chosen your bridesmaids? I've chosen my groomsmen. John Laurens will, of course, be my best man. Given your friendship (and apparently still well-kept correspondence?), I can't imagine that you would object to that selection. My other groomsmen will include Lafayette, Hercules Mulligan, my friend Edward Stevens, Jacky (yes, George made me include his terrible step-son), and Aaron Burr. Don't ask about Burr. He's been having a really hard time lately, and, well, he's changed a lot since high school. He's actually sort of okay now. So long as he isn't in charge of choosing a bar. Could you send your list of bridesmaids? I want to make sure I can pair them appropriately. According to Martha, this is important. She dislikes the idea of John and Eliza walking together, but as Eliza is almost certainly your maid of honor, I don't see a way around it. I'll tell John to bring a date. I think he's got a steady girlfriend.
Pinterest also appears to be an excellent place for wedding planning. I don't know about all of the DIY projects - neither of us has much time or patience for such crafts - but the various ways to have a guest list and seating arrangements is fantastic. I'm thinking - no seating arrangements during the ceremony, and name and numbered wine glasses to tell people where to report during the reception. I already know what you're going to say - "Alex, what about the children?" I've already got that covered. The older ones get wine glasses too; they'll feel elegant drinking sparkling cider from their adult glasses. If they're too young for glasses, sippy cups with their names and tables on them. Obviously, I will wait for your OK on this before placing the order, but the cups ARE in my Etsy shopping cart.
As for bachelor/bachelorette parties…what are we thinking? John wants to take me to the most appalling places in the city, and, well, it sounds like Aaron is gunning to go as well. Hercules suggested a more toned-down occasion, and if I have to invite Jacky, I'd prefer it be toned down. You know he's incapable of filtering himself around Martha, and I would hate for her to think less of me. You are obviously free to do as you please, but I would like any information you're willing to contribute!
My warmest love and affection,
Alexander
My Alexander,
I was worried that I might have to hire a wedding planner, but now I see that I have nothing to worry about at all. When did you find the time to think all of that through? And then write about it? You do realize that your letter arrived five days after your flight landed in the States, don't you? You would have had to do all of that research and write the letter in, like, an hour, on your first day back. And then go all the way to the post office…
I hope that you're not being a work-driven recluse again. I don't want to have to send John to your dorm room to check that you're still alive. I think he might be getting tired of running errands in America for me. I also asked him to deliver Eliza's maid of honor gift to her yesterday. He didn't seem over the moon about it, but Eliza likes him, and he's got nothing else to do until he ships off for his appointment in France. Oh, don't think that I haven't heard about his appointment in France. Thomas is livid. Personally, I didn't care which one of them got the appointment; either way, I'll have someone new to play with by the end of the year.
Speaking of John, he's horrified that you've chosen Aaron Burr as one of your groomsmen. I can't reconcile with the fact, either. And Jacky, too! You don't like either of them. Jacky, I kind of understand. George and Martha raised you, so you'll include Martha's terrible son in the wedding. But Aaron Burr? Don't you remember him tripping over everything in high school? Or the fact that he made it his mission in life to outperform you in every single class? Do you not remember his nosebleed in the back of that cab the night in Philadelphia? When did you two become friends? Please share all of the romantic details.
As for bachelorette/bachelor parties - do not let John Laurens choose your venue. You'll wind up chain smoking outside of some tragic strip club on the wrong side of the Brooklyn Bridge. Ask my brother, John, for potential venues. He'll be a bit skittish at first, but he'll tell you the best place to have fun once he realizes that it's not a trap. You might have to invite him along, but that's just as well. He'll pay for all of your drinks if he's drunk enough. I, meanwhile, fully intend to have a bachelorette party. Eliza and Peggy have already bought tickets to Oxford (Peggy is 18 and can actually drink here!) and I've been researching where to see the best strip shows. Don't hold back for my sake.
Would you ask Hercules if he could tailor my wedding dress, by the way? John told me that he's working in fashion these days, and getting a dress tailored is so absurdly expensive. The debt of that alone would force me to stay here for another 5 years just to make the money back.
Love,
Angelica
My Dearest,
Your brother has provided valuable insight into the bachelor party. I have invited him. I expect that he'll be showing up at my door at any second. He's just like his sisters - exceptionally punctual.
John will, of course, be late. Jacky will most likely also be late. I don't mind being spared Jacky's presence very much. I still don't understand George's attachment to him. He's only Martha's son, after all. George isn't even related to him! He therefore has the objectivity to see that Jacky is a terrible human being who should be afforded no luxuries in life. But George…oh, George can't accept that. He gave Jacky a position on his campaign! His campaign! Meanwhile, Martha has informed me that I should remain quiet throughout law school, so that George may hire me without being accused of nepotism later in his career. If he should be relying on either of his not-related sons, surely it should be me. I'm the brighter one, the more socially competent one, and, well, I think that George likes me better anyway.
