MY THEODOSIA (6 page)

He looked around for approval, and Aaron said heartily: 'An excellent idea, sir. Let us drink a toast to the du Ponts and their powder mill'. Glasses were politely raised to lips, and the conversation became general again.

The meal wore on, until the servants removed remnants of the main course and bore in the sweets, fruits, and cheeses, a half-dozen puddings, and a huge salver of rapidly melting ice cream flavored with the vanilla beans that were so costly.

On the other side of Alston sat little Katie Brown, whose provocative dimples usually made havoc of masculine hearts. In desperation, Theo signaled her secretly to help out with the entertainment of the difficult young man between them, but Katie's response was only an expressive rolling of the eyes and a shrug. She had no time to waste on a lout who replied to her best sallies with a bored stare. 'Impossible,' Katie mouthed to Theo, who was in entire agreement. Still Aaron's eyes were on her, watching and commanding, and she redoubled her efforts, deciding to abandon subtlety.

'Do you not like us, Mr. Alston?' she asked sweetly. 'You have not smiled once since we sat at table. Are the victuals ill-cooked, or is the company not to your taste?'

Alston looked up from his plate, and she saw surprise in his heavy face. 'Why, the victuals are good, ma'am,' he said slowly, 'and the company pleasing enough. I do not smile unless I see something to smile at, and that is not often'. Obviously, thought Theo.

'But in South Carolina——' she persisted. 'When you are in the company of young ladies, do you not sometimes murmur sweet nothings, and rally them a bit? Or are the young ladies of your country so much more charming than we poor New Yorkers?' She looked archly at him through her lashes, caring little whether he thought her forward.

To her mortification, he pushed back his plate and considered her question as seriously as though she had put to him a proposition in Euclid.

'Why, the young ladies of South Carolina are very well, very well, indeed. A trifle more genteel pallor and delicacy than those up here, perhaps, but these, too, seem amiable and pretty'. His prominent eyes examined her blushing face with the first spark of interest she had seen in them.

'Indeed, Miss Burr,' he went on solemnly, 'I find your appearance not inferior to that of some of our reigning belles. Be assured as to that.'

'Oh, thank you very much, Mr. Alston!' Her voice shook, and she dared not look at Katie, who she saw was quivering with ill-suppressed giggles.

Fortunately, the time had come to clear the board. The servants removed the tablecloth and substituted dishes of fruit and nuts, before placing a clean wineglass beside each gentleman.

Theo rose, and the other ladies with her. They quitted the dining-room in a rustle of perfumed silk and polite murmurs, while the men drew nearer to their host and prepared for the serious business of after-dinner toasts.

Alexis passed a tray of Havana cigars and snuff. Joseph Alston helped himself to a cigar, sniffed it disdainfully, and replaced it with one from his pocket.

Aaron watched him, amused. He now had the young man's exact measure. These wealthy Carolina planters were brought up en prince, having unlimited power over hundreds of black souls, as well as many white ones. They were in fact overlords, and the regal manner came naturally. That they were also narrow and insular, with little interest outside of their own closely guarded society, was natural too. But in this particular specimen he noted that underneath the brusque and irritating manner lay a core of uncertainty. Mr. Alston was ill at ease in an atmosphere unfamiliar to him, and therefore his immature personality was both hurt and hostile. Adroit handling would change that. Moreover, Theo had already made a far stronger impression than she knew. Her vivacity had intrigued Alston, though he had not as yet realized it. Aaron was well content.

He rose glass in hand and smiled his warm smile. No matter how numerous the recipients of that smile, it always contrived to convince each one of Colonel Burr's special regard, and now every face responded—with one exception.

'Gentlemen, I wish to propose some toasts. First, the health of our illustrious President, Mr. John Adams.'

Glasses tinkled as they drank. Hamilton watched Burr, and his mouth curled.

Aaron went on. 'The health of our next President, the great and glorious——' He paused, and a flicker of malicious amusement crossed his face. The men stared. In view of Burr's party, Jefferson's name was surely the only one which could follow.

Aaron began again with leisured relish, 'To our next President, the great and glorious unknown'. He looked full at Hamilton, who choked, thinking that Burr had contrived this with his usual hypocrisy.

