Chapter 34: Benediction

It's been a week since Lillian's return to Mount Vernon to assess the murder with the Marquis de Lafayette. They had sent letters to their respective people. Each sent one to George Washington, then Lafayette had reached out to Lt. Colonel Hamilton, and Lillian had alerted Benjamin.

She knew Benjamin would be on his dragoon patrols until her return either the end of the week or later into fall, but Lillian wasn't expecting a letter sent from Ben sometime after her departure. Not any letter, but a love letter that had her eyes welling up with happy, hopeful tears. It's some more words she's been longing to hear since being a little girl:

Dear Beloved,

I am writing this letter as a token of my love for you, as a keepsake for you to treasure, and as a reminder of my commitment to us, our pending courtship I eagerly await, and to our life together. I want you to know that I love you, all of you, and I always will.

I shall be waiting at camp for your safe return. Is it too much to inform you that I'll be waiting at the entrance for your carriage? Every day will be dull and gray until you return to camp brightening it whole. Until then, I long to take you in my arms and hold you close, letting all the world slip away.

Enjoy your time at home and rest, you are most deserving of it and need it.

Affectionately yours,

Benjamin Tallmadge

.

Lillian folded the letter closed with a pleasant sigh before placing it in her box of letters inside her drawer. She had to prepare herself for the long day ahead, which consists of a gathering of women for tea, and a most likely confrontation with the dreaded Mary Floyd. The haughty woman always making snide comments to her person and brings up the topic of men. Particularly the absence of one in her life.

While she checked her reflection in the mirror of her vanity, ensuring her elaborate high roll was the highest it could be and one lock of hair cascading over her shoulder was finely curled, the regal clack of an officer's heel-to-toe stepping of boots stopping in her bedroom's doorway diverted her anxious albeit angry thoughts.

The twinkling eyes of the young, strapping Marquis de Lafayette meet her own that are full of relief.

Smiling with a slight bow of his head, he tells her with his naturally soft French inflection, "I am here to escort you en bas."

Lillian's head turns to the side in confusion. Bas sounding like basement, she figures downstairs is what he meant. "There's no need in my own home, monsieur-"

"-I know." He smoothly interrupts. The gentle up-curve of his closed lips hold all the mischievousness in the world. "Perhaps it would surprise 'ze women you told me about. It would render them speechless and hopefully not cause you to be 'ze target of rude gossip."

Lillian smirks at his scheming, "It could greatly help. I wouldn't mind seeing some of their mouths open like a goldfish."

Lafayette returns her smirk and extends his arm for her to take, minding the large, pristine white cuff of his Continental blue uniform. "My lady…"

Lillian takes it letting him lead her side by side through the hall and to the top of the staircase. The two of them became a brother and sister this past week. Their conversations full of play, laughter, and even heart when there's personal admissions that are private, as well as endearing sibling actions, something Lillian and Patsy would always have towards one another. It was a breather from butting heads with her brother Jacky. How Lafayette treats her is how she wished her own half-brother would be towards her now instead of retaining his pig-headedness and rude comments he thinks is all well. Sometimes it is, but of late it can be annoying or downright insulting. She could not help but think his actions match his words.

"If you wouldn't mind… it'd be amazing if you could speak some charming French when you depart from me down there." Lillian returns the squeeze of his hand he had given her in guarantee. "I'll be sure to ensure them you are married."

"I am much ahead of you. Need not worry," he winks with a soft chuckle, not wanting the women downstairs to hear their exchange. "Some may even think we are seeing another despite, oui?"

Lillian quirks an eyebrow, "It would raise suspicion, surely. They shouldn't take it seriously unless they've heard my brother's beliefs on you remaining here. It would be a good laugh for us."

Lafayette hums in agreement, "It would be fun and make 'ze day go by fast for 'ze two of us. This could brighten our spirits." She giggles with the General at how he believes this to be so much fun. Not only is his stay before his departure a momentary pause in his constant combatant efforts for the war, but France must be very boring for him. This was a break in his life he is enjoying to the fullest, and Lillian is honored she can be that confidant for him and raise his spirits that others cannot.

The dark smoke from every fire pit rises into the brisk air, and carried on in the slight, tickling breeze blowing through the camp. In particular, much to Benjamin's favor, the smoke from the orange glow at his feet rises perfectly up to his face to hide his fixed gaze on Reverend Worthington prepping to give a small sermon a few feet away.