But I didn't mean for this letter to be a negative one! I'm looking forward to the party, but I'm looking forward to marrying you more. I would take drinking Chardonnay in pajamas with you over going to some gaudy strip club with the ruffians that I call my friends. What do you say we elope? I'll catch the next flight to Oxford. Write me with your answer quickly, so I might be able to take off before Martha catches wind of the plot.
And, yes, Herc has promised to tailor your dress, free of charge.
All my love,
Alexander
My Alexander,
I am so sorry about John. By the time you get this, I'll be on a flight home. Please open your door when I knock. We don't have to talk if you don't want to, I just don't want you to do this alone.
Love,
Angelica
My dearest Annie,
As I'm writing this, you're in the shower. You're going back to England today. I don't want you to go. I know that I can't ask you to stay - not yet - but I'm now going to ask you to think about it. Think about our future together. I have a few questions that I need answered before our wedding.
1) Do you have any interest in moving back to the States? My future lies in politics - where I can actually make a change - so I need to know if I should be preparing for a long-distance marriage.
2) Do you want children?
3) Are you a dog person, or a cat person? This is extremely important.
4) When we're married, are we using one single joint bank account, or two personal bank accounts for personal expenses, and a joint account for joint expenses?
5) Are you prepared for the scrutiny that will come along with the high office I hope to maintain?
6) Could you give up Jefferson?
I will love you, no matter what your answers are.
Your
Alexander
My Alexander,
I've just got on my flight and found your letter in my bag. I should have known that you would want to have this sort of discussion over writing. You always convey yourself best with a pen and a paper.
1) New York is where I belong. I'm not passionate about children one way or another. If they're important to you, we can have one or two. If you're vehemently opposed to children, I'm sure that I could be just as good a "cool aunt" to Eliza's children (which she will most definitely have) as I would be a mother. I will say this: if you want children, it will be your career that suffers for it. I will not be putting my career on hold to accommodate you and your wants, especially if you're not willing to do the same. I am offended that you feel the need to ask. I have attached a five-year budget and bank account plan to this letter. What kind of secrets are you accusing me of, Mr. Hamilton? I could do without anyone but you.
2) I'm not passionate about children one way or another. If they're important to you, we can have one or two. If you're vehemently opposed to children, I'm sure that I could be just as good a "cool aunt" to Eliza's children (which she will most definitely have) as I would be a mother. I will say this: if you want children, it will be your career that suffers for it. I will not be putting my career on hold to accommodate you and your wants, especially if you're not willing to do the same. I am offended that you feel the need to ask. I have attached a five-year budget and bank account plan to this letter. What kind of secrets are you accusing me of, Mr. Hamilton? I could do without anyone but you.
3) I am offended that you feel the need to ask. I have attached a five-year budget and bank account plan to this letter. What kind of secrets are you accusing me of, Mr. Hamilton? I could do without anyone but you.
4) I have attached a five-year budget and bank account plan to this letter. What kind of secrets are you accusing me of, Mr. Hamilton? I could do without anyone but you.
5) What kind of secrets are you accusing me of, Mr. Hamilton? I could do without anyone but you.
6) I could do without anyone but you.
Love,
Angelica
My Dearest, Annie,
You have been back in Oxford for a little while now, and I am loathed to accept that we must suffer this situation for much longer. Still, as your biggest fan, I have sworn to keep you updated on the goings-on in New York.
First, I am about to graduate. This means little to me, as I'll be going right back into school anyway. I've been accepted by both Georgetown and Columbia. I would like to go to Georgetown - near D.C., where all of the politics will be happening - but Martha thinks that I should stay in New York. What do you think? No one's opinion matters more than yours. That said, if I go to Georgetown, it is likely that George and Martha will ask me to live with them. At present, it appears that the Washington household is about to expand, making it much less comfortable than it has been in the past.
That brings me to my next point: Jacky is engaged. Can you believe it? I would be angry that his engagement is tarnishing my own, but really, it's comedy the likes of which O'Henry would envy. Here's what happened: George sent Jacky to yet another outrageously expensive party school in the hopes that he would get his act together and finally get his degree (like a degree in social networking would do him an ounce of good). Jacky came home for Spring Break with a letter from the Dean (kicking him out for low academic standing, of course) and a fiancé. Her name is Nelly and she is a senior in high school.
