"Do you really think that she meant it when she asked me to correspond with her?" Alexander whispered to Hercules at church the next morning. He ignored the sharp looks that he received from those around them. "Would it be too forward of me to write her straight away?"
"Hammie, this is not the time." Hercules grumbled, burying his face in the bible. His father was the preacher at this particular church; he didn't want to be seen talking during the service.
"I cannot wait much longer, or she will think that I was insincere in my sentiments." Alexander complained. "If she truly wants me to write, of course."
"Hammie." Hercules shook his head.
"Hey." John slid into their pew, bumping against Hercules. He wasn't dressed for church. He was wearing a loud blue jacket. His face was red, but he was grinning from ear to ear. "Herc, would you mind terribly if I removed Alexander from his religious obligations for a moment?"
"God, no. Take him. Both of you, get out before you get me excommunicated." Hercules hissed.
"Don't take the lord's name in vain, Herc." Alexander reminded Hercules playfully, standing up and scooting past Hercules in the pew to get to John. Hercules glowered after them as they exited the church.
The moment that the heavy church doors closed behind them, John turned to face Alexander with an excited smile. His fingers tapped against his legs. He looked as though he was just restraining himself from grabbing ahold of Alexander out of sheer excitement. Alexander smiled, too. John's excitement was contagious, if not slightly worrisome.
"General Washington is taking residence with me during his stay in New York." John told Alexander, his voice hitching up an octave. He was practically trembling. After hearing the news, Alexander was practically trembling, too.
"John, but that's - that's superb! Are you going to apply for a command? Surely he would grant you one, being your houseguest. Which command would you choose? Cavalry, surely. You are best on a horse. You are a good shot, too, of course, but that precision can carry -"
"Alexander." John interrupted him with a laugh. "What about you?"
"Well, what about me?" Alexander echoed uncertainly.
John rolled his eyes and clapped Alexander on the back. Out of excitement, the motion was a bit rougher than it typically was. Alexander winced.
"I know you better than I know myself. I know that you're already thinking of excuses and reasons to come over to my estate to introduce yourself to General Washington - you want a command just as badly as I do! Why don't you get a letter of introduction from one of the merchants that you work for and come over this evening?" John suggested, still laughing.
Alexander smiled bashfully. He had been thinking of ways that he might find himself in the same room as General Washington. He was sure that if he could only meet the man, he could impress him enough to get an officer's rank. If he could acquire a command, he would have a title in his own right. He could deserve Eliza on his own; he could deserve the respect of the upper class on his own. He could finally make something of himself.
"Not the merchants." He told John, shaking his head. "The General does not think much of merchants, beyond the goods they have to offer. If I'm not mistaken, I believe his stepson is a privateer."
John shrugged. He knew far less about General Washington than Alexander did. He didn't have to know as much; his name and wealth already gave him an advantage. "Who, then?"
"Perhaps one of my professors. They are more learned men, after all. They may be able to convince the General that I am an educated man worth employing in a higher rank than the average inductee." Alexander reasoned hopefully.
"That is, of course, better than my suggestion." John wrinkled his nose, pretending to be annoyed. Alexander saw right through the act. John had never been annoyed with him before. They were far too good of friends for that.
"I should wait for the Dean outside of his office." Alexander looked over his shoulder at the church regretfully. "I really meant to start back up with church, you know."
"I know." John agreed. His smile said otherwise.
Alexander smiled, too. "I'll be on my way, then. Would you let me know when I should stop by to meet the General? I shouldn't like to come by when he's in a foul mood. I've heard his temper leaves something to be desired."
"Why don't you come for dinner this evening? I'll be sure to serve plenty of wine. No one can be too foul tempered when there's good food and plentiful wine." John offered.
Alexander nodded, his brows furrowing. He resisted the temptation to bite at his fingernails. He was trying to break the habit, now that he was receiving chances to rise up in society.
"That should give me enough time to ask the Dean for a letter of recommendation. I believe he will hurry the task, if I tell him that I am to meet General Washington." He said.
"Good." John approved. "Then I shall see you this evening. Would you like for me to send a carriage?"
