I busied myself with arranging my cloak, as if preparing for the end of our journey. I should have known better than to say such things about Colonel Hamilton to Papa. It wasn’t that Papa couldn’t understand. It was more that he wouldn’t. In his head he’d already decided that Colonel Hamilton would be acceptable as a suitor for me, and that was the end of it. The subject was done.
Mamma claimed proudly that Papa’s ability to make up his mind quickly and progress forward to the next decision was why he had been a successful general, and perhaps it was. My opinions were of no consequence, because his thoughts had already moved elsewhere, doubtless to the confidential meeting he would have with General Washington later in the evening. How could my humble opinions rival that?
I smoothed my gloves and sighed, and resolved to let it pass. But I could understand now why my sister Angelica had eloped rather than battle with Papa about her own choice of a husband.
The horses had stopped before a clapboard house, with candles already lit within against the dwindling daylight and smoke from the fires that my father so craved curling from the chimneys. The house belonged to Dr. Jabez Campfield and his wife; Dr. Campfield was an army surgeon who had agreed to quarter my aunt and uncle during the winter encampment. In a town where lodging was at a premium, the arrangement between the two medical gentlemen had become both gracious and convenient. Still, as was the case everywhere in Morristown, we would be a crowd in the house, with not only Dr. and Mrs. Campfield and their young son, their servants, and the doctor’s two apprentices, but my aunt and uncle, their two sons, their servants, and now me as well.
Aunt Gertrude must have heard the horses, for we hadn’t yet climbed from the sleigh before the door to the house flew open and she came out to greet us herself, heedless of the cold. Before long we’d been swept inside and my father was blissfully before the fire he’d craved. Soon after, we all dined together—my father, my aunt and uncle, and Dr. and Mrs. Campfield—and after so many meals among strangers in the drafty common rooms of inns and taverns it was a great pleasure to be among family and friends. But Papa didn’t linger at the table, excusing himself as soon as the cloth was drawn and leaving for His Excellency’s headquarters a half mile away.
I, too, retreated to my bedchamber to oversee Rose as she unpacked my trunks. Mamma had made a loan to me of Rose, one of our Negroes, to act as my lady’s maid and to dress my hair for me while I was here in Morristown. Rose and father’s manservant had only just arrived, having traveled more slowly in the sledge with our baggage, and she was now beginning to shake out my gowns. I joined her, trying to decide what of my belongings to unpack and which to leave for now in the trunks. As was to be expected, my room was small for all that Mamma had insisted I needed to bring with me.
We’d scarcely begun before Aunt Gertrude joined us. My aunt resembled my father, with the dark eyes and long nose of their family, as well as the same practical streak. But while in years she was the older sibling, she had always seemed much younger to me. This was perhaps because after being widowed and then remarrying, she’d surprisingly become the mother of two more sons, now aged nine and three, the younger born when my aunt was fifty-three.
“So many clothes, Eliza!” she said with unabashed approval as she sat in the ladder-back chair that was the only one in the room. “But you’re wise to have brought them, my dear. Wartime or not, the young ladies here dress to captivate the officers. The competition will be very fierce.”
I laughed uneasily, and sat across from her on the edge of the bed. I hoped she was exaggerating. I didn’t possess the necessary cattiness for ballroom skirmishes with other ladies, and I didn’t enjoy them.
“I cannot imagine that the competition will be very heated when the men so outnumber the ladies.”
“Yes, yes, they do,” my aunt admitted, picking up a mother-of-pearl fan edged with sequins from my trunk. “But there are men, and there are gentlemen, and then there are the best gentlemen, if you take my meaning. My, this is a pretty thing!”
She spread the fan and held it over her mouth, mimicking a coquette.
“It’s French,” I said, not really interested in the fan. “Which gentlemen do you mean, Aunt?”
“There are the ones to be avoided at all cost,” she said, clicking the fan shut blade by blade. “The gentlemen who are intemperate, for whom strong drink is their mistress. The gentlemen with fiery tempers, and the ones who play too deeply at cards. The gentlemen who seek a mistress for the winter, not a wife for a lifetime. The worst, of course, are the married gentlemen who conveniently forget their wives and children at home when they come to winter encampment, and act as if they were bachelors. And then there is Colonel Hamilton.”
Rose was holding a folded bundle of shifts and stockings, waiting for my decision. I nodded, grateful for the distraction, and pointed to the small chest of drawers beside the window.
“Why would you mention the colonel with those other ill-favored gentlemen?” I asked as carelessly as I could. “Or has he earned a place among them whilst here in Morristown?”
“I don’t believe General Washington gives him sufficient time to be a wastrel, even if he wished it,” my aunt said. “The colonel is as fine a gentleman as can be, Eliza, but I will be honest with you: he has not been pining alone beneath the moon and waiting for you to arrive.”
I blushed, for that was painfully close to what I’d been imagining. It wasn’t that I had expected him to be as chaste as a monk in his cloister while away from me. I’d no right to hope for that. But in my thoughts I’d always pictured him as stoic and solitary, his heart pure and devoted to liberty. I realized now how foolish this was, and how unrealistic, too, which only made me feel more the perfect fool. After all, the colonel was young and handsome and a soldier, and soldiers were notoriously free with their affections; my aunt’s catalog of rogues in the camp was likely entirely accurate.
To my relief, my aunt continued without noticing my discomfort.
“Since he has been in town this winter, the gossips have claimed the colonel to be hopelessly in love with at least three different ladies,” she said. “Or rather women, not ladies, for I should not describe any of them that nicely. Along with the colonel’s other qualities, he does have the reputation of being something of a gallant—but then, what young man isn’t?”
“They all do,” I said, striving to echo her nonchalance. Striving, but not entirely succeeding, though again she took no notice.
“Exactly so,” my aunt said, nodding sagely. “But I do believe he is intelligent enough to realize the difference between a passing infatuation at a camp assembly, and the honorable and loving life he might have with a lady like you. In that brief meeting in Albany, you must have pleased him with your kindness, your intelligence, and, of course, your beauty. He would not have asked after you if you didn’t.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” I said faintly.
“No, indeed,” my aunt said shrewdly. “Nor would I have invited you to come here, either. But I tell you all this with a purpose, Eliza. If you decide that the colonel is the gentleman for you—or even if you wish the opportunity to decide—then you must act. You are a prize, yes, but he will not wander your way willy-nilly. You must plot and wage a campaign to capture the colonel’s heart, and be prepared to defend your prize once it is yours.”
This was a far different conversation than the one I’d had earlier with Papa. He clearly believed that Colonel Hamilton would in fact be mine for the taking, like an apple that dropped from the tree into my hand of its own accord. Aunt Gertrude, however, expected me to climb to the highest branches of the apple tree, reach for
