Chapter 19: France

November 19, 1785

"Goodbye, Papa," she mumbled, kissing his cheek. Bennett and Ettie, holding their nephew and niece respectively by the hand, shared half-smiles as Lafayette took his son from his brother's arms. Hugging him briefly, the marquis pulled back with a smile. Georges clung to his father's leg although he regarded his uncle with a bright smile.

"Stay safe, Genny." He whispered back and they parted. The waters shifted and she winced, knowing that the ever-looming departure was just upon them. A pang of sadness hammered on her soul - the Schuylers weren't there to see her off. Angelica had moved to Europe two years ago, Eliza was pregnant, and Peggy was off with John at an important meeting about slavery. The youngest Schuyler was an activist for the equality of all men, often dining with, and more often than not, criticising those she ate with for owning slaves.

Genevieve could remember the look on George Washington's face when a much-shorter Peggy Schuyler reprimanded him for not freeing his own slaves.

A bittersweet smile surfaced on her face and she swallowed difficulty. This time, she had not even the slightest if she was going to come back.

"I love you, Genny," Ettie gave her niece a hug and let her hand go, hugging her older sister before pulling back with a small smile though tears lurked beyond her eyes. Brushing a curl of blonde hair behind Ettie's ear, Genevieve kissed her sister's forehead.

Bye bye, Auntie Ettie," Emmeline mumbled reluctantly, not wanting to leave the now-eighteen year old woman. Hercules, surprisingly, hugged her as well after a teary embrace with his best friend. "Hercules!"

"Hey, sweetheart," he greeted, picking Emmeline up and throwing her into the air before placing her back down onto the floor. "Have fun in France, alright?"

"Okay," she promised and went back towards her mother, half-hiding in her skirts as she reached up to hold her mom's hand.

"You going to come back?" He asked and Genevieve shrugged, peeking at her daughter's face. Emmeline was watching her grandfather, waving with a smile. "Stay safe, keep Laf outta trouble."

"I'll try," she agreed and finally, had to tear herself away lest the ship leave without them. "Goodbye," Lafayette's arms rested across her shoulders as they boarded the ship. Tears crawled down her cheeks as they pulled out of port. Leaning over the side, she waved and kept waving as they screamed after her.

"Goodbye!" Lafayette yelled finally once they were little more than just specks at the harbour. Emmeline reached towards her father who took her hand and they went under to their room. It was cramped, yes, but nothing they haven't lived in before. In fact, it was much better than some days out in the open. Their trunks already inside, Genevieve sat down on the bed as Lafayette gave Georges to his mother. Her son immediately hugged her neck, getting quite good at not letting go.

"Laf?" He hummed, turning around from where he was patting his daughter on the back. She seemed a bit tuckered out and sad that she was leaving the only home she knew. Genevieve felt a pang of guilt - her daughter would not like France at first. She prayed that Emmeline would quickly adjust. With a quirked eyebrow and crooked smile, he gave her his full attention., "What's going to happen once we reach Paris?" The smile shrunk and she had a terrible feeling.

"Hopefully nothing wrong," he said. Sighing, he gazed at his daughter, tracing the curve of her tiny nose. Already, he saw so much of his wife in her. The blonde-brown strands definitely came from Genevieve's family. He thought back to Bennett's light hair and Ettie's completely golden locks.

"Hopefully?" Genevieve echoed. "Well, if a revolution breaks out, I hope they know who to call." She tried to joke but a weak laugh was all it drew out of him.

"Just… don't speak unless spoken to," he sat down next to her after a few minutes of pacing. "The queen is bound to show an interest in you - do not wear a revealing dress but do not wear one that shows off nothing, she will call you a prude."

"Why do I have to go? I'm sure you can deal with them yourself."

"The King wants to meet you and, if we are to be honest, I will not make it through the meeting if you are not there."

"Great," she muttered, kissing her son's temple before bringing him down into her lap again. He gently patted his sister's arm who giggled happily when she saw him. "The image of a perfect wife. My absolute favourite duty," her sarcasm was not lost on him.

"I know, love, but it'll only be for a few hours I hope." She rolled her eyes as her kids began a conversation only interesting to them.

"Hope? Right," she scoffed, "because fate adores us." Kissing her on the lips this time, Lafayette got up and left his children by the bed. "But, I'll do it. Because I love you."

"We'll be fine." She shot him a doubtful glance.

He was always a terrible liar.

.

They had a quick dinner of dried meats before the sun began to set. Walking on the deck, Genevieve and Lafayette held their children by the hand as they watched the crew at work. Georges ran up to every man, most not too busy for the curious three year old while Emmeline begged to be picked up by her father.

