We have been home from our visit with Philip Schuyler for a week, and now I review the missive from Jefferson, having received word from Judge Nathaniel Pendleton that Alexander has requested he be second in a duel as he was challenged by Aaron Burr. According to the letter the challenge is set for dawn. I dismiss the weary courier.
Angelica looks down at me from the stairs. "John, what is it?"
I swallow thickly. If I ride out now, hire a boat to cross the Hudson, I can be there ahead of the dawn. I know, given this news, sleep will not take me.
"Angelica, I don't have time. Hurry, bring me my guns, and my coat. I need to hurry," I manage.
Her eyes meet mine in alarm. "What's the matter?"
"There is no time. I will tell you tomorrow when I come home. Make haste, Alexander's life is at stake. See to Eliza in the morning, but do not alarm her. I will see him home safely, the damn fool," I manage.
Once she's brought me my things, I give her the letter, and I hear her gasp as I leave the house and hurry to the barn. I make quick work of readying my horse. Once at the docks I offer double a normal fee to cross the river, upon reaching the New Jersey shore, I make my way to the location disclosed in Jefferson's letter. This errand so similar to one I'd rather not recall from a few short years earlier.
I check my pocket watch; I have an hour before Alexander and Burr arrive. I know why he would seek Pendleton as a second. He knew if he'd asked me, I would find a way to talk him out of this insanity. I imagine Pendleton, in seeking a way to avoid being called as a witness had confided in Jefferson in the hopes of an intervention of some kind.
I check my pistols, they are clean, loaded and ready. I am pulled from my thoughts as the men approach. Burr and his second, William Van Ness, and Alexander and Pendleton, with a doctor in tow. I make my presence known, and snatch Alexander's arm, startling him.
"What the hell, Alexander?" I snarl. He winces, and Burr snorts.
"Of course, you would have to be a part of this," Burr says.
I turn a sharp glare in his direction, "Stay out of this."
"He accepted my challenge," Burr replies, anger and arrogance in his tone.
"Alexander, I will not allow you to go through with this. What about your family? You've risked enough in a lifetime and Burr is not worth all of this! Your goddamned pride is not worth this!"
"All I have is my honor, what I've worked so hard to establish. I leave them a legacy, and you know my skill and marksmanship, John," he replies.
"No, Alexander," I snarl, and then turn to the other men. "I will take his place, I will accept the challenge for his honor, Is this agreeable, Van Ness, Burr?"
I notice the nervousness that rises in Burr's face. He's seen me in a duel before, was Charles Lee's second. That nervousness may work against me.
Burr gives a nod to save face, but I am not looking forward to facing down a nervous man with a gun, even if he is known as a poor shot. Desperation does strange things to a man.
"No, I can fight my own battles, Laurens!"
"I won't see you take the chance to make your wife a widow."
"Why John? Why are you interfering? I didn't tell you for this reason!"
"I told you once, long ago, I would always give my life for yours. I promised you time, time to live, to create a legacy, to have a family. I promised my life to you, for you. If you die, I will follow you," I say softly, and he is stunned to quiet and stillness.
I take advantage of Alexander's state of shock and call over Pendleton and Van Ness to inspect my pistols, see if they are approved for the duel, each clean and carefully loaded with bullet and gunpowder.
Burr is looking at me in calculation, and then he looks past me. A moment later I am forcefully spun around by Alexander, he clasps my face in his hands, his forehead against mine as he takes in a shaky breath as he whispers, "You mean more to me than this."
He then pulls back from me and steps in front of me protectively, "I concede. Whatever it is you wish to accomplish today Burr; it's done. Whatever you think of me, it doesn't matter."
"Just like that? So easily you concede defeat?" Burr replies, perplexed, and then for the first time I've ever seen in all my years of knowing him, anger floods the man. "You even deny me this? All you've taken from me, every success, every accolade, everything! This is how you see this end? You owe me a fight Hamilton! You fucking owe me a fight!"
