Dear George, Dear Mary~A Novel of George Washington's First Love by Mary Calvi

Author:Mary Calvi [Calvi, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1250162947
Amazon: B07D2BZ698
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2019-02-19T00:00:00+00:00

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GEORGE VIEWED THE belle as she walked rather quickly down the staircase to greet him. The fabric of her gown matched the tones of his costume, red-and-white shimmery striped silk. As the light of a sun’s ray through the window landed on her, her décolletage was visible to him.

When she reached him, dimples on her left and right cheeks greeted him. He realized, here and now, that the time apart from her had pained him. “Mary Eliza Philipse.” He slowly kissed one hand and the other.

She sighed. “The days have been dreadfully long without you.”

He followed her through the foyer. She wore her hair up in a style that displayed her smooth neck and shoulders. Her upswept waves wrapped around a floral crown that he was admiring as she turned toward him.

“Do you like it?”

George nodded.

“The Myosotis.” Mary lightly touched the small blue flower buds. “Legend states that the wearer of the forget-me-not will never be forgotten.”

Forgotten she would never be, he thought.

She smiled with a blush and continued into the parlor, where a fire burned brightly in the hearth. Her aroma lingered as she walked, so redolent of what beauty should smell like.

Frederick approached with a woman standing close by him. “Colonel Washington.” Frederick reached over and gave him a firm grip. “Have you been acquainted with Mrs. Elizabeth Rutgers?”

George greeted her politely.

“Would you care for a beverage, Colonel? Ale? Wine?” asked Frederick.

“Wine and bitters, please.”

Frederick hesitated. His brows lifted. “Together?”

George didn’t think much of his drink choice. He often combined Madeira with lemon juice, nutmeg, and a sprinkle of sugar.

Frederick shrugged his shoulders and turned to a man George recognized from the other night at the banquet, the French chef who had worn a toque. He wore it still.

“François, if you would, wine and bitters for the colonel. For you, Polly, as well?”

She said yes. Both of her hands were wrapped around George’s bent elbow.

“Colonel, you bring us a new way of thinking,” Frederick acknowledged. “Wine and bitters, interesting.”

The drinks were delivered with a stirrer made of a feather with its bottom half cleared.

“’Tis a peacock’s tail?” asked Frederick.

François handed the beverages to George and Mary. “Do you not approve, Lord Philipse?”

“My thanks for the cock tail.” George gave the chef a nod.

“A cock tail for me, as well,” said Frederick. “And one for Beverley. Beverley, would you care for a cock tail?”

Beverley looked perplexed but nodded in agreement.

After they received the cocktails, Frederick beckoned them and the few other invited guests to gather: “A toast to our guest of honor,” declared Frederick. “On this, your birthday of the twenty-fourth year. We wish you success in your endeavors! And now, we shall partake in the games of the evening.” Frederick led the group into the drawing room, where tables were set up.

George offered Mary a chair. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from her as he watched her frame delicately take a seat by a kindling fire. It appeared her heart was growing attached to him. True devotion.

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