He analyzes every movement the reverend makes speaking to a soldier, searching for any suspicious actions to somehow help Ben's nerves and convince himself that the reverend needs to be killed. But to no avail, the guilt spreads like a poison ivy rash across his chest.

While George Washington gave him orders to kill the reverend and Ben certainly accepted those orders to carry out himself, it doesn't mean there is something they don't know. Such as the reverend being legitimate, and only doing so for money. Yes, it is wrong and a crime altogether, but if he could somehow talk the reverend into staying in the camp, then the chances of him being put to death would decrease because Benjamin would have him questioned. And should the man be truthful and show no further harm to Washington and 'change his ways', then the man could be saved. This is what Caleb hopes is the case as well.

"Revere nd! 'Morning," Benjamin smiles as warm as he could muster. His left hand self-consciously goes to his left hip, relaxing at the end of his waistcoat where his sabre is attached.

"Ah, Benjamin." The Reverend spoke with some shock. Disillusioned, his eyes divert from the Major's gaze to his feet, continuing to walk away. But Ben makes it to his side and matches his stride before otherwise.

Once the reverend acknowledges him, Ben asks, "Will you be traveling along with the camp?"

"No, no, I'm off to Fairfield." He answers with a sigh.

"What, New Jersey?" Ben feigns surprise.

"Yeah…" The reverend nods with a frown. "The good Reverend Martin has been ministering to my home church in my stead. He hasn't been paid in quite some time. Riding out after the morning benediction to see it done."

Ben quickly responds, his heart honestly oozing with some concern. "That means you'll be crossing through no man's land. That's far too dangerous."

The sun hits right in the reverend's eyes, almost forcing him to look to Ben who is half in the shade, "I can't abandon my duties because the road is rough." Perhaps not.

"Reverend," Ben reaches for his arm to stop him for a moment, "you haven't read the scouting reports. Tory cowboys hunt for men traveling alone. Let me send an escort along with you."

Reverend Worthington smiles understandingly, and reassures him in all confidence, "I've made the trip before, my son. Don't worry. I'll be back before the camp reaches Middle Brook."

Ben lets him walk away to do his sermon, and accepts that a confrontation in the woods may have to happen after all. Of course, he won't just do it like that, kill the reverend that is, but he'll give the man one more chance.

Heading to his tent as the reverend begins his benediction, Benjamin shuts himself in securely and begins to hurriedly remove his entire uniform changing into dark, neutral civilian clothes as well as packing a haversack holding only his pistol. He is to be quick and silent.

"Now, let's begin with the words of Psalm 23. 'The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake… Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for Thou art with me.'"

The glistening white wig of the Marquis de Lafayette caught Martha's eye in the main dining room. She watched him and her daughter round the corner of the end of the staircase and proceeded to the front parlor, with Lillian's arm tucked with his, where the women are to have tea and talk.

Prior to entering the parlor hearing some of the women's chatter die down hearing their footsteps, Lafayette loses his grin to mask his amusement.

"Are you ready, ma chère? (my dear)" Lillian nods her head politely, but he notices her hesitation. "Do not think too much over z'your thoughts. 'Tis only tea! Don't think too much of what they tell you."

She leans up to peck a kiss on his cheek with a confident smile. "Thank you."

Lillian and he soon enter the parlor with a pleasing air around them, her dressed in a canary yellow robe a la franchaise that's a perfect shade to end of summer and start of fall. During the three-day trip from New Jersey to home, they witnessed the season change and all of the trees gradually turning vibrant orange the further south they travelled, especially through Maryland.

The finely dressed young women now stand from their cushioned chairs hold their glasses of punch or cups of tea. The women including three of the Schuyler sisters and Mary Floyd with her sister Nicoll. Lillian glances all around for Peggy Shippen who was supposed to be here, and found it odd she never received a letter of her absence. She reasoned that perhaps there was something wrong and she would send a letter late.

"Mademoiselles," Lafayette bows his head to them who had all straightened their posture. Their eyes dart between him and Lillian, not expecting to see a well-dressed officer on her arm who is also a French aristocrat.

Lafayette looks to Lillian raising her hand to his cherry red lips to place a chaste kiss upon it. His smile small and innocent.

"Here you are, Lillian. Brillez et profitez (shine and enjoy)," He tells her. Then he steps away with a full bow and extended an arm as well like he was presenting her before the ladies. "Appelez-moi si vous en avez besoin (call upon me if you need)."

