The boy follows more cautiously, and Hamilton orders him a meal from the innkeeper, and then, after a moment of hesitation, more meals for all of them. They all look hungry and tired.
"We can wait," says Hamilton. "It would be stranger for a mated pair and a newborn baby to travel so hard, anyway." He kisses Burr's hand, held in his own left hand, as his eyes are focused on the letter he is writing with his right. "And I would be a terribly cruel alpha if I insisted on it."
He writes the letter in a way that conceals its purpose -- does not address the General as Your Excellency, but as Respected Sir, and writes in it that he sends his brother (Laurens, obviously) with a friend from up North to help with the new business. He also begs pardon for his brother's hastiness in departing without any word, and pleads that he wait for Hamilton and his husband to return before deciding what to do about it.
Satisfied that it is clear but that it contains nothing incriminating, Hamilton passes the letter to Burr and Laurens, to see if they have any suggestions or edits.
"Excuse me, sir," says an older man, who had been resting by the fire. "Are ye writing letters?"
"Yes, sir," returns Hamilton, a bit coldly, as it is an impudent way to begin a conversation.
"Your hand is very good indeed," the old man says. "Are ye a secretary?"
"A clerk, sir," says Hamilton.
"A clerk, a clerk. Sorry for the bother," says the old man, ducking his head, "but I can't read, nor write. Could I trouble ye to write a letter to my son? He's gone off to war, with General Putnam -- I'd very much like to send him a letter. I'll pay ye -- for the trouble and the ink and paper."
Hamilton's countenance has softened. "It is no trouble," he assures, "and little ink and paper. Wait only until I've had a bit to eat, and I'll oblige."
The man's face brightens up, wrinkled and sun-baked, into a genuine smile, though one missing a few teeth. "Aye, I'll wait -- gladly."
True to his word, after he's had a bit less than his fill (pushing the rest to Burr and to Elias), Hamilton approaches the older man and faithfully records his words, by firelight, his pen drawing careful loops on the paper. He is very patient with it, and addresses the envelope as well.
As he's finished, the innkeeper's wife approaches him. "Looks like you and that omega need a room for the night," she says, and she names a price.
Hamilton raises an eyebrow. "I would never insult a lady's housekeeping, madam," he says, "but that figure seems more appropriate for a flea-ridden shed, than a well-kept room."
A hint of a smile on the matron's face. "Ah well, you did a kindness," she says, with a nod at the old man. "Go on and take one, too."
He bows to her, and gathers his little desk, and his papers, and returns to the table, to Burr.
"Rested enough?" Laurens asks Elias.
"This's more than restored me," Elias boasts. "I could ride all the way to General Washington's camp tonight on a stew like that."
"Then we're off." Laurens focuses on Hamilton. "Be careful, both of you." Focuses on Burr, too. "I can't lose my family."
Hamilton's heart gives a little jump, at that word.
After they go, he turns to Burr. "I am sorry, for asking him to be the godfather, without asking you first -- she was only just born, and I'm afraid sentiment quite ran away with me. And then I couldn't think of the right time to ask you, and instead I let myself be distracted. I hope you approve of him."
no subject
"We can wait," says Hamilton. "It would be stranger for a mated pair and a newborn baby to travel so hard, anyway." He kisses Burr's hand, held in his own left hand, as his eyes are focused on the letter he is writing with his right. "And I would be a terribly cruel alpha if I insisted on it."
He writes the letter in a way that conceals its purpose -- does not address the General as Your Excellency, but as Respected Sir, and writes in it that he sends his brother (Laurens, obviously) with a friend from up North to help with the new business. He also begs pardon for his brother's hastiness in departing without any word, and pleads that he wait for Hamilton and his husband to return before deciding what to do about it.
Satisfied that it is clear but that it contains nothing incriminating, Hamilton passes the letter to Burr and Laurens, to see if they have any suggestions or edits.
"Excuse me, sir," says an older man, who had been resting by the fire. "Are ye writing letters?"
"Yes, sir," returns Hamilton, a bit coldly, as it is an impudent way to begin a conversation.
"Your hand is very good indeed," the old man says. "Are ye a secretary?"
"A clerk, sir," says Hamilton.
"A clerk, a clerk. Sorry for the bother," says the old man, ducking his head, "but I can't read, nor write. Could I trouble ye to write a letter to my son? He's gone off to war, with General Putnam -- I'd very much like to send him a letter. I'll pay ye -- for the trouble and the ink and paper."
Hamilton's countenance has softened. "It is no trouble," he assures, "and little ink and paper. Wait only until I've had a bit to eat, and I'll oblige."
The man's face brightens up, wrinkled and sun-baked, into a genuine smile, though one missing a few teeth. "Aye, I'll wait -- gladly."
True to his word, after he's had a bit less than his fill (pushing the rest to Burr and to Elias), Hamilton approaches the older man and faithfully records his words, by firelight, his pen drawing careful loops on the paper. He is very patient with it, and addresses the envelope as well.
As he's finished, the innkeeper's wife approaches him. "Looks like you and that omega need a room for the night," she says, and she names a price.
Hamilton raises an eyebrow. "I would never insult a lady's housekeeping, madam," he says, "but that figure seems more appropriate for a flea-ridden shed, than a well-kept room."
A hint of a smile on the matron's face. "Ah well, you did a kindness," she says, with a nod at the old man. "Go on and take one, too."
He bows to her, and gathers his little desk, and his papers, and returns to the table, to Burr.
"Rested enough?" Laurens asks Elias.
"This's more than restored me," Elias boasts. "I could ride all the way to General Washington's camp tonight on a stew like that."
"Then we're off." Laurens focuses on Hamilton. "Be careful, both of you." Focuses on Burr, too. "I can't lose my family."
Hamilton's heart gives a little jump, at that word.
After they go, he turns to Burr. "I am sorry, for asking him to be the godfather, without asking you first -- she was only just born, and I'm afraid sentiment quite ran away with me. And then I couldn't think of the right time to ask you, and instead I let myself be distracted. I hope you approve of him."