In 1775, New York City is a land of golden opportunity. Evangeline Shelby is a determined 18 year-old socialite, fleeing the turmoil of her family's history in Britain and hoping to make a fresh start.
She has no idea what fate has in store, howeve...
When we dumped the presents on the floor, we discovered that there were actually only give presents; some were just bigger than others. I was surprised to see that one of them was from Burr; I was touched that he regarded me high enough to send me a birthday present.
With Eliza and Peggy on either side of me, I opened my presents one by one. I received a book of blank sheet music from Alex ("For when you decide to put music with those lyrics."), a sketchbook and some drawing pencils from John, and a copy of The Castle of Otranto by Horace Walpole from Burr.
Mulligan's gift had a note attached to the front that just read, "Don't ask how I figured out what size you are." Huh? I carefully unwrapped the gift to reveal a beautiful, hand-stitched beige dress:
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He was right; I didn't want to know how he figured out what my measurements were. I still adored the dress though.
The gift I'd saved for last had a letter attached to the front of it. I didn't need to guess who it was from. I set the letter to the side, intending to read it later, and opened the small box. My cousins and I oooo-ed in unison as I took out a gold, heart-shaped locket.
"D'aww, how sweet!" Eliza cooed. Peggy snatched the letter and read the written label. When she looked back at me, her eyes glinted mischievously.
"So what day should we plan for the wedding, cousin?" she asked, her voice full of snark. I quickly grabbed the letter back and stuck my tongue out at her.
"Don't worry, Evie. We'll let you read your letters in peace," Eliza cooed. She helped me to my feet and sat me down on the sofa, letters placed delicately on my lap. "I'm going to go read in the library, and Peggy will take your gifts to your room. Won't you, Peggy?" She turned and smiled sweetly at her younger sister, who was still sat on the floor.
"I will?" she blanched.
"Mmmmhmmm." Eliza lifted her off the ground before shoving my gifts into her arms and pushing her out of the room.
"You're no fun," I heard Peggy whine as her voice faded down the hall. "Goodness..." I thought, shaking my head. It was at time like these when I could vaguely understand why people said that Peggy was an "acquired taste."
I absent-mindedly began opening one of the letters on my lap. Glancing down, I saw that it was General Washington's letter in my hands. Good, I'd wanted to read his letter first; something told me I'd be spending the rest of the day blushing after I read the second letter. I leaned back until I felt the sofa behind me, and began to read.
Ms. Evangeline Shelby,
I have never been the type to rely on flowery writing to convey my point in a soft, appealing manner. Preference for verbal confrontation has always won against written for most of my life; however, for reasons you could surely understand I felt the topic I'm about to discuss with you is a more delicate matter that could lose it's profoundness in conversation. I do not wish to steal too much of your time with this note, so I will make my position presently and clearly: I am aware of your history concerning your father.
Please forgive me for intruding on such a personal affair, but I could not help but make inquiries after our first meeting. You see, when I looked into your eyes that day, I saw a haunting look that has become quite frequent in my presence; why I am unsure. It was a look shared by my aide de camp Alexander Hamilton and the Marquis de Lafayette, two close acquaintances of yours as I've come to understand. It was the look of someone that grown without love, more specifically - as I've come to realize after learning of the previously mentioned soldiers' histories - the love of a father.
I confirmed my suspicions with your uncle, so you can rest assured I am not writing you uninformed of the facts. It is a terrible thing to lose a parent, but perhaps more terrible to have never really had one. Worry not, I have no intentions to try to persuade you to reconnect with your father. A man who puts his own malicious desires before the well-being of his family does not deserve a second chance. Rather, I write you to humbly ask if you would consider opening your heart to a replacement in that role.
I fully understand if you deny my offer; another man with whom you share blood, such as an uncle, may sometimes be the best alternative to a paternal figure in the absence of the father, and Philip Schuyler has clearly served that purpose well; satisfactorily at the least, I assume. Regardless, my position still stands. Though it was quite unexpected, my wife and I have mutually chosen to open our hearts to you - among others, nonetheless. You may pass along your response any way you wish; whether it be to me directly or through a messenger. Take care, my dear.
Sincerely,
George Washington
I let the paper fall onto my lap, and I stared off into space. George Washington, the general of the Continental Army, was basically offering to be my father. Of all the things I expected to happen in my life, that most definitely wasn't one of them.
On one hand, I was amazed that he had managed to deduce that my history of a good father-daughter relationship was quite lacking. On the other hand, I was slightly... peeved... that Uncle had told Washington about my biological father. That was a subject my mother had hoped to bury forever 19 years ago.
Regardless, I already knew my answer. It was perfectly clear, and almost rather obvious. After all, it's not everyday a man of good heart and morals offers to open his heart to you and treat you like his child. A smile bloomed across my face as I wondered when I would get the chance to tell the general that I would gladly accept his offer.