"No." Alexander replied. "I want to be honest with the General - I want him to know that I am an unpretentious man with a lot to gain from military service. I don't want him to think that I am a rich young man dallying in the military to pass the time."
"Hmm." John cast Alexander a sardonic smile. "I wonder which young men you could be talking about."
"You know that I do not mean you when I speak of entitled rich men." Alexander assured his friend, rolling his eyes. "You're different than all of them. Now, I really must be off. Goodbye, John."
"Goodbye, Alexander." John seemed to sigh as Alexander turned on his heel and hurried in the direction of King's College.
My dearest Miss Schuyler,
I do hope that my letter does not come as an unhappy intrusion. I have heard that a gentlemen ought to wait a suitable amount of time before imposing a letter upon a young lady, but I could not force myself to wait any longer. I long only to hear your voice. Alas, I have crossed out the last sentence, as I do not wish to beguile you with a lie. I long for more than your voice.
I long to see your face again.
I long for those beautiful dark eyes to be settled on me again.
I long to kiss those sweet lips again.
I long for you.
On perhaps a more welcomed subject, I am pleased to tell you that I intend to dine with General Washington this evening. I am hoping to join the rebel cause, serving under the finest man set forth by our country. I share this hope with you in the strictest of confidence - I wish for nothing more than a command in the military. I hope that if I can impress General Washington this evening, he will let me serve as one of his subordinate officers.
My darling Miss Schuyler, I hope that you will do me the honor of a letter. You may send it to my cousin's estate. He will pass on the post (though I must advise you to carefully pack your letter in a sturdy envelope - my cousin has been known to read others' letters through especially thin envelopes!).
Yours, if only in spirit,
Alexander
Alexander quickly sealed the letter to Eliza. He crossed the room and plucked his finest jacket - still not half as fine as the emerald jacket that Hercules had lent him for the ball - off of the coatrack in the corner of his dormitory room. He shrugged on the jacket and slipped the letter into his jacket pocket, along with the letter of introduction that the Dean had hastily written him after Alexander had fitfully explained the necessity of having it within the hour.
He then exited his room, sweeping down the hall with an air of importance that he had no right to. Other men in the halls waved and called out to him. Alexander smiled to himself. He was popular among his peers. He hoped that that popularity would translate when he joined the military.
He dropped the letter to Eliza in the basket at the front door of the dormitory. The postman would pick it up and distribute the letters the next day. Alexander took special care to ensure that he placed the correct letter in the basket - it wouldn't do to send Eliza a letter of introduction while General Washington received a love letter.
Once he was certain that the love letter would be sent to Eliza and the letter of introduction would remain with him, Alexander emerged from the dormitory. He hurried through the streets of New York towards the Laurens' estate. He would have to borrow a horse from the inn - John's house was nearly six miles away.
"Hello, Christopher." He walked past the inn towards the stables without stopping. The owner of the inn, Christopher Yaw, was dumping out a bucket of what might have been dirty water. "I'm going to borrow Firebrand."
"Hamilton." Christopher acknowledged him gruffly. "Water him down and bring him back before sun-up tomorrow. His owner doesn't like me loanin' him out to people."
"I know the rules." Alexander agreed, casting Christopher a smile. He walked into the stables and walked straight for the stall that he knew Firebrand was kept in. Firebrand's owner was typically drunk at the inn by nightfall; consequently, the horse had become Alexander's favorite to borrow. He always brought a carrot with him. Firebrand seemed to appreciate having a sober rider every once in a while.
He quickly tacked Firebrand and brought him out of the stable. Outside, he mounted the horse and rode off towards John's estate.
It was a peaceful ride, as was the case for most estates of wealthy people. Those who could afford to live outside of the chaotic city typically did. Alexander wasn't sure that he was meant to be wealthy, if it meant living uptown.
"Hamilton!" John called to him as he rode up the gravel walkway leading to his estate. Alexander did not miss that John used his last name to address him. He knew what that meant; General Washington was present.
John met Alexander as he dismounted. He held Firebrand's bridle, stroking the side of his face with a smile. Alexander smiled at the sight of him. He handed over the reins as a stable hand stepped forward to water down Firebrand.
