He shoves the blanket back at Burr, and lets it fall to the ground if Burr doesn't take it. "The quartermaster has that under your name," Hamilton shoots back. "It's not mine."
This, as a comeback, leaves something to be desired, but it's really all he's got.
A good thing he has the writing materials, though, because once he is back downstairs, he begins to write his defense.
--
The court martial starts after a week. Hamilton is in a fever of preparation during most of this time, arranging witnesses and testimony. As expected, the woman in question absolutely and categorically denies that Hamilton is the father; as expected, this makes little difference.
On the day of -- the trial would ordinarily be half an hour, an hour at the most, but Hamilton's reputation has ensured that the court knows to set aside the full day -- the case is commenced with the young man as a witness. He accuses Hamilton of visiting his sister, names him as the father. The gallery is tightly packed, as the omega woman is the widow of a British officer, and the conflict between Loyalist and Rebel has tensions high.
The widow:
"He is not the father." Her chin high. "My husband, killed this last October, left me with child on his death."
The court dismisses this. "A woman who has fallen cannot be expected to tell the truth," the military judge decides, "and therefore her testimony cannot be believed."
Hamilton seethes: the judge does not decide what happens if the woman is honorable.
A doctor:
"Were she pregnant since October, she should show in a greater way than she does."
A neighbor:
"I never saw him there before the new year."
The other families he's helped:
"Always brought bread, rain, snow, shine."
"Nursed little Patty, I couldn't get no rest, all her coughin'."
But the court isn't listening, Hamilton thinks. That one of them is visibly pregnant does not help matters. It's not working. Why isn't it working?
Hamilton is called to testify.
"I have behaved only in comportment with my position as a Continental Officer."
"You are accustomed to the presence of low women, are you not?"
Hamilton's eyes flare. "Excuse me?"
The prosecutor turns back to him. "Your mother. She was a low woman, was she not?"
"She was unable to divorce--"
"Nonresponsive, Your Honor."
"Agreed. Answer the question."
"She attempted to divorce--"
"Your Honor."
"Mr. Hamilton, the question."
"Perhaps I should rephrase. You yourself were both out of wedlock, were you not?"
Hamilton closes his eyes. "Yes."
And later:
"Now, what interest would a male alpha have in so many unmarried women?"
"I wanted to help them."
"To earn their gratitude?"
"No."
"They weren't grateful?"
"No, that wasn't the reason."
"Then what was the reason?"
"I have seen the reality of women left behind by cruel husbands, discarded by false men, and widowed by Providence. I saw my mother in them."
"You mean you considered them fallen."
"No! That's not what I meant."
"Did that make them easy prey, Mr. Hamilton?"
"I wouldn't know. I've never considered a widow or a child something that I would hunt, sir."
And then, when the case falls apart:
Laurens is called to the front of the gallery. He drops his eyes in shame, and Hamilton feels himself grow cold and afraid.
"Now, Mr. Laurens, what were Mr. Hamilton's sleeping arrangements during the last of '74?"
"With the aides, all of us in the same room."
"Did that change?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"I don't know."
"Was it January?"
"I don't think so."
"February?"
"It might have been late February."
Laurens is looking anywhere but Hamilton.
"How did it change?"
"He almost never stayed with us."
"And did he start reporting late?"
"He did."
"What is Mr. Hamilton's designation?"
"He's an alpha."
"Have you ever smelled something on him that wasn't alpha?"
Laurens hesitates.
No, no, thinks Hamilton.
"Yes," says Laurens, finally.
"What did you smell?"
"Omega."
The prosecutor presents a scarf to Laurens. "Is this the omega you smelled on Mr. Hamilton?"
No, please say no --
Laurens inhales, but hesitates. "I don't know," he says, finally.
The prosecutor calls Hamilton back after that.
"What was the identity of that omega?"
"That omega has not been a witness before this court."
"What was her name?"
Hamilton considers it; shamefully, he does consider it. But he shakes his head. "I will not answer that question."