Ever the willing servant, Lafayette carried his daughter to the edge of the boat. "Watch the sun, ma petite," he murmured and Genevieve smiled slightly at how adorable they looked. Holding Georges' small hand in hers, the brunette walked up to stand next to her husband. "Is it not beautiful?"

"It is," Emmeline assured, smiling as purple stained the sky. "Papa, I love sunsets!"

"As your mother loves sunrises." He casted his wife a glance and she shook her head to herself. Those days when they watched sunrises on his neighbor's roof were long gone. "Georges, come here," and hauling his son up, he made sure he could see as well. Genevieve placed her arms around her son's middle, scared that he could fall in the sea.

"Be careful, they aren't made of stone yet." She teased, kissing his jaw. Watching the sun set, she already missed home. Longing for the soft sheets of their apartment or the crib they had built themselves, she leaned against Lafayette.

"I know," he said without her saying anything. The Frenchman had done so much in America - it was his home too. "I miss Hercules and Alexander already."

"Not John?" A spark in her eyes and he chuckled.

"Maybe not just yet." He amended and she sighed, rubbing her son's chest.

"I miss all of them. Do you think… we can maybe visit Angelica in London? Or if she comes to France, we can see her?"

"Of course," he promised, "Do you hear that?" He asked his children who raised their heads sleepily. "You might see your Aunt Angelica." Picking up his daughter, he shuffled her up until her head rested on his shoulder. Genevieve was just about to do the same with Georges but he protested loudly. Setting him on the floor, he held her hand and on unsteady, tired feet, they began to slowly make their way towards their room.

"I can do it, Mama,"

"I know, sweetheart."

"Who's Auntie… An-gelic-a?" Emmeline said slowly, trying to remember the name as Lafayette kissed his daughter right behind her ear. "Papa, is she nice?"

"She's your mother's best friend."

"I thought Auntie Peggy and Auntie Eliza were Mama's best friends." Genevieve rolled her eyes playfully as Georges nearly fell off his feet. Swooping him up, the green-eyed woman felt him fall asleep as soon as he got into a comfortable position.

"Well, you can have more than one best friend, Emmeline," Genevieve murmured to her daughter who blinked her green eyes back at her mom from Lafayette's shoulder. "Like your papa - he's my best friend too. And his best friends are Uncle John, Uncle Alex and Uncle Hercules. You can have many friends."

"You are my best friend, Mama," Georges mumbled suddenly and Genevieve, heart warmed, snuggled her son closer to her. Emmeline's mouth twisted into a slight frown at her brother's sleepiness and words before hugging her father's neck.

"Then Papa is my best friend." They finally arrived at their room and they set their children down beside each other.

"We can all be best friends tomorrow morning, alright?" Genevieve promised, bringing the blankets up on them. The sea wind was sure to chill them if they weren't careful. "Goodnight - we'll be just across if you need us."

"Bonne nuit," Emmeline sighed, turning towards her brother who was already acting dead in his sleep. Lafayette grinned at his daughter's French, pride radiating from him in an aura.

"Bonne nuit," Lafayette whispered as Genevieve crossed the room and crawled into bed after a kiss on both their foreheads. He did the same, making sure the blanket was covering them one last time before sliding into his wife's open arms. Extinguishing the candle, he embraced her in the bed and she could barely hold back a snort. Although she was shorter than him, even the female soldier had to bend her knees to fit on the bed. Meanwhile, he had to completely curl up. The laugh curled at her lip and he kissed that smile.

Holding his hand, her thumb brushed over that ring because she could never get over it. He, in turn, brought the beautiful pale gold ring to his lips to press a kiss against it. His heartbeat - or was it hers? - pounded in her ears as it eventually slowed, reminding her of a tired horse's thumping beat.

"When you said you had managed to scrounge up two beds, I had thought they'd be more… adequately sized," she whispered and he sent her a playfully foul glance. "Not that I'm complaining," she added just to tease him more. The ship rose and fell as a wave swept underneath the creaking wood.

"Money cannot magically expand a wooden ship, ma chérie," the words vibrated near her ear in his throat more than it did escape through his mouth. It was so hard to be quiet…

"Oh, but you wish." He winced when she shifted. Wrapping her arms around him, she made more room and heard his slightly relieved sigh.

"If only I had you to myself tonight."

"You know just as well as I do that as soon as we learned that we were to have children, we would never have each other to just ourselves again." She reminded him and he nodded. "But," a slight smile again, "God, it was worth it." She thought of Emmeline's sparkling green eyes and Georges who had Lafayette's large smile.

