I rise from bed feeling sleepy, if not more tired than I was when I first went to bed. I change into an evergreen colored dress before slowly making my way down the stairs.
When I reach downstairs, I grab my black cloak off of the cloak hanger by the front door and clasp it at my collarbone. I'm putting on a hat when my father walks out into the hallway and spots me. My stomach drops at the sight of him.
"Eliza," he greets warmly as he approaches, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "What are you doing up so early?" He stops before me, and I resist the urge to look away from his piercing stare.
I consider lying to him before I realize I'd better tell him the truth. "I'm going to Philadelphia, Papa," I tell him quietly in hopes that my mother, wherever she is, won't hear me.
His brow furrows with disapproval at this and I wince a little. "Eliza, you shouldn't be leaving for Philadelphia alone. It's inappropriate for a lady of your status to be outside alone, let alone traveling miles alone."
"I'll bring footmen," I tell him earnestly. "Please. Just let me go," I plead him, grabbing his hands as if that'll persuade him more.
He looks at me for a few seconds, and I can see the conflict in his eyes. He doesn't want me to go alone, yet he doesn't want to stop me and make me unhappy. "It would make me feel better if Hamilton was meeting you halfway," he compromises and my heart sinks.
"Papa, Alexander is busy. He can't leave his station."
"It's the winter campaign," my father argues. "Hamilton shouldn't be that busy."
"Colonel Laurens left, so he has to take up his work, too. He will still be busy," I inform my father. I pause before adding reluctantly, "Besides, he doesn't know I'm coming."
His frown deepens further at this and I silently scold myself for letting that slip. "Eliza, don't you think Alexander should know you're coming?" my father asks with a raised brow.
I raise my chin high and respond coolly, "I've surprised him before when I went to Valley Forge with Angelica. It shouldn't be a problem this time around."
My father looks doubtful. But he lets it drop and instead says, "Eliza, you must remember your condition. You aren't in any shape to travel."
"I'll take a carriage," I immediately say. "It shouldn't be too arduous of a journey."
After a few moments of painful deliberation, my father does the last thing I thought he would do. He nods and says hurriedly, as if at any moment my mother will come whipping around the corner, "Then go, Eliza. Take Jane, the maid. She'll look after you. And please, take the carriage as you said you would."
I quickly nod before giving him a swift hug. When I pull away, I hurriedly finish putting on my hat. My father watches on a little melancholily as I tug on my gloves. "Goodbye, Papa," I whisper and he gives me a smile before I open the door and quickly slip out.
I go around to the back of the house and by the time I reach where we keep the carriage, a girl around my age is awaiting me. My father must've reached her and ordered her to go with me in the time I had taken me to reach the back of the house.
She gives me a small smile when she sees my approach, and I notice the way her eyes crinkle at the corners as if she smiles a lot. "Hello, my lady," she greets, dipping into a small curtsy, and I blush.
"Hi," I reply warmly. "You can just call me Eliza or, uh, Mrs. Hamilton if you would prefer," I stumble out, and the girl- Jane-smiles and nods.
She grabs the bag of things I'm carrying and puts it inside the carriage before holding the door open for me. "I'll be driving the carriage, Mrs. Hamilton," she tells me.
My eyebrows draw together in confusion and I ask, "Are you sure that's safe? Why don't you just sit inside with me and we'll have a footman drive instead." It seems that the way I said it made no room for disagreement because Jane reluctantly nods before disappearing to retrieve a footman.
Gosh, all this trouble just for one carriage. I could've easily ridden a horse. I put a hand on my stomach and realize that I probably couldn't ride. Not without hurting the baby in some way.
A moment later, Jane comes striding back and I look behind her to see a slim, dark-skinned man approaching. He walks with a cane and he has a black hat perched upon his head.
Jane stops in front of me and I slide my gaze back to her. "Are you ready, my lady?" Jane asks before catching herself and quickly amending, "Mrs. Hamilton." I smile in assurance and nod.
"Is this our driver?" I ask, jerking my chin at the man who's now about twenty feet away. Jane only has time to nod in answer before the man is before us. He bows shortly and tips his hat at me before straightening.