Lillian nodded her head with feign shyness, but her beaming smile was true as she watched him turn on his heel and walk to another part of the house to a different room with her mother, visiting brother, the young women's mothers, and Washington relatives like her aunts and uncles. Unfortunately, her camp confidant Caty Greene couldn't make this trip; she had returned home to Rhode Island pregnant, and goes where her husband is stationed. Her husband General Nathanael Greene was now serving as the Continental Army's quartermaster general.

"Now who was that?" Angelica Schuyler blushes, eyeing every last step of the French General.

"That was the Marquis, you met him years ago at a war council in our home!" her sister Elizabeth nudges her sister with a whisper, careful to not knock over her cup of tea. "Mind your manners, sister."

Angelica rolls her eyes, twirling a lock of her dark blonde hair. "I always do," she whispers in return. "But I can't mind my eyes when they like what they see. Besides, I didn't recognize him, probably because Lillian was with him so I thought he was an available Frenchman."

Lillian smiled and nodded to everyone in the room, they were all conversing prior to her entrance, but she noticed Mary Floyd by herself, standing against the wall sipping on some punch.

She decided to go up to her and begin friendly conversation. Like nothing bad had happened between them in the past.

"Miss Floyd," she greets first before turning casual, "how are you Mary?" Lillian kindly asks the woman she's known for some time. She's hoping whatever this woman has against her, or did, is all water under the bridge.

"Ah Lilly!" She surprises her with a gentle smile. "I am very well thank you for asking. I was craving this drink the entire trip here. My compliments to your mother."

"Oh, thank you, I will be sure to tell her. The heat was dry this year. Hopefully getting cooler soon," Lillian took a glass of punch from Maria walking around the room holding a tray of either tea or punch.

"Forget the weather, now how have you been since the ball last summer? I hear Colonel Hamilton is keen on you. He was all over you at that dance, do tell!" Mary eagerly asks with a beaming smile, setting her trap. Right into the men, every time.

"Yes he is, was I should correct you. Wonderful man. We courted for a short time after that because someone else came along… for me," Lillian explains with an uncontrollable blush sweeping across her face.

"Someone better than Alexander Hamilton?" Her pointy nose dips down with her face in shock.
"Despite his lack of wealth, he is all the rage with the doxie-delles in camp and high society I hear. Don't tell me it's the Marquis you were just with!" Lillian could not help but raise an eyebrow ever so gently at the upper-class Mary using that camp term. She couldn't shake the nerves of understanding how the gossip that spreads in the camp bleeds out into high society; even more now… How small this world really is compared to how big it seems.

Along with that thought, she grasps how often these men travel and attend war councils in different states and homes. It's insane how many of the officers in camp she knows on a day to day basis are most likely familiar with the women in this parlor.

"No he is married. He's a brother figure of sorts as often as he is with my father." Lillian is sure to mention.

"Then who?" Mary asks right when Angelica and Elizabeth cross the room to join their conversation. They look to Lillian with expectation.

"His name is Benjamin. Major Benjamin Tallmadge. He's in the cavalry."

The women gasp in fondness hearing his title and that he's a cavalryman, and they giggle at her admission. But Mary raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly.

"So that's what happened…" Mary trails off before explaining herself. She placed her empty glass of punch down for some tea. "My parents tried to match him with me."

Lillian felt her mouth go dry as the punch went down her suddenly hot throat. Her own perfume overwhelming her senses, she continued to blink in surprise of what Mary just said.

Angelica broke the silence, "Oh you would have only been writing, Mary. He would have only seen you after the entire war."

"Isn't he a bit more of a desk worker?" Elizabeth turns to Lillian who was still trying to gather her thoughts.

Finally, Lillian nods her head, "Oh yes. He's handling correspondence with all of the officers in some manner. They all deal with their own paperwork at some point. But he helps my father greatly, advising him and plans. Mostly on patrols and undertakings, in fact."

She turns to Mary who suddenly seemed too quiet. Her face was showing no sign of snobbish comments or meanness. Mary is almost reflective in her gaze.

"I suppose everything does happen for a reason!" Mary smiles, raising her cup of tea before taking a sip. "You deserve a good, well-to-do gentleman, Lillian."

Lillian couldn't help but return a genuine, friendly smile. Her words were, for once, honest and sweet. "And so do you Mary. Truly."

"So, when have you started courting him? Because the last letters my family has shared with him was over the summer." So that's why he wasn't ready to ask my father! Lillian thinks to herself feeling a tad light-headed. He was juggling her prospects and the potential of courting Mary? And not telling her? No… he wouldn't. He was probably trying to let her down easy, and politely.

