Dear, Hamilton

I Decide To Become A Rebel

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.