It takes nearly two years for Alexander to regain Eliza's forgiveness. Two years of treading carefully at home and throwing himself into his work and children. Adam's administration nearly destroys him, especially when he loses his position as Secretary of Treasury, but he is still an adviser of the National Bank and we still practice law.
It is November 1801, as I prepare a lecture for the class I am teaching at King's College on law, a wry smile on my face that I am teaching law, when Alexander has always been the true scholar between us, but so far, I am enjoying the position. It has also brought me close to Philip, who has taken it upon himself to adopt my own Lexi as his favorite baby sister. I needn't worry about suitors given his closeness to her. Then again, Lexi has the temperament of her mother, and often I find that she and Philip study together, while she cannot attend King's College, she still receives the knowledge through Philip's guidance and questioning me relentlessly.
My Andrew is pursuing his own ventures, finding himself drawn to horses and working for a large stable near my offices. It's honest work, pleases him, and he does well with breaking particularly spirited animals. He reminds me of myself, younger and in South Carolina. His happiness reassures me, and should he find himself a horseman, and it pleases him, then so be it.
Of course, as I review my notes for the lecture I plan for Monday, Philip rushes in and goes straight to his father's office. It is late in the evening, but Philip often visits the office, still this is unusual in that he usually greets me and speaks with me before his father, given he must pass my office to get to his father's. Separate offices became a necessity when I took the position of law professor at King's College, something Alexander still teases me for.
Philip is animated, so much like his father, but the words are muffled through the door. I don't hear Alexander's responses, but Alexander has calmed considerably in regaining his Eliza's affections again. Philip continues to rant and then their conversation quiets. My eyes widen at the sight of Philip leaving the office with the satchel know, to contain Alexander's pistols.
I rise to my feet; lecture be damned and forgotten. I enter Alexander's office, he is pacing, and shaking his head, and I clear my throat to gain his attention.
"Why did Philip leave with your guns?" I ask, bracing myself.
Alexander sighs. "He's been challenged to a duel. I couldn't talk him out of it, and so I gave him what advice I could."
"Who challenged him and what advice did you give?"
"It was a classmate from school, I think. I told him his mother cannot stand another heartbreak, that taking a life is too heavy a burden to bear, and I told him to aim high," Alexander says, worry in his eyes.
"Who was it, did he give you a name?" I ask, my stomach coiling in fear.
"Eacker?"
"George Eacker?" I manage, recalling how Eacker had spoken against Alexander earlier in the week. Knowing Eacker's less than honorable reputation for starting conflict.
"And what experience do you have in advising Philip in the way of duels, other than being the cause of them?" I snap.
Alexander flinches at that. "Where is it to take place?"
"New Jersey, Weehawken, tomorrow at dawn," Alexander responds, and then he swallows thickly in nervousness. "Most duels end without a single shot being fired—"
"And when has that ever been the case with you, Alex?"
"I… He won't listen to me, John. He's determined. He's too much like me," Alexander nearly pleading, the worry evident in his tone.
"Yes, the Hamilton pride may get the pair of you killed one day," I grind out, pinch the bridge of my nose, and then sigh.
"Go home to Eliza, don't alarm her. Hold all of your children close. I will see him home safely in the morning. I swore to myself the first time I ever saw him I would give my life for his. You needn't worry. He will come home to you," I say, as the calm washes over me.
"John… I… I… thank you," he says, closing his eyes in relief and in shame.
I shake my head. "I wouldn't be so quick to thank me. You will be the one to explain this to my wife."
He blanches at the thought, having learned quite well the Schuyler women's fire.
I take my leave of the office, make haste home. Once I'm home Lexi hurries to me fretting. "Daddy, do you know?"
I sigh. "Yes, I do. Foolish of me to think that if it involves your dearest cousin, that you wouldn't. Don't worry, I will see him home tomorrow, and he and I will have a long talk, and then you can do your worst, because I know he fears your ire the most."
"I cannot promise that his face will be entirely intact when I'm done," she hisses, and I nod.
"Just don't tuck your thumb in your fist, darlin," I reply with a smirk.
She snorts. "You forget father, I am not Andrew."
I wince and shrug, remembering that sparring lesson, and getting hell for allowing Lexi to break dear Andrew's nose. I honestly allowed no such thing…
"Where's your mother?"
She worries her lip between her teeth, a habit from her mother. "She's with Auntie Liza, and given what I know Philip has agreed to… I have your pistols ready. You'll bring him home?"
I embrace my daughter, her head right at my chin. I shift my head and press a kiss to her head. "Of course, and then your Uncle Alex will explain all of this to your mother."
Lexie winces, but then nods in understanding.
"I love you, Daddy," she whispers, and I reply, "I love you too, my sweet Lexi. We'll be home in the morning. I promise, and I've never broken a promise to you, have I, my dear girl?"
"Don't start now," she whispers as we part. I nod in affirmation, pull her to me ,and place a reassuring kiss to her forehead as she gives me the satchel with my guns. Tonight promises to be a long one.
I decide to make my way to the place for the duel. New Jersey, everything is legal in New Jersey. Once I've crossed the Hudson I stop by a small tavern, knock back a single shot of whiskey, and then I make my way to the place. I sit at the base of a tall tree, let my head fall back against the trunk, seeing the stars above.
I take in a shaky breath, thinking about Alexander, his passion, his pride, his strengths and faults, and I pray that there is more of Eliza in Philip, enough of Eliza to keep that boy alive. I remember his tiny face the first time I saw him, how he gripped my finger, so strong, and his eyes alight with a hunger for learning. So much like his father, too much like his father, I fear.