"Philadelphia, Mrs. Hamilton?" he asks politely and I nod.
"Let's make haste," I tell him, and he dips his head before going around the carriage to the driver's seat.
Jane puts a hand on my elbow and helps me into the carriage. It's harder than I expect to get inside what with my growing stomach, and I grimace as I finally settle into my seat. A moment later, Jane hops inside (with much better grace and dignity than I had) and sits beside me, albeit a bit stiffly.
A second later the carriage kickstarts into motion with a jolt and I brace a hand nervously against the wall of the carriage. "If you need us to stop, don't hesitate to tell me," Jane informs me gently, and I nod gratefully.
I glance out the window at The Pastures, and I suddenly feel a pang of sadness. It had begun to feel like home, like a refugee I could go to if need be. I remember when I had first arrived here.
I was with Hamilton and Laurens, along with Washington and Mrs. Washington. We were riding back from the battle at New York City after discovering Arnold was a British spy and had escaped.
Yet, The Pastures had become lonely since Peggy and Angelica had moved out, and I feel it is necessary for me to leave in order to move forward in life.
For some reason, I can't shake the feeling that I won't be back for a long, long time.
***
The carriage is a bumpy ride, and after a mere thirty minutes of travel, I'm already nauseous. "I think I'm going to throw up," I manage to tell Jane through my nausea, and she quickly thumps the roof of the carriage with a hand.
A moment later, the carriage comes to a halt and I fling myself out of the carriage. I hurry behind a nearby tree and throw up. After I'm finished, I brace a hand against the tree and stay leaned over like that as I close my eyes and take deep breaths.
I feel a hand rub comfortingly on my back and then Jane's soothing voice asking, "Are you alright, Mrs. Hamilton?"
I take a few more gulps of fresh air before I nod. "I'm alright," I answer, straightening from my leaned over position. Jane takes a few steps back to give me some space as I straighten my dress and brush off nonexistent dirt.
"You're not in labor or anything, right Mrs. Hamilton?" Jane asks, her brow furrowed with concern.
I huff a laugh and shake my head. "No, I'm not due until two and a half months," I inform her and she smiles. I swear I see relief in her eyes.
"That's good," she says with a small dip of her chin. "Are you ready to get into the carriage now?"
I nod again and begin making my way back to the carriage. Once again, Jane helps me inside and I wonder miraculously how I managed to get out of here so quickly before I threw up. Once we're both inside, the carriage begins again.
The rest of the day passes without incident. I content myself by looking out the window or knitting. I even begin teaching Jane how to knit, and she hums quietly to herself as she practices her rows. We end up stopping at a tavern along the road, and Jane and I share a room to save money. Our driver sleeps in another separate room.
The next morning, we set out again. Thankfully, we seem to be going faster today and it's less bumpy, so I don't ever feel nauseous. Jane and I continue our knitting, but eventually, I grow bored with that and I settle for looking out the window again.
"Do you know when we should reach Philadelphia?" I ask Jane and she looks up from her knitting.
"Most likely another day or two," Jane answers, and I nod before looking back out the window. "Mrs. Hamilton?" Jane asks tentatively, and I look back at her.
"Yes?"
Jane ducks her head a little as she asks, "May I ask you why you are traveling to Philadelphia?"
I smile at her and nod. "I'm going to Philadelphia to see Mr. Hamilton," I tell her. "Or as some people know him, Colonel Hamilton." It seems weird to introduce him so formally. I'm so used to saying his last name or sometimes his first name only.
"Your husband," Jane starts, "Is he in the army?"
"He's Washington's chief aide-de-camp," I inform her, not helping but feeling a little proud of him. But then I remember how he refused to resign and my spirits sink again.
"Wow," Jane breaths with amazement. "If he's General Washington's aide-de-camp than he must be in the thickest of the fighting."
My stomach drops at her words. Jane must've seen the anxiety on my face because she quickly says, "Thank goodness it's the winter campaign, though, so there won't be much fighting. And your husband must have the greatest luck to have survived this long. If he has managed to keep fighting for this long, then I don't see why he shouldn't be able to make it to the end of the war."
I smile at her kind words and say, "Thank you, Jane."