The substitution of 'unknown' would be accepted by the other guests as a delicate compliment to the only Federalist present, but Hamilton knew very well that his host had meant, 'the great and glorious Aaron Burr'. It was a challenge, subtle, of course, as was this insinuating schemer's every act, but none the less a challenge. Hamilton marked it down.

Aaron was amused by his opponent's annoyance. He enjoyed a contest of wits as much as Hamilton hated it, nor did he realize the depth of the other's enmity. Hamilton himself could not.have explained the instant dislike he had conceived for Burr from the time of their first association as young officers in General Washington's military family. Though he had resented the similarity between their persons and ambitions, and the contrast between his own tarnished boyhood in the West Indies and Burr's aristocratic background of wealth, education, and respectability, it went deeper than that.

Aaron, still on his feet, proposed another toast. 'And now, gentlemen, I give you one of our company ... a young man of great estate and ancient lineage, a gentleman of culture and understanding, who is most certainly destined to carve his name upon the tablets of our country's history. I give you Mr. Joseph Alston.'

So, thought Hamilton, as he rose with the rest, that's the way the cat jumps now. And for what purpose is Burr shoveling flattery at this oaf of a planter who is obviously destined to carve his name on nothing more enduring than his own rice swamps? He pondered this without result.

In between the toasts that followed, Aaron conversed with Joseph Alston, awakening in him, by the simple method of telling him of them, sentiments that he had not known he possessed.

The young planter relaxed, puffing at his cigar. Colonel Burr, it seemed, thought him wondrous patriotic, found that he had great understanding of the country's needs. Joseph hazarded a few remarks and found that they revealed conspicuous political acumen. Dazzled by this new picture of himself, he suddenly realized that none but Colonel Burr had ever had the penetration to value him at his true worth. A hazy glow of good-will subdued his habitual truculence. He helped himself to repeated glasses of Madeira, until Aaron, who had barely sipped from his own glass, pushed back his chair.

'What do you say, gentlemen, to a game of loo or whist or dicing? Though I believe that the younger ones amongst us may prefer to dance. At any rate, let us join the lovely charmers who await us, I trust, impatiently.'

In the drawing-room the ladies upon finishing dinner had divided themselves into two natural groups. At one end by the fireplace, the matrons clustered around Mrs. Hamilton and enjoyed a technical discussion about a difficult lying-in. Even Mrs. Jay inclined her stately head and gave it as her opinion that a drop of laudanum was permissible at such a time. 'Though, mind you, I don't hold with coddling. Our Creator intended women to suffer, and has given us the strength to stand it.'

Sophie du Pont made a tiny choked sound. 'Does eet—is eet so bad?' she whispered.

The ladies looked at her frightened face, and Mrs. Hamilton's softened with quick sympathy. 'My dear child, I didn't realize. How stupid of me to talk like that! I can see now, but really with these new styles one can hardly tell, can one? No, of course it's not so bad.'

Sophie tried to smile. 'But I am so old for a first. Twenty-five.'

The ladies clucked dismay; not one of them but had had a full nursery by that time. Still, Mrs. Hamilton launched into detailed advice, for, by virtue of her many pregnancies, she was an authority. Sophie listened respectfully.

At the other end of the long room the girls twittered like starlings. They had intended to try some recently imported songs on Theo's magnificent new pianoforte. Angelica Hamilton and Theo enjoyed duets. But Angelica was more than musically talented, she was touched with genius, and Theo found herself unable to follow the other girl's brilliant performance. So they gave it up. Angelica played soft roulades and chords to herself, while the others abandoned music for more exciting topics.

'La!' cried Katie wickedly, 'such goings-on as I have seen here tonight! Natalie making eyes at the Count, and our Theo positively throwing herself at Mr. Whatever-his-name-is from Carolina. I blushed for you, my pet—truly I did.'

'I did not throw myself at his head!' cried Theo indignantly. 'I was but being polite.'

Natalie nodded, her plain little face showing annoyance. 'You must not say such silly things, Katie. I only make nice talk with le comte de Joliette to make him feel at ease, and Theo the same for Mr. Alston'. She opened her reticule and, extracting a handkerchief to be embroidered, inserted a needleful of silk. Natalie's hands were never idle.

Katie tossed her yellow curls. 'Oh, to be sure—I was teasing. Still, it was rarely diverting eo watch Theo'. She giggled, drew down the corners of her mouth, and mimicked Alston's ponderous speech. '"Indeed, Miss Burr, I find your appearance not inferior to that of some of our reigning belles." What a compliment! Had it been I, I should have slapped him.'

