The sunrise was beginning, it's beautiful golden colors filling the entire sky. I was a little late in arriving, but I doubt Philip would mind too much. As I carefully walk through the city, I admire the stillness engulfing it. The pavement, usually clacking with heels slamming only played the high taps of my shoes. The stores all typically full and bustling, had no light through the windows and if so, had the owners calmly walking throughout with absolute no worry in the world.
As I approach Madison Square Park, my guts start to twist and tighten in a ungodly manner. Sloshing and slushing through uncomfortably, the feeling of nausea growing. Swallowing the bad feelings, I slowly push the gate open. It's usually open fully, but isn't yet due to the earlier time. The creaking sends the noise to every ear outside, and I know if Ace is here he definitely heard. There I see it. A mop of curly brown hair, messier than usual, trotting around quickly. Under the large oak, Philip paces from one bench to the other, biting his nails. He looks terrible, clearly sleep deprived. Light purple circles lying gently under his eyes. Sensing my presence, Ace looks up.
"Theodosia!" Philip rushes to me, collecting my hands in his own. Getting to close for comfort, I gently peel his hands off of mine.
"Philip," I look him in eyes. They're wild, hazel beauties. "I've decided to," I swallow my nervousness. "Accept your proposal."
Eyes widening, Ace wraps his arms around me tightly. His face falls into my shoulder, burying his head in the crook of my neck. I hug him back, then realizing the awkward position and gently push him away.
"I have rules," I tell him quickly, and his expression falls. Furrowing my eye brows, I hold a finger in the air. "First, we need to sleep in separate beds. I know you are a man of honor, but I don't want to risk it either." I hold up a second finger. "Second of all, no kisses, makeouts, massages, and um.. sex."
"You made that point clear in the first rule, Mrs Hamilton." Philip whispers.
My cheeks flush, and suddenly I have a coughing fit. "I, um, I... You're cooking."
Breaking out in laughter, Philip holds his stomach. "So that's al-"
"No! One more thing," I stop him abruptly, "I want a wedding. An actual wedding, a big one. My dream one."
He looks me in the eye, looking me up and down. "You want a big, dream wedding with me?"
"Yes."
White teeth shine brighter than the sun at the comment, and he brings me into his arms, kissing my forehead. "We will tell the parents tonight."
"O-okay." I stutter, looking to the floor.
"I'll see you later, Mrs Hamilton." Philip whispers huskily into my ear before striding away.
The second the gate is done creaking it's tunes, I collasp to the ground. Holding my gasps in by my hand, I stare at the broken pavement. I have no clue what's overtaken me. Fear racks my body and I feel like visibaly shaking. The idea of betraying my father for education, it terrifies me worse then death. What if he never wants to see me again? What if he hates me? What if I'm banished!?
Forcing myself to stand, I head out of the park. Stopping at the bakery, I pluck out two beautiful jam donuts, and bring them to the house. I gently open the door, stepping inside and shutting it slowly behind me.
"Papa... Papa.." I call, but nothing answers. I go into the kitchen, taking out two plates and setting them on either sides of the table. Taking the bag with donuts, I then place one on each plate. Then set a glass of milk next to mine and coffee my father's. I hear footsteps approach the kitchen.
"General?" Papa gives me a confused look, and I bashfully shrug.
"I got up early," I tell him like it's just a casual thing. Papa gives me a quizitive look, but says nothing of it.
As we sit, I begin to speak. "I was wondering if I could invite a few friends over for dinner tonight? Three people."
"Who?" Papa says in between bites.
"Um... well. You see..." nervousness envelops me like a cold and cruel blanket. "The Hamilton's."
"They are your friends!?" He chokes on his food.
"No, No! I," this is hard. "I, okay." Let's restart. "As I came out this morning, I ran into Philip Hamilton at the bakery-"
"Philip!? You know I told you not to talk to that boy. He's nothing but trouble, has been since the day he was born!" Papa cries. "He's exactly like his father, and I do not want you to go through what Elizabeth goes through!"
"How do you know?" I retort, curious and furious.
"Your mother loved Mrs Hamilton, talked all the time. From what I know, the man ignores his wife more than Paris tried to kill Achilles!"
