Men are simple creatures. They know how to eat, sleep, bathe, and love. That's about it. The creative, sensitive sides come later in life. However, when I look at Elijah Schuyler, I see compassion. I see a future in him that I simply cannot ignore.

I touch his arm after Andrew lets go of mine. "Would you care to dance, Mister Schuyler?"

Elijah is flustered. "Yes. Of course, miss."

I take his hand in mine, guiding him to the dance floor. The floor is crowded with strangers, hundreds of people having a good time. I put my hand on Elijah's shoulder, pressing my thumb into his collarbone oh-so gently. Elijah puts his hand on my hip. I realize that my arms are completely bare, as I am wearing a puffy-sleeved white shirt with a red belt and a flowing, thin blue skirt. I only have one underskirt on, with black boots that shine brighter than the stars in the sky.

Elijah looks dashing in light blue, with black boots that shine similar to mine. We begin to move with the music, bending and twisting as partners do.

"How is your writing going? For General Georgia, I mean," Elijah pulls me a little closer, finally becoming more comfortable with me.

"As well as it can be. I have very little time for myself. Tonight is a night I will treasure," I pause, trying to figure out how to make myself as dramatic as possible. "Well, I will treasure it for other reasons besides time away from camp."

Elijah lifts his arm up, twirling me around him. "You have other reasons?"

"One always has other reasons, Mister Schuyler."

He becomes flustered again. "Please, call me Elijah."

I smirk only because he can't see me from behind him. When I come in front again, I am smiling again. "What do your friends call you?"

"Um, they call me Elijah, usually…" he shrugs, his cheeks turning pink.

He guides us into another back and forth motion with the music. I look up at him, my hand on his forearm. "Then I shall call you Ellie. It's sweet, isn't it?"

Elijah smiles down at me, beaming with infatuation. "It is, Miss Hamilton."

I imitate his tone. "Please, call me Alexandra."

Elijah laughs. "I will, I promise. Maybe even Alex will suit you, but that makes you sound very masculine. You are quite the opposite."

"Is that so? Well, I guess I must put more mud on my boots and brow, then," I make him laugh again; the sound is music to my ears.

We dance like this for a few hours. He has a quick wit, one that matches mine to a T. Our gentle glances and firey eyes keep the candles in the room lit for the amount of time that he is with me. I have imagined a life like this for myself someday; if they can get passed the fact that I am illegitimate, I hope to light all of the rooms of my home like this with someone that I adore. Elijah seems like that kind of boy-that kind of man.

The night wears on. I drink a bit, eat a bit, all with Elijah close by. We enjoy each other's company and embrace, each hour becoming sweeter than the last. Towards midnight, Piper Schuyler announces the end of the ball.

Elijah's face grows sour. He takes my arm in his hand, pulling me close to him. "Alexandra, will you write me?"

I am taken aback by his forwardness, an action which is not expected of the men of the house. "Of course I will, Elijah."

"Good," Elijah pushes a red curl behind my ear, smiling from ear to ear. "I hope to see you around the mansion again soon, miss."

"I hope to see you as well." I nod to him, curtsying gracefully. He bows with polite discretion, leaving me in the middle of the room alone. In a moment, Joanna comes rushing toward me, giving me my long, heavy black wrap that protects against the cold.

"Are you ready, Colonel Hamilton?" Jo says, gripping my arm a bit tighter than usual. Her brown eyes are dotted with concern, but I do not know why.

"As I'll ever be, my sweet Joanna," I pinch her left cheek as we leave the Schuyler mansion behind. Joanna's freckles are scattered like stars, her big cheekbones still filled with blood after the dancing and the ale. She's beautiful, inside and out. However, when I look at Elijah Schuyler, something fills me up. Something completes my half, something devours me still.

Even if Jo and I have made love (Only once. Or twice. Or three times. I've lost count), even if Jo and I have said we adored each other, even if Jo and I did a million quests together, I would drop on my knees for Elijah Schuyler's heart this moment.

Maybe it's the fact that Jo and I together means death for both of us, but the idea of marrying Mr. Schuyler is so much more than it appears. It means more to me than a fling between best friends.

Joanna doesn't say anything for the long ride home. I don't say anything, either. I'm too busy imagining Elijah Schuyler's dark eyes and his strong hands and-

"Alex?"