"If it was worse for you, it would have been worse for him." He makes it sound simple: an exchange. It isn't simple, obviously.
He almost hands Theodosia to Burr regardless of the state of his hands. He needs her. She needs him.
"At least that's what he tells himself," says Hamilton, "and what he tells everyone else. You don't have to defend him. Here," and he settles Theodosia carefully in Burr's arms.
"Son," says Washington, "might want to take your mate to the medic."
"Yes, sir," says Hamilton. He moves to his feet. "Thank you, sir." He means terribly much by it; he squares his shoulders and looks up, to Washington's towering form. The angry mood hasn't vanished, still leaves impressions around jaw and brow.
"The Reverend Edwards had no standing," Washington tells him. "Legal or ethical." He claps Hamilton on the shoulder.
no subject
He almost hands Theodosia to Burr regardless of the state of his hands. He needs her. She needs him.
"At least that's what he tells himself," says Hamilton, "and what he tells everyone else. You don't have to defend him. Here," and he settles Theodosia carefully in Burr's arms.
"Son," says Washington, "might want to take your mate to the medic."
"Yes, sir," says Hamilton. He moves to his feet. "Thank you, sir." He means terribly much by it; he squares his shoulders and looks up, to Washington's towering form. The angry mood hasn't vanished, still leaves impressions around jaw and brow.
"The Reverend Edwards had no standing," Washington tells him. "Legal or ethical." He claps Hamilton on the shoulder.