A/N: Hey peeps! Wazzup? Hope you are feeling much better than I am right now - I've spent most of the day freezing and exhausted in bed with a sore throat and a headache and a stomach ache and constantly sneezing. But! That gave me a chance to write this. It makes me feel a little better, so don't you go worrying about me :) I hope it can make you feel a little better too! Thank you so much for reading this!
Chapter 4: When I've lost my way - Part IV
Paris, Spring 1787
The American Ambassador to France did not disappoint in any area in which he had pledged his services, much to the relief and jubilation of his newly instated muse and confidante. He and Angelica Church took to regular calls to one another's homes for nothing more scandalous than revelling in good company and exchanging the occasional risque comment, and for the most part, that quenched the businessman's wife's thirst for intelligent companionship, and for a man who was entirely willing to shower her with the attentive admiration that her own husband so regularly denied her without even realising that he consistently failed to notice her.
Perhaps it was simply that she had been a traveller lost in drastically inhospitable territory and he was a lake of cool, clean water ready to satisfy her desires and wash away all traces of discomfort and dejection. Or perhaps it was that she had some carnal longing buried deep within her soul which only those intelligent enough to ignite it could unlock. No matter the cause, she could neither explain or deny the fact that, much as she knew it was morally wrong, she began to want something more.
But she was in good company when it came to developing an inappropriate fondness for the man, as Maria Cosway often reminded her when they met, with a carefree laugh and the obstinate assurance, "Who could blame either you or I for being so fond of a man with an ounce of sense when we have both been bound to husbands who have none to speak of?"
In her own home, Angelica remained reserved about responding to the rhetorical question, but in the parlour of her most trusted confidante and dearest friend in Europe, she engaged in the harmless criticism, reluctantly confessing, "I admit, sometimes I find pouring over an old letter or two to be far more riveting than actually talking to John."
Maria nodded good-naturedly and recalled, "That's right, you have your own source of entertainment sending you regular letters, don't you?" She knew some of Angelica's sorry tale of her sister's glorious husband, and she had assumed the remainder, arriving at a conclusion which was not too far from reality.
"Yes," the Church woman confirmed, growing curious as she watched Maria's brow crease in concentration. "Why do you ask?"
"I wonder if your heart is perhaps tethered to those you have left behind, so much so that you are unable to allow anyone else to steal into your affections while you are here." She spoke confidently, certain that her friend would not chastise her bold, prying enquiry.
Sure enough, Angelica only sighed with an air of disconsolation, and gave a vague reply to the question, "I do miss my family, my darling Betsey and her Hamilton. I wish I could be with them, it is true, but I can not make myself believe that I made the wrong choice." In accompanying my husband like a sentient piece of subservient luggage, in allowing my dear little sister to marry the man she adores, in running away from the torturous pain of being so infuriatingly close to the tangible possibility of having Alexander Hamilton without actually being able to make him mine. "In that sense, I know with all of my heart that it is right for me to be here."
"But that does not guarantee your heart is truly here with you," Mrs Cosway gently pointed out, her joviality replaced by unexpected sincerity without a warning. "Until you stop longing to be elsewhere and in different company, you will never find satisfaction. And you do deserve to be happy and content, my dear friend."
Angelica felt compelled to smile by the sweet words, but it was tinged with sadness as she lamented, "It is not as easy as all that, there are always more people than just myself to consider in every decision. And besides, even if I did settle here, you know as well as I do that there is nothing at all to stand in the way of my husband if he decides suddenly that he would rather live elsewhere. And then I would have to experience the same thing over and over again, just like you are," she indicated a trunk in the corner of the modest room, just one of many littered around the Cosway residence, packed to the brim as the couple prepared to depart from Paris on a whim of Maria's husband. Reaching for Maria's hand, she murmured, "I cannot believe you're leaving. How on earth will I cope without you?"
A smirk beginning to return to her thin lips, Maria teased, "I think we both know a certain someone who would be only too glad to soften the blow."
The elder woman rolled her eyes with a chuckle and, though she would have claimed it was simply a trick of the light if she had been questioned over it, a delicate rosy hue flooded her cheeks. Her voice gave no indication of being flustered, however, and she retorted with sarcasm, "Yes, I'm sure Thomas would love to hold me while I cry over you, if only to have the chance to touch me without being pushed away."
"I think he would," Maria remarked offhandedly, "And I also think you'd appreciate that more than you want to let yourself believe."
Scoffing at the direction their conversation had taken, Angelica insisted, "I know exactly what Mr Jefferson wants, and I know that it is not something I am at liberty to give." Though, you are right - I would relish being with him, if only I were able to be.
With fond exasperation, Maria declared, "You and him are made for one another." At Angelica's stunned expression, she scolded, "Don't give me that outraged face, just hear me out: you are clearly infatuated with him, and no matter who else may have stolen a piece of your heart, that is not something you can ignore. And then, you profess your boredom with your marriage, yet when the perfect opportunity arises, you make no move to capitalize on Thomas' affection for you. Honestly, you know I adore you, but you are impossible, Mrs Schuyler Church!"