George went ballistic. He started screaming at Jacky, right in front of this girl! She is a girl, by the way. Horribly naïve, looks about fourteen, and believes that Jacky is a real catch. She belongs with someone like John Adams' eldest son, not Jacky Custis! Martha has not stopped crying since he brought her home. She is staying in my bedroom, while I live my Spring Break in my shoddy university apartment. George has forbidden Jacky from so much as speaking to this girl while they are under his roof. He says that he's going to drive her back to Virginia and speak to her father - personally. I don't envy Nelly, having to endure that car ride from Albany to Virginia with a boiling George. I don't know if you've ever seen him lose his temper, but it is something to behold.
I don't know what will become of little Nelly, but I'm sure it will be fascinating. Undoubtedly more exciting than my own engagement; though, that could have to do with the fact that we are both consenting adults with some common sense.
Oh! I nearly forgot. Eliza actually met Nelly. She told me about it while Herc was tailoring our monkey suits for the wedding. She thought Nelly was a "sweet girl," but definitely too young for Jacky. Eliza says hi, by the way. I'm sure that she has already spoken to you twice today alone, but she asked me to include the message in my most recent letter to you, and I will be damned if I disappoint the hopes of a Schuyler sister.
In other Schuyler news, little Peggy has a boyfriend. I'm sure that she hasn't told you that. He's in college - a little too old, if you want my honest opinion - but if Peggy had to date someone older, she couldn't have chosen a better man. He's smart as a whip (don't get your hopes up, though, for he could never reach your heights of intellect), cuts a striking figure, and has good manners about him. Although Peggy has reminded me several times that my opinion does not matter, I approve wholeheartedly.
It seems that I've run out of gossip for now. I will keep you updated on the tragic tale of Jacky Custis and his under-aged Nelly. Assuming that George does not kill the both of them.
Your
Alexander
My Alexander,
Please send out the wedding invitations when you get a moment - according to the binder that Martha sent me (yes, she spent the $10 to ship me a copy, too!), there is a certain timeline that we have to follow, and we're already two months behind. Whoops!
As for Jacky - why am I not surprised? No girl his age is ever going to want a dropout who can't hold anything but his mother's unbridled obsession. I'm too young for him, and I'm still too old to tolerate his behavior! How is Martha taking the news? I can't imagine that she's too happy, but I can't quite picture her being angry with Jacky, either. I'll bet she blames Nelly for "ruining" her boy. Does she blame Nelly? Please let me know.
If you think that I didn't know about Stephen (that's Peggy's boyfriend's name, in case you didn't know), then you don't have very much faith in me at all. Peggy told me about him while she was in Oxford. I have since spent more time than I would care to admit investigating him on every social media site I could think of. Have you seen his connections on LinkedIn? He knows a good deal of important military men. You might think about becoming close with him. Good politicians have connections with the military.
Don't forget about those invitations, please. Martha has been texting me every night reminding me that we're behind schedule, and with the elections for a new prime minister going on, I really don't have time to hand-write 300 invites.
Love,
Angelica
My Dearest, Annie,
I can't believe that you assigned me 300 invitations to hand write. The smudges on the corners of the pages consist of my blood. The actual quill that Martha made me use (for authenticity, apparently) has given me blisters and then done me the favor of popping said blisters.
As the most severe punishment I can think of, I will not be telling you the most recent development in the Nelly/Jacky saga. Mostly because my hand hurts too badly, but also as revenge.
Your
Alexander
My Alexander,
I'm sorry to hear about your poor, dear hand. I hope that it has recovered enough in the time between your last letter and now.
Especially because you sent the wrong date out on the invitation.
I just got the call from Eliza. She says that you mixed up the month and the day. You set our wedding for a month from now. We're already behind as it is - Martha will have a heart attack if we move the wedding up even further. If Jacky hasn't already given her one, that is.
You'll have to send out another batch, apologizing to everyone for the mistake and setting the record straight. Get to work, Hamilton.
Love,
Angelica
My Dearest, Annie,
I am not sending out another 300 invitations. I have enclosed the 300 corrected invitations. You may hand-write every apology and envelope.
Your
Alexander
My Alexander,
I'm not correcting those invitations, either.
Love,
Angelica
My Dearest Annie,
I don't know what you want to do about this. Our "wedding" is in two weeks.
Your,
Alexander
My Alexander,
I bought my plane ticket. I will walk down that aisle on the wrong day before I hand write 300 invitations because you messed up the first batch. Pick me up from the airport on Thursday morning. Then I guess you had better write your vows because if you don't correct those invitations we're getting married on Friday.
Love,
Angelica
My Dearest Annie,
I'll see you Friday.
Your,
Alexander
Hi guys! Look what's back!
Yes, I have finished my exams, taken my practice bar exam, and now I have a few more hours a week to dedicate to writing. A new chapter for this story should be posted every other week - the weeks in which this story won't be posted will be for my other lagging fic. If you're reading both, lucky you! If not, sit patiently. It'll all be over soon [but not actually, because there are still way more plot twists in store].
Enjoy!