We descend into silence and Jane returns to her knitting as I turn back to the window. I watch as the sky goes from a bright blue to a dark blue and purple as the sun dips down to the horizon. Watching the dark trees racing by makes my eyes tired, and I eventually rest my head against the wall of the carriage and doze off.
I'm vaguely aware of Jane urging me to lay down instead of sleeping upright, and her helping me settle on the cushions.
When I wake, my eyes immediately land on Jane who's sitting on the opposite bench. She's still knitting, except this time it's dark outside and she's using the light of a candle to knit. I realize belatedly that someone- most likely Jane- had covered me up with a blanket. "Are we going to travel through the night?" I ask Jane, my voice raspy from sleep.
She looks up at me with surprise and says, "I didn't realize you were awake, but uh, yes we are. We haven't passed an inn to stay in yet, but I believe the next one is within three miles now." I nod and she suggests, "You should get more rest now. I'm sure this trip has worn you out."
And it has. Although I've only been sitting most of the time, I'm exhausted. It must be because I'm six and a half months along now, and I know Jane is thinking the same thing. I nod at her suggestion and close my eyes.
Jane begins humming softly, and I fall asleep to the comforting sound of her voice.
***
When I wake again, I'm still in the carriage and it's light outside. And worst yet, I'm alone.
I bolt upright and quickly rip the curtains covering the window on my side of the carriage out of the way. I find myself staring at a line of trees with shafts of sunlight filtering to the forest floor. I begin to feel the panic rise in me and my vision sways a little as I scramble to open the door.
The door doesn't budge, though, and fear seizes me. I shove at the door, but it still doesn't move. Why won't it open, why won't it open- my breath starts coming in gasps and my fingers scratch at the door handle.
I feel my fingers squeeze down on something and all of a sudden the door flings open. I nearly topple out of the carriage before I catch myself on the doorframe with a gasp. I stare at the ground with wide eyes, my ragged breathing filling my ears before I haul myself up and step outside the carriage.
I nearly collapse my legs are so wobbly and I grip the carriage before I can fall. Suddenly someone grabs my arm and I let out a scream as I jump away from them and blindly swing at them with my fist.
The person lets go of me and neatly dodges my fist, and I hear them hurriedly say, "Mrs. Hamilton, it's me, Jane."
I stop myself as I'm bringing my fist back, and I bring a hand up to shade my eyes against the sun as I peer at the girl standing before me. I catch sight of the brown, almond-shaped eyes first, and then her slim arms, and I realize it truly is Jane.
"Sorry," I gasp out, putting a hand on my chest. "You frightened me. Where are we?"
Jane waves off my apologies and replies, "We had to stop on the side of the road last night. We couldn't reach the inn in time. Sorry about that." She pauses before saying, "There's something you might want to hear just in case it's important, though I don't think it is."
"What is it?" I ask with a frown.
She clasps her hand in front of her as she replies, "As we were pulling off the road, a rider passed us. But not before stopping to make sure everything was alright. We, of course, said we were alright and he asked where our mistress was, to which I replied you were asleep." She pauses and I nod for her to continue, "Anyways, I asked him where he was coming from and he replied New York."
"What was he wearing?" I demand when she doesn't continue right away.
Jane pursues her lips and she hedges, "It was a little dark outside, so it was hard to tell, but it looked like a Continental Army uniform. A Patriot he was."
"Could you make out his eyes?" I ask earnestly. "What color were they?"
Jane purses her lips again in thought and she looks at the ground as if trying to recall. "Well, I don't think his eyes were anything special. Maybe brown? I'm sure if it was any other color or some rare color I would've noted it."
"Oh," I reply quietly, looking down at the ground, my hopes thoroughly dashed. I was hoping it was Hamilton, that we'd somehow managed to catch up to him, or that he'd turned back around for me.
But surely if it was Hamilton, he would've recognized the carriage. So, no. Even if he did have blue eyes, it wouldn't be Alexander.
Jane notices my mood change and she says, "But strangely enough, he's headed to Philadelphia, too." When she notices my mood hasn't brightened at that, she adds, "Were you hoping it was somebody you knew, Mrs. Hamilton?"