"If you do not, you may be held in contempt. Will you answer, Mr. Hamilton?"
no subject
This, as a comeback, leaves something to be desired, but it's really all he's got.
A good thing he has the writing materials, though, because once he is back downstairs, he begins to write his defense.
--
The court martial starts after a week. Hamilton is in a fever of preparation during most of this time, arranging witnesses and testimony. As expected, the woman in question absolutely and categorically denies that Hamilton is the father; as expected, this makes little difference.
On the day of -- the trial would ordinarily be half an hour, an hour at the most, but Hamilton's reputation has ensured that the court knows to set aside the full day -- the case is commenced with the young man as a witness. He accuses Hamilton of visiting his sister, names him as the father. The gallery is tightly packed, as the omega woman is the widow of a British officer, and the conflict between Loyalist and Rebel has tensions high.
The widow:
"He is not the father." Her chin high. "My husband, killed this last October, left me with child on his death."
The court dismisses this. "A woman who has fallen cannot be expected to tell the truth," the military judge decides, "and therefore her testimony cannot be believed."
Hamilton seethes: the judge does not decide what happens if the woman is honorable.
A doctor:
"Were she pregnant since October, she should show in a greater way than she does."
A neighbor:
"I never saw him there before the new year."
The other families he's helped:
"Always brought bread, rain, snow, shine."
"Nursed little Patty, I couldn't get no rest, all her coughin'."
But the court isn't listening, Hamilton thinks. That one of them is visibly pregnant does not help matters. It's not working. Why isn't it working?
Hamilton is called to testify.
"I have behaved only in comportment with my position as a Continental Officer."
"You are accustomed to the presence of low women, are you not?"
Hamilton's eyes flare. "Excuse me?"
The prosecutor turns back to him. "Your mother. She was a low woman, was she not?"
"She was unable to divorce--"
"Nonresponsive, Your Honor."
"Agreed. Answer the question."
"She attempted to divorce--"
"Your Honor."
"Mr. Hamilton, the question."
"Perhaps I should rephrase. You yourself were both out of wedlock, were you not?"
Hamilton closes his eyes. "Yes."
And later:
"Now, what interest would a male alpha have in so many unmarried women?"
"I wanted to help them."
"To earn their gratitude?"
"No."
"They weren't grateful?"
"No, that wasn't the reason."
"Then what was the reason?"
"I have seen the reality of women left behind by cruel husbands, discarded by false men, and widowed by Providence. I saw my mother in them."
"You mean you considered them fallen."
"No! That's not what I meant."
"Did that make them easy prey, Mr. Hamilton?"
"I wouldn't know. I've never considered a widow or a child something that I would hunt, sir."
And then, when the case falls apart:
Laurens is called to the front of the gallery. He drops his eyes in shame, and Hamilton feels himself grow cold and afraid.
"Now, Mr. Laurens, what were Mr. Hamilton's sleeping arrangements during the last of '74?"
"With the aides, all of us in the same room."
"Did that change?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"I don't know."
"Was it January?"
"I don't think so."
"February?"
"It might have been late February."
Laurens is looking anywhere but Hamilton.
"How did it change?"
"He almost never stayed with us."
"And did he start reporting late?"
"He did."
"What is Mr. Hamilton's designation?"
"He's an alpha."
"Have you ever smelled something on him that wasn't alpha?"
Laurens hesitates.
No, no, thinks Hamilton.
"Yes," says Laurens, finally.
"What did you smell?"
"Omega."
The prosecutor presents a scarf to Laurens. "Is this the omega you smelled on Mr. Hamilton?"
No, please say no --
Laurens inhales, but hesitates. "I don't know," he says, finally.
The prosecutor calls Hamilton back after that.
"What was the identity of that omega?"
"That omega has not been a witness before this court."
"What was her name?"
Hamilton considers it; shamefully, he does consider it. But he shakes his head. "I will not answer that question."
"If you do not, you may be held in contempt. Will you answer, Mr. Hamilton?"
"No."