I'm lost to my thoughts as the sky begins to light, a gray cast, and I notice five men approaching. I rise to my feet, hearing Philip, detecting the nervousness in his voice. I make my approach.
"Gentleman," I say, and Eacker, looks up, arrogant, brazen, curious about my presence.
"Mr. Laurens," he acknowledges. "What brings you here?"
"Uncle John?" Philip says, and then Eacker says, "Ah, so that's it. I didn't know you were related to the Hamiltons."
I narrow my eyes on Eacker, insufferable, a loud mouth, a reputation for troublemaking.
"This ends now. There will be no duel," I say sharply.
Eacker snorts. "When Hamilton concedes I will consider it done. His father is a scoundrel and a cur, his son does not stray far from that description."
He is surprised as his head snaps back from the impact of my fist. His second reaches to steady him. Eacker's anger rises, and his glare locks with my cold gaze, and I detect the first trace of his fear.
"No one needs to die here, but if you insist on a duel, then accept my challenge. I should warn you, son, that I am a gifted marksman and I fought in the Revolution. Have you come here prepared to die?" I ask him, my tone firm.
Eacker curls his lip, but his cowardice wins. "Very well, this is done."
I nod briskly. "Good, and I expect that you will keep the name of all of the Hamiltons out of your mouth. I would also encourage you to withdraw from my class, given this new conflict of interest between us. Should you find yourself in similar circumstances in the future I will personally see to your prosecution. I have friends in high places, Eacker. I suggest you make yourself very scarce. Talk less, cower more."
He gives a stiff nod, and then he, his second, the doctor and Philip's second depart. Philip is staring at me in shock, and worry.
"Uncle John?" he asks, hesitance in his tone.
I raise my gaze to his and he flinches. I then approach him, and feel him exhale harshly in surprise as I jerk him into an embrace. I hold him tightly, reassuring myself that he is alive, this boy that means as much to me as my own children. I am relieved by every exaltation of his breath, and I clap him on the back as we part.
"Never again, Philip. Your father's pride is damning enough. He is old enough, and capable of fighting his own battles over honor. He's a damn fool and I told him as much last night. You are smarter than this, you promise me that this will never happen again, son, never again. Your mother, and even your stubborn father would never recover the loss of you, neither would I," I say quietly, and tears trail his face as he nods stoically.
"I just… I thought it was behind us, everything with the whole Reynolds affair and he called out father and… Why does that still linger, why does it still follow us? Mother has forgiven him, though how…" Philip says, his hurt evident.
I sigh. "Life is complicated, and your father is a man, Philip. I know the hurt of that discovery. That doesn't mean he loves you any less. He has regrets, has made mistakes, a lot of them in fact, but he will always choose his family, you, your mother first. Will he falter, yes, but that is when you talk to him, work out your grievances. Dying is easy, living is harder, but it is worth it, Philip. Living is always worth it."
"So… you're not angry with me?" he asks, seemingly in fear of my disappointment.
"No," I say, "Angry at your father for his ill advice yes, but not angry at you. I suppose you will face enough anger when I get you home. By now your mother knows, and Angelica, and Lexi is waiting for you. She had my guns at the ready last night when I went home."
I chuckle at his wince when I mention my daughter.
"How angry is she?" he asks
I laugh. "You know her temper."
His shoulders slump at this, and I throw my arm across them. "She will be pleased to see you alive, but I would brace for the worst."
"Of all the things you've taught her, did fighting have to be one of them?" he asks with a whine.
"I don't know about you, and maybe when you are a father one day, you will understand, but I feel that a woman should be just as capable of defending herself as any man."
"This will be from anger, not defense, Uncle John," he says dryly, fixing me with a woeful side glance.
Within a couple of hours, we are at the door of the Hamilton household. Philip is fidgeting, nervous energy thrumming. He looks at me for reassurance as the door is flung open and my daughter rushes him. I catch him as he falls back from the force of her right hook.
His hands immediately cover his nose. I wince, and then she grapples him into a hug, and his watering eyes look to me for assistance.
"Lexi, let him go. I need to fix his nose," I say with a hint of pity.
Once she lets him go, I turn him to face me, grasp his nose between my hands and snap it back into place.
"Shit!" he shouts, and that is when Eliza joins us, fretting over him, asking him if he is okay, and Alexander is there too and Angelica.
"There's blood, what happened?" Eliza says, fretting over Philip, inspecting him for injury.
"Lexi's fist, Ma, she broke my nose," Philip manages, his voice thick with pain and his swollen nose.
"If that is your only injury then consider it a blessing," Eliza scolds, and I nod in agreement, my respect for this incredible woman rising again. She then looks at me, and her eyes sparkle with unshed tears and relief. "Thank you for bringing him home to me John. Thank you."
Then her gaze shifts to Alexander. "You knew about this," she snaps, and then her hand finds firm purchase against his cheek, and I think, perhaps I should teach her how to make a proper fist, in this moment, Alexander certainly deserves it.
With that she gathers her son to her, and leads him into the house. Angelica and Lexi join them, and Angelica looks at me over her shoulder. "Thank you, I love you," she mouths to me, and at least I'm in a favorable position right now.
As Alexander recovers himself, I sigh, and say, "I made him promise never again. He's home, he's alive, he's well, now come on, I think we could both could use a drink right now."
He nods his agreement, gingerly rubbing his cheek as we walk together to the tavern.
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