"Father! Just listen to me, Philip has done nothing wrong! We discussed your feud, and Ace- Philip mentioned you and Alexander were once friends!" I protest, glaring at my father's shocked face. How could he hide that from me? "After talking some more, we both agreed your relationship should be rekindled to help your careers!"
Of course, that's a lie. But it seemed good enough for my father to believe, and something Philip should be able to play along with until... it's revealed.
"How could I ever rekindle a relationship with that man? Why would I?" My father shouts.
"He, I," I lie pops into my head. "He offered to teach me!"
"What?"
"He goes to Kings College, Papa. Philip offered to teach me what he learns after class, you know I'm desperate to learn." Giving him puppy eyes, my father gives a relinquished sigh.
"One night, my darling. Only for your educational purposes." Papa growls, he pecks my head and heads out. Relief washes over me like a flood, and I take the opportunity to hold my head in my hands. Why am I doing this again?
For you education. For your job! Remember, nothing going to even happen between you two! My brain tries to remind me. He just needs a wife for a few years then he should be set!
Shrugging at my own thinking, I gather the dishes and proceed to take my time washing them. As I finish, I remember I need to inform Philip of the situation. I slip my shoes on and go into the streets, promptly running into Will Mulligan.
"Theodosia, it's been a while. How have you been?" He says politely, smiling widely.
"I'm good, thank you. I really need to talk to Philip. Is he at home?"
Will gives a surprised look. "You found out his name?"
"Yeah," I shift on either foot. "We're in a predictiment."
"You agreed to be his wife? I didn't think you would." Will shrugs. "People change. I'm actually heading over there, but it's probably best if you didn't go."
"Wait, you knew?" I stare utterly shocked, my mouth staying open for so long I'm practically drooling.
Will chuckles, nodding sheepishly. "Of course, we've known for almost a year now. He's tried on many girls but none have worked for the poor boy. When he met you, he instantly starting talking about how 'you're the one'. Anastasie told him the only way he's marrying you is of you get along with is. And you did so..."
I blush, staring at the ground. "O-oh. Is that why you were shocked he choose a Burr?"
"He hated the crap out of you."
"Oh."
"Why can't I go?"
"Well, Angie just found out and Pip called all his friends to help shut her up so the parents don't know. Having you there probably won't aid the situation. I can take a message."
"Please! Tell him it's at my house, 6 o'clock sharp. Wear something really nice with mint tie, tell him it's from his Angel."
Cocking a curious eyebrow, Will nods. We bid farewell, and he makes his way down the road while I usher myself home, having no utter clue on what to do. As I open our front door, closing it, I lean against the door for support. This gives me time to inspect my house more than I already know it. A light lavender wallpaper adorned with little lilies occasionally, a narrow hallway with a door to the right for the library, another to the left for the living room, and one at the end to the kitchen. A dark coatrack was next to the door, along with a mirror and bench underneath. I slid into the bench. My nerves started shaking violently, and the only thing keeping me sane was two lilies on the wall looking like two hazel eyes. Where have I seen those eyes?
My thoughts drift towards my mother, how had she calmed me down?
Singing.
I was never a talented singer, however. Ignoring the thought, I proceed to climb from the seat, up the stairs into my room. Gently removing my clothing and selecting a loose, non-fitting, comfortable dress. Then I take a cream colored band and tie my hair into a ponytail. Ah, comfort.
"Let's begin with this mess," I say aloud, gesturing to my room.
Tidying my room, I spot an old poem book sitting neatly on my desk. How have I failed to notice such? Lavender Blue, was it's name.
"It's a song too," I say to no one in particular. "How does that go...?"
After a moment, I remember. Despite my awful singing, I left the melody of the first line softly poor from my lips as I finish up...
"Lavender blue, dilly, dilly,"
I fix my sheets.
"Lavender green,"
I adjust the curtains and close the closet.
"If I were king, dilly, dilly,"
Taking one last look, I spin around the room like a princess. Bowing, I finish the verse,
"I'd need a queen."
Taking the happy moment as it is, I clean the rest of the upstairs including the restroom, Papas room, and the guest mumbling softly.
"Who told me so, dilly, dilly,
Who told me so,
I told myself, dilly, dilly
I told me so."
