Love & War--An Alex & Eliza Story by Melissa de la Cruz

Author:Melissa de la Cruz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Young Readers Group
Published: 2018-04-17T04:00:00+00:00

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THEIR LACK OF china was solved not a half hour later, in the mercer’s shop that Eliza led Alex to on Broadway. In the middle of a relatively scant, though not unattractive, assortment of brocades and jacquards sat an entire service of the finest bone china Eliza had ever seen, painted with an intricate yet delicate pattern of brightly colored birds and flowers: cups and saucers, plates and chargers, salad bowls, dessert plates, and a full complement of serving dishes as well, including a four-legged covered fish plate that could have held a thirty-pound lobster.

It was an odd display to see in a fabric store, and Eliza was half afraid it was for show only, to set off the embroidered tablecloth beneath. She was delighted, then, when she made inquiries of the proprietor, to learn that the dishes had been left behind in one of the many empty houses the British abandoned when they fled the city. They could be had, she was told, “for a song,” though the price she was quoted, fifty shillings, seemed more like an opera than a ditty. In comparison, they were only going to pay their servants two pounds a month, for instance, in addition to room and board.

“A song?” Alex echoed, overhearing. “Well, turn up the lights, Broadway, because I’m about to start singing!” And, in fact, he crooned over the dishes as if they were a nursery full of newborn infants. Like Eliza, he savored the finer things in life, but unlike his wife, he had not grown up surrounded by them. On the one hand, this ensured that he never took his newfound privilege for granted, but it also made him a bit covetous, and sometimes a spendthrift as well. An impoverished childhood never fully leaves you, and Eliza was learning that her husband needed to surround himself with expensive items to remind himself that he was no longer poor—even if he wasn’t exactly rich either.

Eliza agreed that they were exquisite, but she had never thought of eating off dishes that did not originate with her family, or the family of friends. Still, they were as fine as anything that had ever graced her mother’s table, and clearly had belonged to gentlefolk. And she knew the price, however dear, was indeed a bargain. Her mother had paid as much for a single soup tureen. Admittedly the tureen was as large as a Russian samovar, but still. This was a steal, and she knew it, and before the offer could be rescinded, Alex was making out a promissory note and signing it with more flourish than John Hancock inscribing his name on the Declaration of Independence.

The Hamiltons were so astounded at their find they almost forgot to pick out material for curtains. But soon enough the dishes were purchased, along with the fabric, and Eliza made arrangements with the proprietor to return with Rowena to retrieve them. They had finally hired a few servants: Rowena, a middle-aged lady and her young son, Simon, who were starting the next day.

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