Chapter 2 – A Friend In Need

At home in his palatial mansion, Monticello, Thomas Jefferson was preening before the full-length mirror in his private dressing room. He was trying to find the "right" look and for the dozenth time, he adjusted the burgundy beret perched atop his head. He considered the new angle, frowned slightly and turned the hat slightly to the left. He paused to consider this, and finally frowned at the mirror again. Determined to get the proper look, Jefferson turned the hat slightly to the right and adjusted the angle. It was important to get the proper position from the start.

Mr. Jefferson was enjoying every minute with his new beret. After an interminable wait of several months, the beret had just arrived with a shipment of vintage wines and books from Paris. These new prizes from France had brightened his downcast mood after the recent visit from the penny-pinching accountant Drake Marley. Certainly, Marley would never have approved these purchases, but Jefferson choose not to think of that. He seldom wore hats but was eager to make an exception today. His new beret was the latest style on the continent. His domestic duties kept him far from the culture and sophistication of France. But today he could dress the part of a proper Frenchman and feel a bit closer to his French comrades by wearing the beret. He repositioned the beret yet again and lifted his chin slightly. Yes, that was the look, very European.

A soft knock on the dressing room door drew his attention from the mirror, "What is it?" he demanded harshly.

The door cracked open slightly and one of the house servants softly announced, "Mr. Madison is waiting downstairs to see you, sir."

Jefferson's mood suddenly brightened. His dear friend and protégé Jemmy, would appreciate this fine accessory of French fashion. He said, "See that Mr. Madison is made comfortable and I shall be down shortly."

A few moments later Jefferson pranced into his guest reception room. The new beret was conspicuously positioned on his head, "Bonjour!" he called to his friend, James Madison.

Madison turned from the window, a cup of tea in his hand, "Well, well, well," he said with a widening grin, "is that a new beret I spy resting atop your regal head?"

Before Jefferson could answer, a servant entered with a saucer and cup of tea, "Put that down you buffoon," Jefferson scolded the man, "Can't you see I am modeling? Now get out!"

The frightened servant rushed out closing the door behind him. Jefferson turned his attention back to Madison, "Well, Jemmy," he said and pivoted first to the left, and after a pause back to the right, "What do you think?"

Madison set down his tea and fixed a critical eye on Jefferson's head. Jefferson strutted about the room while Madison rubbed his chin and frowned, "Well. Thomas…." He began and then trailed off.

Jefferson paused, a crestfallen look began creeping across his face as he waited for his friend's critique. He was not prepared for anything less than a stellar review.

Suddenly Madison smiled broadly, "Stunning Thomas, simply stunning. A pity we cannot take a leisurely stroll through the streets of Paris."

Jefferson frowned slightly and replied, "Yes, pity indeed. These colonials cannot appreciate the example I am setting for them."

Madison mirrored Jefferson's frown, "True Thomas, but I envy you. It would be quite impossible for me to carry off such a look, while you naturally present yourself as a sophisticated man of the world."

Jefferson's head bounced slightly from side-to-side as he suppressed a satisfied grin, "Guilty as charged," he said, then added, "but you underestimate yourself dear man, and I cannot wait to show you're the last volumes I have added to my library."

"I am breathless with anticipation," Jemmy replier cheerily.

Then suddenly Jefferson sank into an overstuffed chair and sighed deeply, his voice cracked with emotion, "Thank you Jemmy, I do appreciate your encouragement. Things have been rather difficult here."

Madison seated himself in a nearby chair, "Your spirits do seem a bit down."

Jefferson stared across the room and did not appear to have heard the remark.

"Is this because of Marley?" Madison asked softly.

Jefferson instantly leapt to his feet as if he had sat on a tack, "What did you say?" he sternly demanded.

Madison was too shucked by this reaction to answer his friend.

Jefferson's face flushed red and nearly matched his beret. He struggled to restrain his temper and finally spit out, "What have you heard?"

Madison shrunk slightly into his own chair, "Nothing at all. But I know that Drake Marley visited you last week. I also know that your man Brute sold several of your more prized servants at the auction last Saturday."

Jefferson stared at the floor and his lower lip began to quiver.

"Knowing you as I do dear friend," Madison continued, "it appears you are trying to raise some capital."

Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, Jefferson's lanky frame collapsed into his chair and began whimpering softly while dapping his eyes with a silk handkerchief.

An alarmed Madison leapt to his feet and gently rubbed his friend's back, "Now, now, Thomas, let's have none of that," he said softly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Jefferson whimpered and bent forward to hide his face.

Madison rang the servant's bell on the side table and when the door cracked open, he called, "Bring the master some wine, immediately."

Suddenly Jefferson clutched Madison's hand, "The French 32," Jefferson whispered.

"Bring the French 32, immediately!" Madison shouted to the servant who nodded and silently and closed the door.

A short time later after several sips of a superior French wine, Jefferson had somewhat regained his composure. He explained the details of Marley's visit and Madison listened intently. When Jefferson finished, Jemmy shook his head sadly and fretted, "Ghastly news, just ghastly."

After a pause, Madison added, "I can assure you dear friend, none in our circle suspect your… financial distress." The last two words were nearly a whisper.

Jefferson jumped to his feet and took a deep drink from a crystal wine goblet, "Don't use that phrase, Jemmy. It distresses me."

"How thoughtless of me," Madison replied apologetically.

Jefferson choked back a sob, "It's a nightmare Jemmy. How am I to go on without literature, art, wine? What shall I be reduced too?"

"We shall find a way," Madison replied without any idea of how to help his friend.

Suddenly Jefferson straightened up and his voice hardened, "Yes, I will find a way. In fact, I have something already in mind. Pour another drink while we ponder my next move."

TO BE CONTINUED in Chapter 3: A Mound of Trouble