Shattered Realities- Historical Hamilton

MARTHA JEFFERSON

A tiny fist grabbed at the much longer finger of her father. "Good evening to you as well, my little lady." She dragged it to her mouth, as she has done with all else she could possibly grasp. He, of course, allowed such an action, even through his wife's quiet chuckling. 

"Ah, have we found another woman who can influence you as much as I?" She delights in the man's faux unamusement. He shakes his head- his hair, loose after a whole day of work, spills over his shoulders like the sunset that he did not join her for.

"Christ above, I hope not. One Martha is enough for that, dear." He gently removes his fingers, wipes it on his breeches like the gentleman he is. In the candlelight, he is a beautiful picture- this is all a beautiful picture. The handsome fiddler who captured her heart all those years ago, their child, herself and their Elk Hill, all for themselves.

It could have been a perfect picture, but the Lord had decided that it shall never be so. Jack's play toys still strayed the corners of the room, untouched.

"Perhaps you shall also have her to fuss over you once she is grown, Tom."

Somehow, he always knew. His hand, as soft as the falling snowflakes outside, covered her own. That evening, his eyes seemed to be a dark green.

"Do not be ridiculous, I have no need for that," he replied and smiled. "I shall have you, Mrs Jefferson."

"That you shall, Mr Jefferson," she replied, coy. He lovingly tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Even after all this time, he never failed to fluster her. "Aye, you shall have me, and I shall fuss over you until you have more grey hairs than red."

"And after that?"

"Well, I shall fuss that I have not fussed over you enough, of course."

He hummed, and his hands came to lie on her waist. "Sounds like heaven."

"And you shall retire from your politics."

He winced apologetically. "Eventually, dear. Eventually, I shall." They have had this conversation many times now, and he was clearly unwilling to have it again on such a serene night. "And then we shall dance, and dance, in our home, and our the wellbeing of our children shall be our only worries."

"Ach, such a romantic." But the image he painted sounded like heaven. Just him and her, forever, without his work that keeps taking him away from her. "And then you shall be entirely mine."

He chuckles, swaying her to a melody that only he hears. "Can I not have two loves?"

"Absolutely not. You are mine, Tom." She tugged at his collar possessively, and he brung their noses together. "Mine entirely. You did not make your vows to Congress, but to me- I should not let it take you away from me as it does."

"I am yours," He agreed. "And I shall always be yours."

Patsy cried out, and their tense moment passed. He laughed, and he sounded like the silver bells on their windowsill.

"Well, perhaps I belong to both of you now. Is that perhaps agreeable, my lady?" 

She laughs. "I shall accept what. After all, she is much to lovely to disagree with." Hopefully, she shall live long enough to understand what lovely even meant. And if Patsy would be another reason he returned home, than she shall find no qualms with that.