Alexander and I turn to look at Burr as his anger overwhelms him and then he is rushing Alexander, and Alexander takes the brunt of the force, landing on his back as Burr unleashes his fury, fists pounding Alexander's face and torso. After the initial shock wears off I began to try and separate them, Alexander is getting hits in as well as they roll and fight, and between me, Pendleton and Van Ness we manage to separate the pair, both of them looking worse for the wear, bloody faces, dirty, bruised, Burr even spitting a part of a broken tooth to the ground, eyes and jaws swelling between the two.
An unspoken agreement is shared between Pendleton, Van Ness and me. I keep my hold on Alexander and they keep their hold on Burr. Alexander is struggling against me, but with a word from me his struggles lessen, though his glare is still fixed on Burr.
"Is it settled then?" I ask, fixing a warning gaze on Burr.
He takes in a breath, and nods, Pendleton and Van Ness release him, and then I look to Alexander, back to being still. "I'm satisfied," he says, and I can't help myself as a laugh breaks loose and I throw my arms around Alexander, glad that the duel is over. Glad that a stray bullet hasn't ended my life by ending Alexander's.
"Have the doctor see to Burr. I'll take Alexander back across the river and see to his injuries. Pendleton, see that my pistols are returned to me later this evening."
Leaving the men in the field, I lead Alexander to the river. It doesn't take long to secure passage back across the river. I stop by the stable near the dock to pick up Prospero. I get on first, and Alexander, too weary to care, gets on behind me. He holds onto me loosely as I make my way to his home, knowing that Angelica and the children are already there, awaiting word, and seeking to comfort Eliza.
Once we canter up to the house, Angelica and Eliza rush out of the house, both gasp as they notice Alexander slumped against me. Philip appears behind his mother and helps me get his father down, and then I dismount. Alexander has passed out.
"Hurry let's get him inside, Angelica, fetch a doctor. I didn't realize he'd been injured so badly," I say, as Eliza begins to cry.
We make it upstairs to the master bedroom, and Philip and I lower Alexander to the bed. I make quick work of removing his clothing as gently as I can as Eliza enters the room, fretting, and by Alexander's side.
"Was he… was he? There's no blood other than his face, surely he wasn't shot?" she asks tearfully.
I shake my head, and take in a harsh breath at the sight of the bruises already forming on Alexander's right side, his ribs and abdomen. The evidence of Aaron Burr's ire, hatred, and strong left arm. I gently press along Alexander's ribs, suspecting some broken ribs, which would explain the raggedness in Alexander's breathing, and then, in his unconscious state he says, "John, mon amour, ma vie, tu ne peux pas partir, tu ne peus pas mourir."
Eliza gasps and Philip takes a step back from the bed, staring between his father and I, and I am glad that the other children are not present in the room.
"What… Uncle John…why does he call you his love, his life? Why is he afraid you would die?" he looks at me, questions in his dark eyes, and Eliza cries harder, Philip goes to her side, holding her tightly to comfort her.
I look at Eliza and Philip, trying to find the words to explain this, and I'm not sure how long we are like this before Angelica arrives with the doctor. Once the doctor arrives, I try to get up, planning to leave the room to brace myself for the explanation that I owe Eliza and Philip, but in his distress at the doctor examining him, Alexander grabs my hand and holds fast, whimpers when I try to pull away and I can no longer part from him.
Eliza has calmed, her eyes seem to hold some kind of acceptance, Philip's eyes rise up from my hand holding his unconscious father's hand to my eyes. I have a lot to answer for, I think as I kneel down by the bed, resigned to Alexander's evident, subconscious need of me. Angelica is shifting her gaze from me and Alexander to her sister and our nephew. Angelica and Eliza's father, thankfully, has already come to take the younger children while we see to Alexander's care.
When the doctor is finished, he tells us that Alexander has a concussion, four broken ribs on his right side, the busted lip and black eye are obvious, and the cut over his right eyebrow needs a few sutures.
The doctor works around my hand clasped with Alexander's, raises no question, just tends to his work. We are all quiet once the doctor advises us on wrapping Alexander's ribs, when he will most likely wake, and leaves a bottle of laudanum for the pain.
Finally, the doctor leaves and that leaves me, Alexander still unconscious and clinging to my hand, Angelica, Eliza, and Philip.
