History Has Its Eyes On You ~ A Hamilton Fanfiction (Book 1, Act 1)

Adopted By The Schuylers

(Emily POV)

Eliza? Elizabeth... Schuyler? I swear I'd heard that before... Maybe she was a friend of Alexander's. Or Y/N's. Either way, her name rang a doorbell in my head, but I couldn't figure it out. It'd be rude of me to ask, anyway.

"Aren't you with your mother and father? You seem slightly young to be wandering about alone." Eliza wondered.
"No... No." I stated. "My... not biological father is at war."
"Oh... So you are an orphan?" she questioned, still cupping my hands. I nodded.

"Where do the stay for the time being?" she asked with concern.
"At the school. Down the road."
"Oh, I am aware of that place! With Mrs Taylor?"
"Mmhm."
"She is such a talented woman. You're lucky to have her as your tutor!"
"...I guess."

Hugh returned with a dress symmetrical to mine, holding it out for me. "Here you are. I hope it wasn't much of a delay, Miss."
"It wasn't. Thank you." I took it from him, closing the back door behind me to again enter the main shop.

I was stopped by Charles, blocking my path. I sighed. "Hello, Charles..." I muttered.
"What happened today?" he asked quickly.
"Nothing for you to be concerned about, now will you please let me--"
"No." He blocked me again as I tried to dodge him. "What happened?"

"Charles, please. I shouldn't be your main worry right now."
"But you are. Because if anything happens to you, Y/N will kill me."
"SSHH!!" I covered his mouth with the palm of my mind. "It's Sophie, alright? Never use that name out loud." I removed it, and he looked down in shame. "Let's be honest, Charles, if anything happened, she'd kill me. Not you. She loves you." I signalled myself out behind the dressing screen, and Charles left.

~

"If it's no delay, Emily, would you like to come with me to my home?" Eliza offered. "You could join us for dinner, and have a warm bath to wash the dirt off of you."
A warm bath. I'd forgotten what one of those had felt like. It had been so long. "...I'm sure Mrs Taylor wouldn't mind if I left for a while..." I agreed.
"Great! You'll love it there, trust me. Now let's go and round up my sisters!"
"S- Sisters??"

~

"So Emily, these are my sisters, Angelica and Peggy." Eliza introduced.
"Pleasant to meet you, Miss." Angelica curtsied, her long hair flowing across her dress.
I respected her back, curtsying delightfully. "And you, Miss Schuyler."

We turned silent, and I noticed the two sisters staring at Peggy expectantly. She stood with her arms crossed, glaring down at the pavement. "Peggy." Eliza snarled.
"Okay fine!! I'm Peg-- Margarita." she finally greeted, moping around. "Can we leave now?"

"Sure, but you're carrying the bags." Angelica lumbered her shopping over to Peggy, dusting her hands off. Eliza and I laughed, but Peggy just grunted in frustration. Angelica starting walking, leading us over to a glamorous carriage. Poorer citizens gathered around, admiring their wealth and beauty. I felt... acknowledged. But it was good.

...Yeah, it was good.

~

Entering the home was like entering a palace fit for royalty. It was beyond anything I'd dreamed of, but it soon clicked who these people were: the Schuylers, one of the richest, if not the richest family in New York. Why this woman was willing to be so generous towards me I wouldn't know; I'd have thought I was inadequate compared to her standards.

We were immediately surged by two little bundles of joy, coming at the three sisters joyfully. The infant girl latched herself onto Eliza, whilst the boy, noticing Peggy struggling with the bags, went over to help. "Emily, this is Rensselaer and Cornelia." Angelica informed me.

Rensselaer, on hearing his name called, turned to me and bowed. "Nice to meet you, Miss?"
"Hamilton. But you can call me Emily."
"Miss Hamilton. You've a lovely name, Miss."
"Why thank you." Such a polite boy, and yet he was only young. Wouldn't predict any less from a child raised by such people.

Meanwhile, Cornelia smiled at me innocently as Eliza held her gently in her arms. "Now where are the boys?" Eliza questioned, causing Cornelia to point to the stairway. Angelica sighed, putting her hands onto her hips. "JOHN BRADSTREET! PHILIP JEREMIAH! GET DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT, YOUNG MEN!"

A boy, about Valentino's age, slowly made his way down, whilst the other was nowhere in sight. He had his eyes focused upon a book, too intent on reading to look up. Once he'd reached the bottom, Angelica snatched the book from him, tossing it aside. "Excuse me, I was reading that."
"Not anymore. You must meet our guest."

He placed his hand upon his chest. "Philip Jeremiah Schuyler, Miss." He politely stepped forward, taking my hand to kiss it. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"A--" I was interrupted with a teenage boy, hurdling himself down the stairs whilst trying to strangle a shoe onto his foot.

"Fret not, sister, your savior has arrived!" This must've been John. He fiddled with the collar of his shirt, gazing back up into my eyes. He forgot everything, staring deeply and admiring. It was mildly disturbing. "Oh... Well if the envy in my eyes is a sin, then please call me a sinner..." He shoved his brother out of the way, kissing my hand passionately. "John Bradstreet Schuyler, but you have the privilege to call me John."

"Charming." I giggled, glancing at Eliza. She shrugged her shoulders, laughing along.
"He can be, sometimes. Gets it from our father."
"You called?" A bald man with a stouted grey beard entered, leaning his weight against a walking stick for support.

"Father!" Eliza was the first to embrace him, Cornelia still within her arms. "This is Emily Hamilton. I thought we might be able to help, as sh--"
"Hamilton?" Schuyler questioned.
"Yes, father." Eliza responded.
"Oh, of course. You're Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton's girl, are you not?"
"Yes, sir." I answered.

"Yes, yes. Remember that gentlemen that visited us months ago, Liz? The ones with the eyes?" Schuyler teased.
"Oh shush, father, all men have eyes!"
"Yes, but you gazed as of you'd never seen a pair such as it before." he joked. "But yes, he deemed to be a good man, despite his devastating past."

"Well, would Miss Hamilton be able to stay with us for dinner, father? It's the least I could do for her." Eliza requested. Everybody stared at their father intently, except for Philip, who'd retrieved his book, and Peggy, who was uninterested.
"You're just like your mother, aren't you?" he sighed. "If you implore, then I guess so."

"She can stay."

~~~~~~~~~~

So as I was planning this random chapter off of the spot, I somehow managed to come up with the idea that, "Emily sits down for the meal. She looks at her knife and fork like 'What is this sorcery' but tries using them anyway. Then as she's cutting her chicken, the knife skids through and the chicken flies off of the plate and hits Philip in the face. Philip then has a heart attack and dies... from a flying chicken *dies of laughter*."