"Indeed," he brushed his nose against her temple, eyes closing, "it was."

December 20, 1785

Once they arrived, she wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. While she knew France to be welcoming and warm according to many politicians, John Adams included, Genevieve found nothing of the sort. Even though the city was alive with men and women and children all going about their daily lives, she found everything… made her uncomfortable.

It was definitely not the fact that she barely knew French. Lafayette, after all, made it to where he was now through broken English and a determination that could not be diminished. Clearly, one could survive in a place where almost no one spoke their mother tongue.

It was most definitely the people. The hostility was not going unnoticed by them and only then did she realize being married to a man who led a revolution to overthrow one king would not be welcomed warmly by the citizens ruled by yet another. Something dropped in her gut, a horrible feeling that these next few years will not be as easy as they had wished.

Her two children were completely unsuspecting but she distanced herself from Lafayette. If politics were already in play and her husband was public enemy number one, then she'd have to play her cards carefully.

"Don't bother," she whispered when he tried to take her arm as they walked down the ramp. The water was a dark, unforgiving blue-green as fish in rough knotted rope nets flailed and thrashed. His eyes were full of confusion but she just gave a sharp, jerking shake of her head. "If we're to meet a King, I hate to say it, but politics is something that will determine life or death." A slight smile that only he saw, "Unfortunately, it isn't your forte."

"It's not yours either." He retorted swiftly.

"You grew up being an aristocrat, Lafayette but I've attended many meetings and such with the Schuyler sisters as an adult. I know enough - perhaps more than you do for once." Sure enough, but reluctantly, he pulled away. It continued in relative silence as Georges and Emmeline chattered, not really caring if they got a response.

As they passed by citizens with darkened masks and furrowed brows, she spotted him and Genevieve completely forgot what she had said only minutes before. Granted, it was for a good reason.

"Oh, my god. The rumours… they were correct?"

"I am sorry, this is not what I expected."

"Seeing as we saw Monticello, I have to say this is what I expected if I knew he was the one we'd be meeting. It is him, right?"

"Oui. And I may or may not have known already."

"What?"

"Washington recommended him. I'm sorry, I - I thought I mentioned this."

"Clearly you did not. I swear to God, if my children have to witness the violence I could possibly inflict on this man," she took in a deep breath from her rambling before muttering, "So God help me."

"What man, Papa?" Georges asked curiously and Lafayette smiled sheepishly.

"A friend," he answered, "I would appreciate it if you did not use such words in front of my children," the marquis added to his wife who sent him a smoldering glower.

"I would appreciate it," she mocked, "if you did not keep secrets from me. And those are my children, if you forgot who gave birth to them." Her foul mood was an unlucky combination of a slight cold, the need to regain land legs, and that the minister of France was already someone she felt like she would dislike when she saw what he was wearing.

These words were exchanged as they made their way towards the flamboyant, bright magenta-clad man who sported an expensive looking cane. Compared to all the whites, pastels and other more dull colours, the magenta really made him… a special flower indeed. Blinking, she tried to think that she imagined it.

"An honor to meet you, good sir," she plastered a pleasant smile on her face as he took her hand and kissed it just as she curtseyed. The lean man smiled crookedly before releasing it and shaking hands with Lafayette.

"Monsieur and Madame Lafayette. It's an honor to be in your presence," he said, laying it on thick and, Genevieve, already having zero tolerance, crossed her arms. The Virginian drawl still quite prominent in his French, the brunette found it hard to like the man. She understood that it was a joke, but God, there were important things to do… like meeting with the King, getting to Paris, actually getting a decent night of rest. Despite what she felt, Lafayette clearly liked that he had found a friend in a hostile environment.

"Thomas."

"It's good to see you, Lafayette. Snagged yourself a wife, too, haven't you?"

Feeling irritated, she gave him her sweetest smile that hid a thinly-veiled threat. One that said, Repeat that again and you'll find a bullet in your head. The knife against her thigh pressed against her skin. She had not let the blade her husband had given her out of her sight since and she knew that it was just a layer of security that calmed her. "Of course he has. Although, it would do you some good if you learned that others have ears and opinions."

"Has a spirit, doesn't she? I believe my sources said your name was-

"Genevieve Alcott, formerly. Now the new marquise de Lafayette. And if my deductions are correct," her tone was tired, bored, even, "you're Thomas Jefferson."

He gave her a half-assed bow before returning upright with a cocky smile.

She did not feel the need to acknowledge the gesture.

"Gen, he's the ambassador to France." Lafayette explained as though that would somehow change her opinion of him.

