CHAPTER XVI
It was raining outside. Thomas glanced darkly through the windows, looking at the restless puddles on the street, and shivered. He took his elegant umbrella instead of the walking stick for a change – he'd be going by carriage anyway – and sighed deeply, gathering the strength to make it for the night. He really didn't want to do it, but there was no choice. After one of the best days together, after confessing their feelings to each other, Alexander had disappeared – Thomas had sent him letters and tried to talk with him at work, but Hamilton seemed to avoid him as well as he could. He'd been on the point of writing a very compromising letter, asking Alexander to renew his feelings for him, or to release him from the golden jail of love by telling him not to hope for his affection anymore; but, in the end, he'd hesitated before sending it – he'd been afraid something wasn't right and decided to wait another day before surrendering to his despair. He'd blessed his hesitation a hundred of times, since the very day he'd been about to send the letter to Alexander, he'd received a note from him.
Dear Thomas – it was already odd that he'd called him by his first name – I'm afraid I've used the wrong excuse at the wrong moment, and my wife has accused me of cheating on her. I've tried to ease her mind but in the last days she'd been very distressed by her suspicions, and so I've told her about our innocent friendship – and that we are hiding from the public eye only for the benefit of our nation. She's been very relieved to know it, but also very confused by the news, and so she has asked me to invite you here for supper in order to know you better, since I've explained her the importance of your friendship for me. I actually think she only wants to be sure that I'm not seeing another woman. I'm very sorry to ask you this, but it's the only way I can continue seeing you without making my dear wife upset – will you come?
Please burn the letter as soon as you read it – even a hint of our friendship could be dangerous if read by malicious eyes.
It hadn't been signed – another precautional measure to avoid raising unwanted questions. Thomas had been very nervous about the dinner, but since he hadn't find any other way to convince Eliza of Alexander's loyalty – well, he hadn't cheat on her with another woman anyway – he had half-heartedly accepted their invitation for dinner. That's why he was standing on his doorstep at five o' clock on a Sunday evening, convincing himself to take the first step and go to his lover's house to dine with him and his wife.
When he arrived, he caught a glimpse of Alexander's very anxious face peeping from the windows, and less than a minute later, the green-dressed man opened the door with an uneasy air, his back too stiffen to be natural.
"Hi," Thomas whispered from outside the door, smiling a loving smile.
"Mr Jefferson, sir," Alexander greeted him awkwardly, shaking his hand – his palms were sweating.
"Mr Hamilton," he answered politely, and added softly, only for Alex to hear, "calm down, love, it'll be fine"
"I'm sorry for dragging you here –
"I love you"
Alexander smiled at last, and let him enter, taking his coat and leading him into the small dining room, where Eliza warmly greeted him.
"Mr Jefferson," she seemed relieved beyond measure, "I'm so happy to see that you and my husband have finally buried the hatchet"
"Mrs Hamilton, you're lovely as ever"
"Oh, please, take a seat," she giggled and went in the kitchen to make some final arrangements for the dinner.
"You should stop making eyes at my wife"
"Are you jealous, Hamilton?" he joked, adding low, "it's not the wife I want though"
"Ha! Jealous of you? Why would I?" Alexander blew him a kiss from the other side of the table and sat, "would you like some wine? I'm afraid our cooking is not enough à la française for your taste"
"I'm sure it'll be delicious," Thomas grinned while raising his glass of wine, "a toast to our friendship," and winked.
Eliza returned in the room, followed by a very minute maid, who served them the dinner and left them to enjoy the company. After the briefest moment of silence ever, Alexander started to talk about anything that came up to his mind, telling Thomas and Eliza some funny stories from the days of the war, or asking Thomas questions about the years he'd spent in France – anything to avoid the silence.
"Absolutely, France is way more fashionable than England, I can assure you," Thomas was answering to one of his queries, he seemed comfortable and confident as usual, "and, Mrs Hamilton, the dresses and the adornments wore by French women are definitely avant-garde if compared to the ones used here," he turned to Eliza, who seemed very curious about it.
"You know that Monsieur de Lafayette and I are almost like brothers, right?" Alexander mocked him, "you won't impress us with your stories about French ladies, I think Lafayette has exhaustively told us everything on that topic"
Elisa looked at him smiling, as if she'd suddenly remembered a funny moment they'd shared some time before – Thomas felt again that strange possessiveness, the desire to take Alexander away with him and have the time to build their own memories instead of sharing him with a wife, regardless how sweet she was.
"Would you stop looking at my wife like that?" Alexander scolded him, and Thomas realised he'd been staring at Eliza and she was blushing a little.
"I'm sorry," he smiled politely, "I was still wondering how can such an angelic woman marry a scoundrel like you"
"Excuse me?!"
"You heard me, Hamilton," he challenged him happily, raising his glass again, "let's make another toast, to the beautiful Schuyler sisters – you know, I had the pleasure of meeting your sister Angelica in Europe, she's such an elegant woman"
They talked a lot about Angelica – it was a safe topic and all the three of them were quite affectionate towards her. Alexander looked askance at him a couple of times, but they spent an enjoyable evening, despite the situation.
"Do you play, Mr Jefferson?"
"I'm not really good, but I can play some violin and cello"
"Bullshit, he's very good at it," Alexander talked before thinking.