She sighed, leaving her friend time to cock an eyebrow and sceptically ask, "How exactly does you berating me justify your ridiculous claim that Jefferson and I are destined for one another?"
"I was just reaching that before you interrupted, my dear Angie. Now as I was saying before you started questioning me, you are impossible, and so is he. You are both so stubborn, so obsessed with masking your true feelings, it's infuriating! There you are, obsessed with protecting your image by denying yourself the pleasure which I guarantee you Jefferson would be more than delighted to grant you, and there he is, determined to portray himself as that confident, self-assured charmer who cannot be fazed, when I know that he possesses such a capacity for sensitivity." Shaking her head in despair, she moaned emphatically, "I can not handle the two of you separately. You belong together, so that both of you can finally be hedonistic and bold enough to confess your true emotions and lose those awful pretences for good."
Angelica took a few seconds to respond, absorbing the lessons which Maria had just forced upon her. When she did, it was with the mild comment, "I will miss your frankness. You aren't afraid to speak your mind, it's admirable, truly."
Maria nodded, saying nothing, but shifting into the more reticent side of her personality. They remained in silence for a little while, until the artist mumbled under her breath, "You're too kind, and I'm undeserving of your praise." Angelica's inquisitive gaze begged an explanation, and Maria couldn't help but oblige, bashfully admitting, "I have been afraid to speak. I haven't told him. I couldn't."
Angelica's forehead creased again, pulling together her thoughts to reach the realization:
Thomas does not know she is leaving.
She opened her mouth to ask why, but Maria openly volunteered the information without hesitation, keen to get it off her chest by confessing her reasoning to a person who would not only understand but who might also be able to help. Speaking slowly, she revealed, "I know Thomas very well. He's fragile, beneath his bravado, and there is a deep void of sorrow within him. There has been ever since his wife died, and although I naturally want to ease the pain of my dear friend, I cannot allow his happiness to become dependent on me - I move around so much, I doubt I will even see him again once I leave. So I have tried to distance myself from him, in the hope that he will not even notice me slipping away." There was a note of desperation in her voice, as if she was trying to convince herself that it was so.
But her companion knew otherwise, and she also knew that lying to yourself could only ever lead to more pain. And so, she calmly insisted, "He will notice, and you must realize that. It will be easier for both of you if you warn him, and say goodbye properly. Finish everything, and then even if you never meet again, you will not leave him regretting that he did not get to see you before you left." After all you've undoubtedly been, you owe him this courtesy, Maria, she added silently.
The other woman pondered her friend's words, weighing up the positives against the negatives. Eventually, she decided, "Very well. I will warn him, this evening, just before I leave." A trace of panic crossing her gaze, she frantically pleaded, "Angelica, you must make sure he copes. Visit him, dry his tears, for the sake of our friendship if not for yours with him."
The idea of seeing the American Ambassador to France in his most vulnerable state made the usually verbose woman's mouth turn dry. And yet, how could she let her best friend worry over Jefferson's wellbeing for however long it took for a letter to confirm he was managing just fine to reach her? And more than that, she felt a stirring of helpless remorse when she imagined Thomas weeping on his own. So she nodded, squeezed Maria's hand, and assured, "Of course. Anything for my darling friend."
Maria grinned, a radiant expression which exuded gratitude, and murmured, "Thank you. You are indescribable, do you know that?"
Returning a playful smirk, Angelica remarked idly, "I try."
Though there had been much laughter and mirth exchanged between the two women, their afternoon concluded in a tearful embrace which left Angelica restless at the very imminent departure of the artist. She busied herself around the house as much as she could, but no amount of embroidery or literature could distract her from the feeling of unease within her, both at the prospect of losing Maria Cosway and at the memory of her recent promise regarding Thomas Jefferson.
She knew exactly how to combat her dejected anxiety, however. And the sun had not fully dipped below the horizon before she made her way to visit him, tracing the same picturesque route he had shown her a few weeks previously, before she had become deeply and irrevocably attached to Mr Jefferson.
But when she arrived at his home, she was invited in by a maid and lead to his salon only to discover he was not alone. Dismissing the servant and lingering on the external side of the wooden panel, Angelica couldn't resist listening to what was being said:
"Of course, I understand. It is not your choice to leave, it is the decision of that fool, Richard." A hint of bitterness entered Thomas' voice, however he audibly forced himself to regain some composure as he continued, "I am glad you warned me."
"You have our dearest Angelica to thank for that," the second voice, easily identifiable as Maria's, admitted.
"Angelica?" Thomas sounded surprised.
"Yes. She has promised me she will ease any pain you might feel at my departure through all methods she has at her disposal," Maria informed him, matter-of-factly.