Lifting my skirt, I look to the banister with a dangerous glint. Hey, I'm only sixteen.
"Eeep!" I giggle, sliding down the banister on my butt. As I reach the handle, I grab on and twist so my foot lands on the bottom step. Then, I release myself. I spin, giggling happily.
"If your dilly, dilly heart,"
Grabbing our duster I brush the library clean of its dustmites,
"Feels a dilly, dilly way,
And if you answer, yes,"
I adjust the books to not lie against one another, and rearrange the desk in the corner. Fluttering my lashes and continuing the lyrics as I finish the library.
"In a pretty little church,
On a dilly, dilly day,
You'll be wed in a dilly, dilly dress."
The thought of the weddings and dresses slightly brushed my mind, but I simply grazed over the topic as if it was of no interest in my head. Muttering the last word gently, I carry myself out and into the living room. With my trusty duster, I go to the shelfs. Removing the items to lay temporarily on the floor, I dust and wipe them clean until they look as new as the day Papa made them.
"Of lavender blue, dilly, dilly,
Lavender green,
Then I'll be king, dilly, dilly,
And you'll be my queen."
Odd, how the song has always been sung with a soft female voice assuring those of a good world with the mesmerising lyrics. However, it talks much of a king finding his queen. This gets me wondering if maybe the intention was for a lover to sing to his beloved lady. Wooing her to become his queen in their wonderful fantasy.
Putting the thoughts aside, I continue throughout the living room, gladly singing.
"Great-grandfather met great-grandmother,
When she was a shy young miss,
And great-grandfather won great-grandmother,
With words more or less like this."
As I wrap up the lyrics, I wrap up the living room. It doesn't take long to fix the hallway, and I find myself already pulling the cookbook down at the last line.
"Lavender Blue, dilly, dilly,
Lavender green,
If you were king, dilly, dilly,
You'd need a queen."
Thumbing through my cookbook, I struggle to remember what might please Philip and his family. I remember slight mention of seafood at the bar, but it could have been drunken misconception. Seafood seems like a good start, but Papa only likes salmon, the only fish currently not in season.
Glancing through again, I decide on meatloaf, salad, rolls, and red wine. Low alcohol red wine. Luckily, we have all the ingredients but red wine, and when the messenger comes to deliver mail, I ask if he can carry the message to Papa. He said he's heading straight to his work, so he'll inform "Mr Burr" to pick up low alcohol red wine.
Closing the door I sing, grabbing the bowls and dishes.
"Who told you so, dilly, dilly."
I begin on the salad, it took barely time at all.
"Who told you so,"
Taking some ingredients for bread, I mix the yeast and grain and various others together roughly with my hands, it's like a hard puddy. Popping it in the oven, I sing the last lyrics gladly.
"I told myself, dilly, dilly,
I told me so."
I then began grinding meat and peppers and salts together, adjusting their size and forcing them together. Sweat began to drip down my cheeks.
"If your dilly, dilly, heart,
Feels a dilly, dilly way,
And if you'll answer, yes,
In a pretty little church,
On a dilly dilly day,
You'll be wed in a dilly, dilly, dress of,"
I stopped, hours later staring at my masterpiece of a dinner. The red wine would suit it excellently, and I knew Philip would be proud.
Wait, I don't care if Philip's proud. I need to make sure it pleases Alexander and Elizabeth Hamilton. Honestly, the two have such long names I'm surprised Philip's not named Agamemnon or something. Feeling happy with the meal, I realize I need to find that mint dress I wished to wear. Trailing up the stairs, I barge into my own closet. It takes minutes, feels like hours, to find the goregous dress. I do, and slip it onto my figure.
It's a beautiful mint dress, trailing a little under my ankles. At the waist, the corset stops and the top layer, a darker mint, splits. Intricate lace designs gently adorned with diamonds and jewels, along with glitter. In the top, the lacy pattern continued. The back and arms, were sheer mint lace, a dress that complinted me well.
Spinning in my room, I felt like a princess.
"Lavender Blue, dilly, dilly,
Lavender green,
Then I'll be king, dilly, dilly,
And you'll be my queen."
I knew it was impossible, but I felt like, through mirror, I could feel eyes watching me happily.
I could see two hazel beauties.