"Have you listened to him playing?" Eliza sounded a bit surprised, "I haven't imagined you two to be so close already"
"No, I've heard him just once, from the street," Alexander quickly lied, "he was playing in front of the open window for everyone on the street to listen – show off." Well, that wasn't a complete lie.
"We only have a piano in here, I'm sorry," she added timidly.
"Why don't you play for us, if it isn't too indelicate to ask you so"
"I'd love to – Alexander would you play a duet with me?"
Alex was taken aback by her request – he'd playing lots of duets with Thomas lately, and they used to joke about it, saying that their music was the only thing they could find some harmony in. He looked at Thomas, his face was unemotional – he'd put on the usual 'Jefferson mask' – and then back to his smiling wife.
"Of course, Betzy, whatever you want hon," and sat at the piano next to her, turning his back to Thomas, who stood next to the fireplace with a glass of wine in his hand.
They started to play a duet from Mozart's. Eliza, being more skilled than him, was able to fill up his shortcomings, and they played beautifully for some minutes. When the song ended, Eliza put her hand on Alexander's, looking at him with her loving black eyes – silently telling him that she had forgiven him for his lies. Alexander smiled back at her, kissing her hand before turning to their guest.
"That was lovely," something in Thomas's voice was wrong – Eliza didn't noticed it, but Alexander knew him too well to fail seeing jealousy in his hungry eyes.
"You're too kind," Eliza bowed slightly at him, "it has been a pleasure to have you with us tonight. If you gentlemen would excuse me now, I'm really tired and I wish to rest a bit"
Thomas bowed to her and his gaze followed her joyful figure as she headed upstairs and disappeared from their sight. Then, he slowly turned to Hamilton, raising an eyebrow at him – he was still standing next to the piano, holding his breath, waiting for him to say something. When Thomas didn't, he hazarded a timid smile.
"Well, that wasn't that bad, was it?"
Silence again. Thomas suddenly turned away from him and went to the door; but instead of going away, he closed it noiselessly.
"Do you know how much I wanted to kiss you in front of your wife, just to let her know that you're mine?" he asked calmly.
"That would have been counter-productive, I guess," Alexander giggled, blushing a bit.
Thomas smiled sadly and moved closer, opening his arms to welcome the smaller man into his warm embrace.
"Do you know what does this mean, right?" Alexander sighed happily and looked up at him with a contagious smile, "we can see each other whenever we want now, I don't have to lie anymore"
"Yes, love," Thomas took his time and gently kissed every inch of Alexander's face – he'd been dying to do it for the whole night, "although, I'd been very difficult for me to stay here and watch you two playing together, you know," he added, teasing Alexander, "tu es à moi, tu le sais, mon petit chou?"
"Yes," he moaned softly.
"So, maybe you could reward my efforts, and return the favour by coming to Monticello for Christmas," Thomas finally proposed, without looking at him.
Alexander was speechless – was Thomas really asking him to spend the holidays together in Virginia? His perplexed look was readily misunderstood by Thomas –
"Only if you want to," he added quickly, "I'll understand if you –
"I'll come," Alexander almost yelled his answer, a note of excitement in his voice, "of course I want to, that'll be wonderful"
"Shh, yes, now lower your voice," Thomas laughed softly, "or your wife won't be happy to find us like this"
"Yeah, right," Alexander whispered back, a dreamy smile still on his face, "do you want another glass of wine?"
"You do know me then"
A couple of hours later they were sitting comfortably on the couch, Alexander's head resting on Thomas's knees, the empty bottle of wine forgotten on the table. Thomas was brushing Alexander's hair with his fingers, speaking quietly in French, or humming lullabies that echoed in the sleeping house.
"Thomas?" Alexander drowsy voice called him.
"Oui, mon coeur?"
"Let's escape together"
"Yes love, and where do you want to go?"
"To Virginia first"
"Ah, if you come to Virginia you won't go away," Thomas looked in the distance, remembering the places he loved so much.
"Then we can go to France and change our names or something"
"And let Lafayette have his chances with you? Never," he joked.
"Lafayette doesn't like men – wait, did you and him –
"Well, mon trésor, did you really think I've never had fun in France?"
"Whaaaaat? No, not with him!" Alex abruptly got up, almost falling out of dizziness.
"Come on, Alexander, things in France are different... they're not so narrow-minded," he sighed, "are you jealous or did you think I've never been with another man?"
Alexander muttered something unintelligible, frowning at him.
"Come here," Thomas tried to make up, offering his hand to him.
Alexander stood for a second, and then took it, curling against Thomas again, but he was still bearing a grudge. Thomas put one finger under his chin, gently forcing him to raise his head and look up.
"You shouldn't be jealous, Alexander, you're the first person I've ever loved in many years"
At his words, Alexander's eyes heated with love – and perhaps a bit of satisfaction, he threw himself at Thomas and kissed him deeply.
"I love you too, you shameless tomcat"
When he escorted Thomas to the door again, Alexander was quite tipsy and definitely happy. He looked at Jefferson's unsteady shape while he walked towards his carriage, heavily sat inside and blew him a kiss – his bright smile lighting the darkness of the night. Alexander closed the door and leaned against it, still dazed by how well the night had gone. And now he couldn't wait for Christmas to come.
Notes:
"Tu es à moi, tu le sais mon petit chou?" = "You're mine, do you know it sweetheart?"
And sooooo Alex and Thomas are going to spend their holidays together in Virginia! :D
