The Whiskey Rebel

“How is it that you came to work for Hamilton?”

“Having done what I did with the Maroons, I did not wish to return to a life of trade, though that is how I first supported myself. Once the government moved to Philadelphia, upon a whim I presented myself to Hamilton. He has since found work for me serving the country, though this is the first time I have served him directly.”

“Why Hamilton?” I asked. “Why did you seek him out of all men? Is it the West Indian co

“It was more than our geographical co

This was a greater surprise than his past co

Lavien shook his head. “They had no children. My uncle was a monster, and the lady was right to run from him. Hamilton has every reason to dislike me for my name-and my face, I suppose; I’m told I look a bit like my uncle. Yet Hamilton has been nothing but kind.”

I found this hard to believe but did not say so. “As Hamilton admires you so much,” I suggested, “perhaps you might come with me when I speak to him. You might try to persuade him to let me in on your secrets.”

He shook his head. “I do not like to visit Hamilton at Treasury. I prefer other venues.”

I smiled. “Of course. Hamilton was always uneasy about his lowly origins. It would not do to so remind the world, let alone to parade his Hebrew near-kinsman before subordinates.”

“He does not like to be reminded of his origins, it is true, but there are more complicated matters at work here.”

I sipped my wine. What could these more complicated matters be? My thoughts were clouded by drink, but even so I found the truth in the thicket of obscurity. “ Jefferson doesn’t know about you, does he? You do not visit Hamilton at Treasury because you do not want it known that you work for Hamilton or what sort of work you do. If the Jeffersonians were to put it about that the Jewish nephew of Hamilton ’s mother’s first husband was slinking about the city looking into the business of wealthy families, they would piss their pants with glee.”

“You see right to the heart of things,” he said. “It is no inconsiderable skill.”

“One you could use,” I said.

“If that is Colonel Hamilton’s will, then I think so.”

“You understand that Hamilton hates me, don’t you? It was he who exposed my supposed treachery to the world. He promised he would hold the accusations against me secret, but he could not spread the word fast enough.”

“Why do you say so? Have you evidence to prove it?”

“It is what I heard, and I believe it.”

“Did Colonel Hamilton tell you that he would protect your reputation?” Lavien asked me.

“Yes, and he lied.”

“If he said he would protect your reputation, then he did. Colonel Hamilton was not the one who maligned you, sir, and unless you have proof otherwise, I will not believe it. It is not something he would do.”

“I knew Jefferson had his worshipers, but I did not know Hamilton was also blessed.”

“I am not a worshiper, but I know the man, and I have too much respect for the truth to believe an obvious falsehood when I see one. If you like, I could use the resources my position offers to launch a full inquiry into what happened those years ago.”

Something uncomfortable twisted inside me. “I should very much prefer to keep the past where it belongs,” I said. “What is done ca

He nodded. “Then let us turn to the present. I wonder if I ought to send someone to look for Leonidas? You may fear to seek him out, but I see no reason why I may not do so.”

I sat up straight in my chair. “Why, I would be most grateful. Very decent of you.”

Lavien excused himself, and when he returned perhaps half an hour later, he said that he had sent a boy from a nearby coffeehouse with instructions to ask about Southwark for a man of Leonidas’s description, and that, should he be found, he would meet me the next morning at a nearby tavern.

After I’d had my fill of wine, I told him I wished to retire, and Lavien bade me good night, saying he had work yet to do that evening. I assured him I could find my own way to my room, and so, taking a candle, I ascended the stairs, steep and narrow as in a Dutchman’s house. When I reached the second-floor landing, Mrs. Lavien emerged from her children’s room.

“I heard Jonathan fussing,” she told me, as though some explanation were necessary. “I hope you find your room comfortable.”

“Oh, very,” I told her. “I never mind a garret, and it is made up quite elegantly for a room of that species. Yet, Mrs. Lavien, there is something of solitude I do not like, and I ca

She glanced back and forth and then, to my delight, ascended the stairs to my room. I followed her, my single candle providing scant illumination, but enough to watch the delicious movement of her form under her pretty yellow gown. She had a commanding presence, a recklessness that reminded me of Cynthia Pearson as she had been all those years ago, when she was Cynthia Fleet.

Here, too, was a woman who craved excitement, who delighted in the pleasures of the illicit. Why should I not accommodate her? Yes, her husband had done me a kindness, but had she not done me a kindness too, and would it not be mean of me to demur from returning the favor? She had acted the proper wife all evening, devoted to children and husband, managing her home both with earnestness and good cheer, but what Lavien did not understand-it was quite apparent now-was that she was also a woman with complex desires.

We reached the top of the stairs, and though my sensations were fuzzy from all I had drunk that night, still I felt the excitement rising inside me. My heart pounded and my pulse beat in my neck. I closed the door behind me and set the light upon a small writing desk in the corner.

“Indeed, I was right,” I said, “for in being here, you do make the room so much more-”

“How very broken you are,” she said. Her voice was soft, confused, and even a little sad.

“I beg your pardon?” I felt the prickling of something ill-not danger but yet unpleasant.

“You heard me, Mr. Saunders.” Her voice had an icy edge I did not like at all. “You must be broken in your soul. My husband and I invite you to our home, taking you in when you are in need of shelter, and in response to this kindness you choose to offer me insult. I wish to know what portion of your heart, of your soul, is so damaged that you would do such a thing.”

“I must point out that it is Captain Saunders.”

“The time when I might be impressed by your rank has passed us,” she said, “and I do not reject it for any accusation of treason. I reject it for how you act here, tonight. You think your honor, your chance to be an honorable man, is in the past, and so you befoul the present.”

“And the future!” I added brightly.

“I understand that your wit keeps you sane, sir, but you must set it aside now and again, or you shall ever remain a wretch.”

I suddenly felt very sober. And ambushed, I might add. It was cruel to lead me into a position of vulnerability, only to take advantage of my open nature. That was what I told myself. “If there has been some misunderstanding between us-” I began.

“There is no misunderstanding. Do not try to pretend that either of us can believe it. Have you no decency?”

I was prepared to answer sharply, but I suddenly saw things with a starkness I would have preferred to avoid. “No,” I told her. “At times, I haven’t.”

She must have heard something in my voice, for even in the frail wash of candlelight I saw the pity in her eyes, and pity was a thing I could not endure. “You are a very sad man, are you not, Captain Saunders?”