Mr Jefferson is Coming Home (Jamilton)

Chapter 16

It was raining outside. Thomas glanced darkly through the window panes, looking at the restless puddles on the street, and shivered. He took his elegant umbrella instead of the walking stick for a change – he'd be going by carriage anyway – and sighed deeply, gathering the strength to make it through the night. He really didn't want to do it, but there was no choice. After one of the best days together, after confessing their feelings to each other, Alexander had disappeared – Thomas had sent him letters and tried to talk with him at work, but Hamilton seemed to avoid him. He'd been on the point of writing a very compromising letter, asking Alexander to renew his feelings for him, or to release him from the golden jail of love by telling him not to hope for his affection anymore; but, in the end, he'd hesitated before sending it – he'd been afraid something wasn't right and decided to wait another day before surrendering to despair. He'd later blessed his hesitation a hundred of times, since the very day he'd been about to send the letter to Alexander, he'd received a note from him.

Dear Thomas – it was already odd that he'd called him by his first name – I'm afraid I've used the wrong excuse at the wrong moment, and my wife has accused me of cheating on her. I've tried to ease her mind but in the last days she'd been very distressed by her suspicions and so I've told her about our innocent friendship – and that we are hiding from the public eye only for the benefit of our nation. She's been very relieved to know it, but also very confused by the news; she has therefore asked me to invite you here for supper in order to know you better, since I've explained her the importance of your friendship for me. I think she only wants to be sure that I'm not seeing another woman. I'm very sorry to ask you this, but it's the only way I can continue seeing you without making my dear wife upset – will you come?

Please burn the letter as soon as you read it – even a hint of our friendship could be dangerous if read by malicious eyes.

It hadn't been signed – another precautionary measure to avoid raising unwanted questions. Thomas was very nervous about the dinner, but since he hadn't find any other way to convince Eliza of Alexander's loyalty – well, he hadn't cheated on her with another woman anyway – he had half-heartedly accepted their invitation for dinner. That's why he was standing on his doorstep at five o' clock on a Sunday evening, convincing himself to take the first step and go to his lover's house to dine with him and his wife.

When he arrived, he caught a glimpse of Alexander's very anxious face peeping from the windows and, less than a minute later, the green-dressed man opened the door with an uneasy look on his face, his back too stiffen to be natural.

"Hi," Thomas whispered from outside the door, smiling a loving smile.

"Mr Jefferson, sir," Alexander greeted him awkwardly, shaking his hand – his palm was sweating.

"Mr Hamilton," he answered politely and then added softly, only for Alex to hear, "calm down, love, it'll be fine."

"I'm sorry for dragging you here –

"I love you."

Alexander smiled at last and let him in, taking his coat and leading him into the small dining room, where Eliza warmly greeted him.

"Mr Jefferson," she seemed relieved beyond measure, "I'm so happy to see that you and my husband have finally buried the hatchet."

"Mrs Hamilton, you're lovely as ever."

"Oh, please, take a seat," she giggled and went in the kitchen to make some final arrangements for the dinner.

"You should stop making eyes at my wife."

"Are you jealous, Hamilton?" He joked, adding low, "it's not the wife I want though."

"Ha! Jealous of you? Why would I?" Alexander blew him a kiss from the other side of the table and sat. "Would you like some wine? I'm afraid our cooking is not enough à la française for your taste, Jefferson."