"Yes, I know. John Adams has briefed me on the comings and goings of such diplomatic affairs. In his last letter, he had mentioned that you had replaced Benjamin Franklin," she waved her hand as if it were nothing - as if the ties between an ordinary tavern owner's daughter and one of America's most influential people was commonplace. "Now," her tone was crisp, although a bit stuffy as Georges hid a smile in his mother's skirts because, really, this strange man's face was funny. "I believe a coach awaits?" Jefferson nodded, gesturing to the direction of the stables.

"This way." Genevieve nodded before smiling at her children.

"Emmeline, Georges, come on," she held out her hands and they each took one before they skipped along, their mother in between them. Jefferson, in step with Lafayette, watched with a bit of embarrassment.

"That is your first lesson in learning that my wife is my equal," Lafayette informed a bit cooly, "You do not treat her as an object that I had picked carelessly off a shelf." They arrived at the stables where a coachmen was grooming the horses. "You will be straightforward with my wife as you will be with me. She is not a simpleton, she is not one with an idle mind. You will treat her as an equal and if not, you will find a knife in your back very quickly." The insinuation could be taken literally or figuratively and Jefferson regarded his friend's wife with a slight bit of fear.

"I'm afraid my first chance is wasted." Jefferson replied tactfully, "But whatever the marquis calls for, I will do. After all," there was a twinkle in his eyes, "why else would George Washington recommend me?"

"I'm already sick of you," he said frankly and the American let out a laugh. "My valet will bring the luggage after our trip - there is a long way ahead of us."

"Indeed," they reached the coach. Genevieve was watching her children talk to the coachmen but as the two men finally approached, she called them back. Jefferson opened the door for her with an unneeded sweep of the arm once again. Offering a hand, Thomas bowed slightly but Genevieve just took her children, hoisting them in first before hitching up her skirts and climbing in.

Jefferson's hand fell limp and he straightened up, staring after her. Lafayette could barely hold back a laugh as he climbed in beside her. Taking Emmeline into his lap just as Georges settled in his mother's lap, Lafayette leaned against the back of the coach, watching as Jefferson closed the door behind him and sat across from them. He adjusted his waistcoat, settling his cane beside him.

Straight to business.

"How bad is it, Thomas?"

Jefferson glanced out the window as the coach began to move with a slight jolt. The wheels clacked on the cobblestones and the horses let out whickers as the snap of the reigns echoed in their ears. The carriage shook slightly as they made their way out of the town. "How much have you heard?" He countered weakly. In a matter of moments, Thomas Jefferson seemed to age right before their very eyes. Genevieve wrapped her arms around Georges' middle.

"Enough to know that France is on the border of revolution," Genevieve said softly. "News doesn't travel quickly across the ocean but…"

"We've heard," Lafayette's hand sought hers and she gave it to him in comfort. "The unrest in the streets, how the king is spending more money than he has."

"We're in financial ruins." Thomas informed bluntly, "Supply and demand," a wave of the hand as he leans forward, elbows digging into his knees. "Prices are too high, the inability to trade as the money is worth nothing. People are starving; they are dying and they are angry. Who is there to blame?"

"The King," Lafayette sighed, rubbing his free hand over his face. His daughter listened although she could barely understand the exact situation.

"And we are summoned, why?" Genevieve asked. Despite her expecting Jefferson to answer, Lafayette did instead.

"The King has wanted me to return for some while - word had reached to him that I was newly wed and free to come back to my country. I was going to tell you… but the war was just won. And you-"

"I was pregnant," she said, understanding. She squeezed his hand. "The important thing is that we're here now." She turned to Jefferson. "We have one hell of a mess to try and clean up."

"Unfortunately," there was a grim smile that did not suit well on the ambassador's face, "the fuse is already lit. It's only a matter of time before blood will be shed." She closed her eyes, bracing herself for the long trip to Paris. Georges tugged at her hair lightly. "I'm sorry," it sounded genuine and she opened her eyes, giving him a tight smile although it looked more like her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Mama, you okay?" Her son inquired softly and she tried to smile but it came out feeling fake and unpleasant.

"Just fine," she lied, "We'll be just fine."

But when Lafayette met her eyes, even he could see how hollow her words were.

A/N: The beginning of ACT II y'all. And just like in the play, Thomas Jefferson appears! I'm sorry this update was late, I had a big project to do for school. Anyway, I'm really active on tumblr lately so if you guys wanna send writing prompts/requests then go for it through an ask.

REVIEWS:

stranger ways: There's still some fluff ;)

Guest: That's what I'm aiming to do. But thanks anyway for the review

Strawberry Cat: Awh, that's extremely sweet of you to do! Thank you for enjoying this that much.