Theo laughed. 'I nearly did. Still, it's doubtless very good for my vanity to be snubbed.'

Katie suddenly sobered, touched Theo's hand. 'You have no vanity. You're so pretty and accomplished, and you—you have so much.'

'So much?' Theo repeated slowly, squeezing Katie's hand in return. She had never thought of comparing her material circumstances with those of Katie, who lived over a shop in Pearl Street with a crotchety grandmother, and laughingly confessed to scrimping for months to buy the material for one new dress. Theo had always taken her possessions for granted : the horses and servants and abundant table, this new pianoforte, all the splendor of luxury that made Richmond Hill. Then the new gown tonight—it had cost twenty pounds—and the beautiful necklace. These were all part of the safe, pleasant scheme of things, part of her father's cherishing care.

But if she were deprived of everything material, it would not matter, she thought. She and her father could see more of each other if they dispensed with the elaborate panoply of living. There would be fewer people to distract them.

She pictured Aaron and herself relegated to a tumbledown cottage in the woods. She would cook his food over a romantically crackling fire; she could tend him and make him
more comfortable than might any number of servants. She saw herself busy, happy, indispensable.

And Aaron—she realized with a shock. What would he be doing? Impossible to imagine him chopping wood or watering stock. Even more impossible to see him clothed in sweaty homespun. Her idyll was ridiculous.

She smiled unconsciously, and Katie trilled with laughter. 'I vow you're thinking of John Vanderlyn. On him, at least, your beauty is not wasted. He stares at you ravenously.'

'Does he?' She was startled. 'I hadn't noticed.'

'Lawks!' Kitty's pretty jaw dropped. 'I truly believe you hadn't. You are the queerest girl. Hark! Here come the gentlemen now'. She straightened against the lyre-backed chair, crossed her feet demurely, and unfurling her ivory fan fluttered it with airy grace.

Natalie patted her already neat hair and shoved her embroidery hastily into the reticule. It was not comme il faut to let gentlemen see one doing anything that savored of domesticity. It would be lamentably bourgeois.

Angelica Hamilton ceased playing, twisted around on the stool, her long face both unhappy and self-conscious, now that she no longer had her music to support her. The other women, including the matrons, all melted into various attitudes. Only Theo had no part in the galvanic thrill which transformed them at the approach of masculine steps and voices.

She watched them with detachment and a twist of envy. They were all, even Natalie, expectant and excited, anticipating pleasure and the delights of flirtation. Yet, for her, the evening had grayed. The magical mood, the breathless joy which had been hers four hours ago when she entered this room, had somehow seeped away. It was a formless disappointment. Something that she ever anticipated was not coming.

She sighed, wishing that it were time for everyone to go home. Then she and Aaron would have their invariable bedtime chat, and he would make her laugh again with his wittily caustic comments on the guests.

The returning gentlemen were preceded by four hired musicians: two fiddlers, a harpist, and a pianist. The string players had brought their pitch-pipe. They were unused to playing with the pianoforte, which they regarded as a most unnecessary instrument. The orchestra broke into hot argument, which Aaron quelled. 'Tonight,' he announced, 'we shall have only cotillions and valses led by Mr. Barks at the pianoforte.'

More of this French craze, thought Hamilton sourly. No doubt the minuets and congos were no longer good enough for the magnificent Colonel Burr. He'd be damned if he'd caper around in a cotillion. Let the Republicans make fools of themselves if they wished to. He crossed the room and seated himself beside his wife.

'This gathering nauseates me,' he said in her ear. 'How much longer must we endure?'

'Sh-sh,' whispered Betsy Hamilton. 'You are intolerant, Sandy. The young people are enjoying themselves. Soon there will be a party of whist for you. Now behave yourself.'

He shrugged his shoulders, crossed his silken legs. She was right, of course. Good breeding demanded that one allow oneself to be bored, insulted, have one's dearest convictions outraged in the name of accepted hospitality. He should not have come. He had let the womenfolk persuade him. They were fond of little Theodosia. Poor child, lashed to the chariot wheels of such a father. He stared at Theo with rising irritation. Spoiled she was. Burr showered gifts on her as though she were a princess—or his mistress. It was preposterous, vulgar.