I smiled. “A wedding gift for my husband.”
He feigned a frown and stepped closer. “Your husband, madam? Do I know him?”
Playing his game, I said, “Oh, you know him very well, sir. And your gift is for?”
He came closer yet. “For my wife-to-be. And before you ask, indeed, you know her well. She has a good nature, a charming vivacity, and is most unmercifully handsome”—he arched a brow and closed the remaining space between us—“and so perverse that she has none of those affectations which are the prerogatives of beauty.”
How did he always manage to set my world a-tumble with his words? “Oh, you must be a lucky man, indeed. I hope you’ve shown her your appreciation.”
He barked a laugh. “You saucy charmer!”
I sat in the chair closest to the fire so that I could see by the greater light there, and Alexander pulled up a chair of his own so that our knees touched. With a nervous smile, he placed the heavy sack onto my lap. I untied its string and worked the coarse cloth over the solid object inside. Impatience rolled off him so forcefully that I had to tease him further by taking great pains to slide the sack evenly off, a little on this side, and then a little on that.
“And to think someone once told me you were the Finest Tempered Girl in the World,” he said with a chuckle.
I yanked the sack away then as we both laughed. Removing the wrapping revealed a fine, carved mahogany sewing box. “Oh, it’s exquisite,” I said. I carefully lifted the lid, only to find another treasure tucked inside. A small, round, pearl-encrusted pendant. The pendant alone would’ve enamored me, but combined with the inscription and personal token inside, I knew not what to say.
“General Washington mentioned that Kitty Livingston had asked for a token of his esteem,” Alexander explained. “I guessed you might like one from His Excellency, too.”
“You guessed right,” I said, in awe as I stared at the circle of General Washington’s dark blond hair under a glass covering inscribed with his name.
How had Alexander afforded such finery? I couldn’t imagine, but I could barely think on it through my embarrassment that Washington may have thought me a frivolous girl to want a clipping of his locks. Still, I wasn’t so embarrassed that I didn’t wish to wear it straightaway!
Fastening the chain, I said, “I’ll cherish it forever.” I looked up to find Hamilton beaming, and I added, “But I should not like you to think that I am the sort of woman who expects expensive—”
“You are the kind of woman who deserves this and every last penny I have squirreled away,” he interrupted. “Besides, I am not entirely impoverished, my angel. And I am fortunate in my friends. John Laurens regrets very much that he cannot be with us on our wedding day and insisted upon advancing me a tidy sum to purchase this for you.”
“I shall have to thank him when we finally meet,” I said of his mysterious and much-admired friend. “His generosity of spirit shall stand present for him as if he were a guest. And I shall wear this pendant near my heart on our wedding day.”
“Good.” My beloved’s voice turned stern. “But don’t think it will not irritate me a little to have another man’s name so near your heart. Even Washington’s.”
I laughed. “Near to my heart, but not inside it, for there is room there for no man but you. Oh, and the box is a most perfect gift, too.”
“Oh, ‘and the box,’ she says,” Alexander grumbled playfully. “My turn, then?” When I nodded, he tore at the ribbon, and then unfolded the plain ticking I’d used to cushion the framed matting and portrait. “Oh, my angelic girl. What have you done?”
“I had your portrait rendered by Mr. Peale in Philadelphia, and then I designed and sewed a frame for it,” I said, suddenly nervous. “I wanted you to see how much I’ve thought of you all these months.”
“What fine, detailed work.” He paused in his admiration of my embroidery. “Only you must think me vain to keep a portrait of myself.”
“Well, I hoped you would leave it with me if ever you should have to go away again,” I said, feeling a little foolish that I’d made him a gift I wanted myself.
But he intertwined our fingers and leaned to kiss me. “I love you more every hour.”
I very much wanted that kiss, but unfortunately, we were interrupted.
“There you are,” Peggy said, leaning into the room.
Alexander cleared his throat. “Why hello, little sister.”
“Sorry to intrude on your private celebration,” she said, though Peggy was never sorry for such things. “Mama beckoned me to find you to say good night. Guests are leaving.”
Before long, everyone was gone, and I had the great pleasure—for one last night—of sharing a room with both Angelica and Peggy for old time’s sake. Years had passed since the three of us had stayed together, and just like we used to, we talked and laughed and teased until long after we should’ve gone to sleep. “I can hardly believe that tomorrow, I’ll be wed,” I whispered into the darkness, for the candle had burned down some time before.
“And bed,” Angelica said.
“Angelica!” I cried, my stomach tingling.
But she only laughed. “What’s the use in having a more experienced older sister if she can’t divulge the secrets of marriage?”
“Do tell!” Peggy said.
I pulled the covers over my face, which of course they tugged back down. “I’ll say this,” Angelica began in her world-wise way. “A man enjoys a woman to be an active participant and desires her pleasure. So don’t be shy, Betsy. What you don’t know, Hamilton will teach you.”
My face burned, but I couldn’t deny my interest in her advice or the way my body warmed at the idea of what Alexander might teach me. “I shall take that under advisement,” I said with as much dignity