I give her a forced smile and shake my head. "It doesn't matter now, Jane. We should get going now." And with that, I step back into the carriage.
It turns out that the driver (I still don't know his name, unfortunately) and Jane were eating breakfast outside when I woke. I didn't see them when I was looking out my window because they were on the other side of the carriage. Jane had heard me thumping about and had come over to investigate, only to see me leaned against the carriage, breathing heavily.
She must've thought I was going into labor or something. Poor girl.
Once the carriage starts moving again, I find myself relaxing more. Moving means getting closer to Hamilton. If you stop moving, then you stop making progress.
Jane and I spend the time knitting, of course, looking out the window, and occasionally asking each other questions. Her recent question to me was, "When did you meet Colonel Hamilton?"
I responded with, "1778." And then I returned her question with, "Do you have a husband or a sweetheart?" Jane had merely blushed at that, so I guess she has the latter.
We reach the next inn (the inn we were supposed to reach last night) around noon, and we stop to eat lunch. It's a sad little lunch, and a bit sketchy, too. It's lukewarm soup with a few scraggly, lumpy pieces of meat and a few random pieces of broccoli. After every bite, I quickly washed it down with water.
But it wasn't just the food that was rubbing me the wrong way. The patrons were, too. Several men leered at me from their seats, and I couldn't help but remember Hamilton's warning to me not so long ago.
Don't wander around taverns like this alone.
Well, I certainly wasn't about to do that here. After we finished eating, we quickly departed. I think all three of us were feeling a little antsy about that place. I'm glad we didn't sleep there because I have the feeling we would've been robbed. Not to mention that our carriage makes us stand out. We practically scream, "We're wealthy! Come steal from me!"
So when the carriage began rolling away from that building, I breathed a sigh of relief and watched as it became smaller and smaller until it disappeared over the horizon. After that, I settled for reading a book that I'd brought and had only just remembered I'd taken.
But as the sun begins to dip down, I start to feel drowsy and I only imagine that at this time at The Pastures I'd be just finished with dinner and slipping up to my room to sleep. So I rest my head against the wall of the carriage and swiftly fall asleep.
I feel hands shaking me awake and I open my eyes groggily. My vision is hazy, so I can only see the outline of Jane's face as she whispers, "Mrs. Hamilton, we're at the next tavern." I blink a few times and Jane's face comes into sharp focus.
She blinks down at me and repeats what she said. I nod in understanding and Jane shifts away from me as I sit upright. I brush my hair back away from my face and straighten my dress. I've just finished doing both when my door opens. I look up to see Jane standing there.
I didn't even realize she'd slipped out of the carriage.
"Thank you," I say as she extends a hand to help me out of the carriage.
My feet land on squashy mud, and I wrinkle my nose as I quickly grab my dress and lift its hem from the ground to avoid it from getting dirty. The carriage starts moving away behind me as the driver takes it around back, leaving Jane and I standing there alone. I notice her eyes lingering on the driver.
"Let's go inside," I suggest, shivering against the sudden cold. Jane nods in agreement and we both begin walking towards the door of the tavern.
I can already hear bawdy music inside, and the yell of men as they sing along. When Jane swings the door open for me, I stop at the threshold in shock as I take in the mass of men.
Every table is filled with men in blue and buff uniforms and normal clothes alike. Almost all of them are sipping at their sloshing ale, thrusting it into the air at every note in the song before chugging it down. I spot the origin of the music in the corner of the room. It's three men. Two are playing rapidly at a fiddler, and the other holds a triangle, which he periodically rings with a small stick.
I don't know how long I stand there on the threshold in surprise.
"Ah, Eliza, thank goodness you're here!" a man shouts from my left. I don't have time to turn towards that familiar voice before someone wraps their arm around my waist and tugs me inside.
I stumble a little as he leads me around the outskirts of the tavern's dining room, too surprised and too focused on not tripping on the uneven floorboards to speak. He leads me to an empty table in the corner and pulls the chair out for me. Once I'm sitting, he walks around the table and sits across from me.
I stare into his blue eyes.
I whisper one word full of surprise.
"Alexander."
***
I realized I didn't post a chapter yesterday, so I decided I would post it today instead of waiting till Monday, so here you go!!