"You must be Mr. Hamilton." A deep voice commanded Alexander's attention. Alexander's heart jumped into his throat as he turned to face the man who could determine his fate in a matter of seconds.
General Washington.
He looked younger than Alexander had expected him to. He was taller, too. He was dressed very simply for such a rich man. The only thing that matched Alexander's expectations was the way that he carried himself; with confidence, like a man with nothing left to prove.
"Your Excellency." Alexander bowed low. If he could have bowed low enough to scrape his nose against the dirt, he would have.
When he straightened his posture again, Alexander was startled to see that Washington was smiling. It was a slight smile, nothing too warm, but it was enough to make Alexander smile, too.
"Mr. Laurens speaks of little other than you." Washington remarked, still smiling slightly. Beside him, John's ears reddened. Alexander cast him a grateful look. "You must tell me about your studies over supper. I always imagined that I would like college very much, if I was given the chance to attend."
"Yes, sir. It is quite rewarding to allow oneself only academic burdens for a few select years." Alexander agreed.
"But you don't only have academic burdens, do you?" Washington looked over his shoulder as they began to walk back to John's estate. Alexander hurried to walk by his side. It was impolite to require a man like George Washington to look back at him. "John tells me that you work for the merchants."
"I don't consider that much of a deviation from learning, sir." Alexander answered quickly. He didn't want Washington to think that he was trying to hide anything about himself. "For I learn something new every day on that job. Just yesterday, I learned the value of a lemur from Madagascar."
"What is the value of a lemur?" Washington seemed amused.
"Sixty pounds." Alexander answered with a grin.
"And what is the approximate value of a barrel of whiskey?" Washington's smile turned into something beyond amusement. He was challenging Alexander, it seemed.
"About twenty pounds, give or take. Depends on the quality and the origin, sir." Alexander replied without a pause.
"And the value of one-hundred yards of linen?" Washington inquired as they stepped into the house. He removed his hat and overcoat. He looked around for a server to take both items from him. He seemed surprised when a white butler hustled forward with a bow.
"Seventy-six pounds, sir. Assuming that the linen is from England." Alexander spoke without delay yet again. He wondered why Washington was questioning him about the price of everything, but he would not let Washington see his confusion.
"Hm." Washington looked him over, appraising him. He then looked over at John and smiled. "You were right. Sharp as a tack."
John smiled at Alexander approvingly. They weren't making fun of him - this was good.
"Let us discuss this over supper." John recommended, gesturing towards the dining room. It was candlelit and set with an elaborate dinner. It looked finer than any of the times that Alexander had dined with John, just one-on-one.
All three men entered the dining room. John sat at the head of the table - a proper position for him while his father was away. Washington sat at John's right side. Alexander sat to his left.
"I've heard that you are a zealous advocate for revolution, Mr. Hamilton." Washington remarked as the first course was served. It was a small plate of cheese and grapes. It was terribly sophisticated. Alexander never ate more than one course on his own.
"Yes, sir." Alexander affirmed. He waited for John to eat first. He didn't know if rich people ate grapes with their hands, or with forks.
"Mr. Laurens tells me that you've been published in New York papers several times, refuting those who condemn the actions of our continental Congress." Washington continued as though he hadn't even heard Alexander. He popped a grape into his mouth with effortless confidence. Alexander hastened to do the same.
"Yes, sir." He mumbled, swallowing the grape and nodding furiously.
"I would be interested in reading your letter, if you still possess a copy." Washington said. He looked at Alexander right in this eyes, his gaze unflinching and unwavering. He was so sure of himself. Alexander envied that quality terribly.
"Yes, sir." Alexander agreed immediately. If he didn't have a copy, he would hand-copy the school library's edition of the newspaper. He would do anything to impress Washington.
"Good. I will have Mr. Laurens give you the address." Washington said, calmly sipping some of his tea. He had to know what a gift he was bequeathing. Permission to correspond with George Washington was very sought-after and rarely achieved.
"Yes, sir." Alexander responded. His voice sounded weak to his own ears.