A chuckle, and then the bemused remark, "You are sending your friend to take your place, knowing how fond of her I am? You truly are leaving us behind, aren't you." It was unclear whether he meant us as in reference to his relationship with Maria or his potential romance with Angelica, but either would fit, given the circumstances.
Sighing, Maria decided, "Whatever you believe, this is not easy for me. I do care about you, because you are a very dear friend to me, but that is all. And as for Mrs Church, if I did not love her so much I should fear her rivalship. But no, I give you free permission to love her with all your heart."
Angelica's jaw dropped, her own sturdy heart trembling at the mere mention of love. She knew Maria had advised her on many occasions to indulge in some extramarital activity with Thomas, but never had love been part of that deal. It was always based on physical attraction and being intellectually matched. And yet to Thomas, the gifted young painter suggested something else entirely.
Silence followed, and after a moment, Angelica heard footsteps drawing closer. With no time to hide, she tried to feign innocence as Maria pushed open the door and regarded her with surprise, which swiftly became comprehension. Voice low to leave Jefferson oblivious to his latest guest, she inferred, "You heard?"
"You think he could love me? That I could love him?" Angelica checked with palpable disbelief, stunned somewhat but matching Maria's decreased volume even so.
"Of course. I want you both to find joy, Angelica, and languishing in your loveless marriage will not grant you that, I can guarantee from my own experience. What you need is love, physical and emotional, and I know that you would find plenty of both with Jefferson." She spoke with certainty, recounting information she regarded as fact rather than merely suggesting advice, not even the tiniest indication of any doubt whatsoever.
Her friend was not entirely convinced, however, reminding the artist, "It is not as though I have never loved John. I chose him, I eloped with him, surely all of our mutual affection hasn't faded entirely, so I can't betray our vows."
Smiling sadly, Maria truthfully illuminated for her, "Nothing can last forever, and that was a long time ago. And anyway, you had already fallen in love with your brother in law within three years of marrying Mr Church."
Even more shocked by the unabashed comment, Angelica began to stutter her reply, only to be cut off, "I never told you -"
"- Because you didn't need to. That doesn't make it less true, and it doesn't mean that you don't still long for a distraction. He's sitting just on the other side of that door, and he could use some support right now."
Dumbfounded for once in her life, there was nothing for Angelica to do but nod.
Again, Maria embraced her, holding on tight, turning her head to kiss Angelica's cheek and breathe into her ear, "Be happy, my dear Angelica, and remember that joy can be found anywhere at all."
With that, she walked away, abandoning the former Schuyler woman alone in the hallway.
After taking a minute to compose herself and dry her budding tears, she knocked on the door and pushed it open to find Thomas staring vacantly out of the window. He turned immediately to face her when she entered, forgetting his own tears before he registered the pity in her dark, enrapturing gaze. Swiping at his dampened cheeks in frustration, he muttered, "I'm sorry, forgive me, you weren't meant to see me like this."
"Please, don't be ashamed. We have both lost a friend," the guest replied gently, closing the door behind her.
After a heartbeat, Jefferson murmured, "Thank you. For being here, for being good to me." His gaze dropped, his words uncharacteristically hesitant as he struggled to admit, "Before she left, she told me... She said I was free..." He swallowed, visibly struggling to keep his dignity and self-control.
Overwhelmed with empathy, Angelica finished, "She said you are free to love me with all your heart."
She closed her eyes momentarily, Maria's final words ringing in her ears and echoing through her brain, Be happy, my dear Angelica. Slowly opening them again and meeting Thomas' rare, vulnerable expression, she decided, "And you are."
Forgetting her hesitations, crushing her nerves, releasing her inhibitions and for the first time in her life prioritizing herself over anyone else, she crossed the room in confident strides, placed her hands on either side of his face and met his bewildered expression with a sweet, hopeful smile which, after a single rapid heartbeat, Thomas mirrored.
She kissed him, pulling him to her and holding tight and relishing the feeling of passionate lips pushing back against her own, meeting her lips with unleashed lust and strange awe and maybe, somewhere amongst the fire building within them, a spark of true, deep adoration.
But in that instant, the hidden implications were the very last thing on her mind; she was consumed entirely with the dizzying euphoria of taking a risk, jumping into the abyss and being caught by unexpectedly tender hands and unexpectedly soft lips.
She lost herself to the kiss, deciding then and there that, at least for the time being, it made no difference if it was love or not.
It felt good, it felt right, and so she did not stop.
A/N: GET IN THERE BABE!
This concludes part 1, in which the relationship is first established (you remember that weird structure thing I said about a while ago? Yeah, that.) Part 2 is coming soon, and it is to be entitled "How do you say 'Kiss me'?"
(Do you see where I'm finding my part names?)
Anyway, thanks again for reading! Stay healthy, my dearest darlingest readers, you are too precious to be sick.