"Well, what is this? What… What is…" Philip finally speaks up again in the absence of the doctor.
"I knew he loved you John, suspected more than as a brother, but I never thought that was something you returned in equal measure," Eliza says quietly, her tear-filled eyes meeting mine, and my eyes fall shut, in shame of the hurt I have caused her.
"Eliza, I'm sorry… I just, needed to remain in his life. Whatever affections that either of us have for each other, they have never… We never acted on them. I promised him after meeting him I would be by his side, and in this I never wavered. I was there even when it hurt the most," I respond quietly, and I feel the weight of Philip's gaze on me.
"You were there with him this morning on his fool's errand, and you brought him back alive to me, for that I am grateful," Eliza says, her smile genuine, and I ask, "How long Eliza? How long have you known this?"
She takes in a deep breath. "Since our wedding night. You know how he talks in his sleep. Usually French, though sometimes he adds Spanish. He always talks about you the most, John. You met him first, knew him longer than I did, and you've loved him best, even more so than me, because I imagine you went to New Jersey this morning ready to give your own life for his."
I watch as Angelica goes to Eliza, squeezes Eliza's shoulder and Eliza looks up at her, "I know how you look at him too, comma after dearest. You sacrificed your heart for my happiness, that's why you married John isn't it?"
Angelica nods and looks at me, and as our eyes meet the weight of the shared burden we carry seems to lift.
"So, you and my father, you have a relationship?" Philip asks, trying to understand, his eyes filling with hurt and a need to defend his mother in all of this as he draws closer to her.
"Philip," she calls to him, smiling gently. "Your father didn't grow up as you did, didn't have a good family, and he didn't know love after his mother passed away. I imagine he didn't know it until he met John. And it was John and Angelica who led him to me. Do not blame your father in finding love when he knew so little about it. Besides, do you forget that I know your secret."
I watch as heat rushes up his face, even the tips of his ears burning, and he concedes his mother's point. She then asks something that startles Philip, "So, why did Aaron Burr challenge Alexander to a duel."
Philip's face goes pallid, as he turns a wide, guilty gaze to his father on the bed, as I carefully work to get him to unleash my hand. "Theodosia…"
Angelica and I turn to Philip in surprise, "Burr's daughter?" I ask.
There is a groan from the bed, and the hand falls away from mine. I wonder how long he has been awake as he finally winces and opens his eyes. "Care to tell me more about that son?"
"Pa," Philip says, relief and worry in his voice.
"I… well," Philip begins, and then Alexander pats a spot on the bed. "No judgment, Pip. It seems you've discovered my biggest secret; I won't tell you whom you can love. How long?"
"We've been writing each other for over a year. Is that why…" Philip asks.
Alexander pats his son's hand and says, "No. I don't think he knows about that yet. This was about politics, my influence in his losses over the years."
"So, you actually sent him a list of your grievances from over the past near thirty years?" I ask in disbelief.
"A forty-page missive, that was after revisions. There is one thing I should thank him for though," Alexander says and grips my hand again. I look at him in confusion, knowing that our wives and his eldest son are watching, rapt with attention.
"Alex…" I say, unsure of what he is about to say.
"He introduced me to you," Alex says, and smiles. "My first love, that led me to my wife, my children, and all of my successes. I suppose now that we all know… I won't risk our reputations, our legacy, and we've made it this long in controlling our urges… Now we have the time to be two old men surrounded by our grandchildren someday."
He smiles up at me and then cautiously turns to our wives, "Eliza, why didn't you tell me that you knew?"
She smiles softly, "I thought you might tell me one day, when you knew you could trust me."
"I'm sorry I waited so long," he responds quietly and I look at Angelica as she approaches me, embraces me and then kisses me, and I smile into the kiss.
"My dearest, compassionate Angelica, I am still yours. I expect you will remind me of this later."
"Will you tell Jefferson about my reminding you of this later?" she shoots back teasingly, still holding that one incident against me, and then Alexander sits up, wincing at the pain in his side as he cries out, "Thomas fucking Jefferson knows?"
"After today, I suppose Burr does too," I respond wryly and then capture my wife's lips in a kiss as Alexander finally lets go my hand.
End.
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