Washington seemed amused by him. He seemed amused that Alexander was so grateful for every ounce of kindness that he was given. Alexander didn't mind Washington's evident amusement. He had heard far worse things about Washington's temperament and behavior. If laughing at him was the worst that Washington did, Alexander would be delighted.
Alexander looked down, hoping to eat a few more grapes before the next course. He so rarely got to enjoy fresh fruit that was not a few days overripe. When he looked down, he was surprised to see that the grapes were gone. They were shortly replaced by the second course, some sort of soup or porridge. Alexander tentatively dipped in his spoon and took a sip. It wasn't very good.
"How are your crops faring, General?" John finally cut into the conversation again. Alexander could not forget that John, too, wanted a job from Washington. John was guaranteed one, though. His breeding and schooling made him a prime candidate for an officer.
"Very well, thank you for asking." Washington's smile was authentic. He enjoyed talking about his crops. Alexander made a mental note of this. "I believe that my tobacco crops will be quite fine this year. I have planted a new crop this year, as well. It's a strand of grapes that comes from the Spanish colonies."
"Is that right?" John knew more about agriculture than Alexander did, but only barely. "How are they looking?"
"Very good, I believe. It is hard to tell when one cannot go to the country of origin and witness their growth and the best techniques to grow them with. It's something of an experiment in every sense." Washington chuckled.
John laughed, too. Alexander just smiled. He didn't want to impose himself on John's opportunity to ingratiate himself with Washington. After all, John had already done him a massive favor in orchestrating their introduction.
The rest of the evening proceeded on in that manner. Washington and John spoke of little other than agriculture and horticulture, while Alexander made himself as amiable as he could. Washington would occasionally ask him a question, which Alexander always knew the answer to. Washington would always smile when Alexander got an answer right. It was a private smile, one that let everyone know that the reason he was smiling was much less obvious that what they could glean from the interaction.
After dinner, the three men walked around the Laurens estate. Washington complimented John on some plant that Alexander did not recognize. Alexander added his own compliments, though John would know that they were not genuine.
It was nearly nine o'clock when Washington suggested leaving. He kept early hours, he said, and still had to write his wife a letter before the night was out. He seemed to gentle, if only slightly, at the mention of his wife. Alexander made a note of this. If given the opportunity to meet Mrs. Washington, he would have to impress her.
"Thank you for an enjoyable evening, Mr. Laurens." Washington said as he stood on the doorstep. His carriage was behind him. He nodded to John. John bowed in response. "I should like to send you a letter of employment, if you are still desirous of becoming one of my aides."
"Yes, sir." John agreed willingly.
Alexander wanted to be happy for his friend, but he couldn't help but notice the way that his heart sank. He wanted to be offered that job. He wanted to be offered any job, really.
"Mr. Hamilton." Washington addressed him. He nodded again. Alexander bowed lower than John, even. "You earned every bit of testimony that Mr. Laurens had given on your behalf prior to our introduction. I hope that I will be able to find a use for you in my camp very soon."
"Yes, sir." Alexander was disappointed that he wasn't being offered a job, like John was, but there was still hope. Washington had been impressed enough with him to keep him as an option.
"Gentlemen." Washington bowed this time. It was a very respectful gesture. The man seemed to inevitably know and abide by every rule of etiquette without a second thought. "Good evening."
"Good evening." Alexander and John echoed as he climbed into his carriage.
As Washington's carriage clattered off down the driveway, John turned to Alexander. Even in the dark, Alexander could see his breathless smile.
"Did that really just happen?" John wondered, still smiling.
"Congratulations." Alexander said. He almost meant it.
"I'll petition for you from the moment that I arrive at camp, of course." John set to work reassuring Alexander. "You'll be Colonel Hamilton in no time at all!"
Alexander returned the smile, somewhat hesitantly. He did not doubt that John would speak highly of him to Washington, but he doubted that he would be permitted to join the club that seemed to favor the wealthy.
"Come," John seemed to sense Alexander's cynicism. He clapped Alexander's shoulder with his hand, still smiling. "There is still much wine and food left in the kitchen. Let us celebrate and formulate a plan for getting you at camp with me!"
Alexander smiled blearily as he followed John back to the mansion.