arms to better see the sky. “It’s like magic, isn’t it? A full moon wrought from silver, there in the sky.”
His hands had settled familiarly around my waist above the whalebone arc of my hoops, and just that slight pressure of his palms against my sides was making my heart beat faster.
“You should see how the moon glows in the sky over Nevis,” he said. “There’s no magic involved, but a phenomenon caused by the island being so close to the equator. It’s every bit as bright as this, with the brilliance reflected and magnified by the sea below it.”
“Truly?” I said, trying to imagine what he described. “You make it sound very beautiful.”
“Oh, it is,” he assured me, but the way he said it made me think perhaps it wasn’t. “A sight worthy of the finest poets.”
He fell quiet, gazing up at the moon. He almost never mentioned the island where he’d been born, and I longed to know his thoughts.
“Does this make you wish to return home?” I asked. “The moon, I mean.”
“Nevis is no longer my home,” he said bluntly, “and I never wish to return. If I’d remained there, I would by now be dead. It’s the way of that place.”
The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. “But you’re here now,” I said. “Beneath an American moon, not a Nevis one.” I turned around to face him again, and placed my palms lightly on his chest. My right hand rested over his heart, something I didn’t realize until after I’d done it.
“You shall do wonderful things, Alexander,” I said fiercely, gazing up at him. “I’m sure of it. You are a man born to do great things. I only pray that I’ll be there to see you do them.”
Suddenly he smiled, and so warmly that I forgot I’d ever been cold. “You pray a great deal, Betsey.”
“I’ve prayed for you ever since that first night, exactly as I promised,” I said, my fingers spreading over the front of his waistcoat. “My prayers have been answered, too.”
“Perhaps mine have as well.” He reached up to cradle my jaw with one hand, gently turning my face up toward his. “You’re kind and generous and tender to a fault, especially where my wretched self is concerned. Have I told you that you’re beautiful as well?”
“You have,” I said playfully. “But I will listen if you choose to tell me again.”
He chuckled. “You are beautiful, dearest, surpassing beautiful and unmercifully handsome, and I’ll never tire of telling you that pretty truth. You have so addled my wits that the other night when I returned to headquarters from seeing you, I could not recall the password. Of course the sentry knew me, the dog, but he wouldn’t let me pass until Mrs. Ford’s boy rescued me with the proper word. That’s all your doing, Miss Elizabeth.”
I laughed, picturing him foundering at the front door before a grave-faced guard. “You cannot fault me for that!”
“I can, when it’s the truth.” His smile faded. “You speak of the future as if you can foresee what it holds. You’re so wise, perhaps you can. Do you know how honored I’d be to have you beside me in that future, Betsey? To know you’d be with me always, as you are now?”
My heart was beating so fast that it was almost painful within my breast.
“I could wish for nothing more than to be with you like that, Alexander,” I whispered. “Nothing.” I was trembling, for I’d never spoken like this to another man, nor had I ever desired to. “I—I love you, Alexander Hamilton.”
I wish I could have preserved that moment forever, how he looked at me with such boundless emotion and regard, as if I were the most worthy woman in the world.
“I love you, Elizabeth Schuyler,” he said solemnly, and yet I was sure I heard a tremor to his voice to match my own. “My joy, my happiness, my love. Do I have your leave to address your father?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. I suspect he didn’t trust his, either, for he spoke no further.
Instead, he kissed me.
How dry and dull those words seem when writ on paper! How, in their simplicity, they lack the riches that Alexander’s first kiss held for me! At first he barely touched his lips to mine in the kind of chaste salute that would have pleased even Aunt Gertrude. This kiss was an honorable pledge meant for marriage, the most sacred of sacraments for any woman, and as our lips came together, I realized his honorable regard and devotion for me. I felt cherished, and I felt loved.
But as glorious as that moment might have been, it would not long suffice for either of us. I will be honest: I’ll include my own impatience, however unseemly for a lady that may appear, for in this as in so many things Alexander and I were already in perfect union. That first brush of his lips over mine was like a spark to overdry tinder, and at once the heat of desire washed over me.
In innocent eagerness, I pressed my lips more ardently against his, and at once he responded. He slipped his hand from beneath my jaw to the back of my head and tangled his fingers into my hair, and slanted his mouth over mine to deepen the kiss. My lips parted beneath his, and with a hunger I’d never realized existed within me I tasted him as he tasted me. The heat of his kiss burned me with its unexpected passion, and made me yearn to become his even more completely. I slid my hands around his shoulders to steady myself, and shamelessly stretched my body against his.
I am not certain how long that first kiss lasted, there in the silver-bright moonlight. It seemed both an instant, and an eternity, with the only certainty being that I did not wish it to end. Yet like all things, finally it did, when with obvious reluctance Alexander lifted his mouth from mine.
I opened my eyes, still dazed with heady bliss. He was almost frowning as he gazed down at me, his lips still parted and his breathing quick, as was my own. My thoughts were muddled: I was a lady born, a Schuyler, and not one of the slatterns who frequented the camp. I tried to push away from him, belatedly fearing he’d think ill of me for encouraging such freedom.
“I—I am sorry, Alexander,” I stammered in confusion, my cheeks hot. “Forgive me for—”
“Hush,” he said softly, placing his fingers lightly over my newly kissed lips. “It must be I who apologizes, not you, dearest Betsey, nor can I lay the fault on the moonlight. Even in your innocence, you have that power over me. You tempt me so much, when I must show more regard for the lady whom I pray will one day soon be my wife.”
I smiled shyly, liking the notion that a lady-wife could be tempting, too, and pressed my lips against his fingertips.
“One day,” I breathed, liking those words. “And soon.”
CHAPTER 5
As magical as that night had been, I didn’t see Alexander the next day, or the next after that. Winter stepped between us, as it did so often that year. By the time the assembly had ended and I was once again bound for home in the Livingstons’ sleigh, that shining silver moon—our moon—had become obscured by thick clouds. Snow began falling before dawn, and continued to fall for the entire day and the next night, too. The skies remained as dark as if the sun had never risen, with the flakes falling so rapidly that all landmarks were lost in swirling white.
Every