"Actually, not yet." Lillian retains a neutral face and hoping her eyes are shining in hope and not with unease. "He is very work-oriented, especially at this time, and focused on pleasing my father's wishes before he will ask his permission."

"Oh the ache you must feel. Both of you!" Mary exclaims while Elizabeth winks at Lilly with a confident smile. "I'm surprised your father is even giving him a thought. He was only a school superintendent! To not wed you off for you and your family's happiness during this time is upsetting."

"We're all making sacrifices during this. One day, I am sure of it, it will not have cost us everything," Lillian replies eloquently as her mother would. She must avoid the cheese in the trap.

Angelica places a hand on Lilly's shoulder, and gives her a small smile, "Distance truly makes the heart grow fonder. Despite you seeing him every day in camp… as well as many other good-looking men I'm sure?" She had lowered her tone while wiggling a single eyebrow in question causing the women to laugh lively.

But Elizabeth was the first to cut hers short, sure to remind her sister, "You are married now. Mind your tongue."

"Yes there are good-looking men, Angelica, available too," Lillian clarifies to the two single women after her laughter dies down. Then the older Schuyler sister continues.

"…then that's an even fonder connection. He will pine for you and you for him, which is bound to set a strong foundation for your pending relationship, and blossoming romance." Lillian bows her head softly to the woman in thanks, raising her glass with Angelica's.

But before Lillian can change the subject to Angelica's husband, Mary chimes in, "But are you covered in blood from your patients? I've always wondered how you present yourself in such a messy, crude place for any woman."

Lillian shrugs gently, "Not entirely. An apron is over my dress as I save many soldier's lives. Some stains are inevitable. As for officer dinners I always have a clean dress."

Mary nods her head, "I see. Then that is well the sight of dirt and blood doesn't deter a man's sights."

Not knowing how to respond to that, she dismisses it as her last words of the conversation before speaking to the other women. Mary left their circle to join her sister Nicoll and Peggy Schuyler.

"She'll be fine. Many men are at her doorstep. I saw them," Elizabeth sighs taking another sip, walking with Lillian and Angelica to the pastry table. "I believe it very honorable and courageous for you to do what you do Lillian. If I was able to, or my father letting me help heal the wounded, I would join you."

"You're too kind, Eliza," Lillian smiles at the sweet woman. Her brown hair styled as high as Lillian's, and her dark brown eyes shining with innocence and grandeur. They could almost be twins. "There are many other noble duties you can do to help the war effort. Hosting the officers and generals as you and your family do are just as great as the others."

Elizabeth shakes her head, "Oh it's getting bad. This is all I will say on the matter, but Congress' funding is lacking. The rebel camps may be in for a rough season ahead."

"If your mother can keep the small circle of women together to keep making supplies for the soldiers, then that will be most beneficial. The little things help in any way," Angelica mentions, taking a bite out of a lemon tart. "Anyway, you must hear enough of that, you're trying to return to normal now. You want to hear about my husband?"

"Yes!" Lillian gushes, eager to hear about her marriage. Marriage stories and how people met always captivated her. "Please do tell. What's his name?"

"John Barker Church. How fitting is that, Angelica Church?" The woman jests with a playful eyeroll. Lillian smirks at her humor. "He supplies the army with weapons and audits their accounts; and on the side banking, shipping, land business… you name it. Now he's trying to become a father."

"Oh Angelica!" Elizabeth sends a ruffled look to her sister, swatting her gently on the shoulder.

"It's fine Eliza, she's being honest," Lillian chuckles at the sister's constant banter. "Of course, he would want to be a father as soon as possible. To your future beautiful children."

"Thank you, Lilly," Angelica bows her head with a light blush. "I look forward to becoming a mother. Just… I suppose like you, being only a year apart from you, I still feel like I could have been free just a bit longer."

"Angelica, John's a wonderful man. You could not have wished or asked for better. You're well provided for and both of you are happy," Eliza tells her. "Lillian's very close herself to settling down."

Lillian swallows down her inner humiliation. Even if she's blessed with parents who want the best for her and her happiness, and she is graced with many options, she admits that she is still ashamed of her growing older and not in a deep, intense courtship with marriage in the close future.

Oh Ben… It is so close. She can feel it as well as Ben's eyes, blue as the sky, looking at her from far away.

"Yes, I do hope it's soon," Lillian nods her head. "To give my parents grandchildren is a dream I pray to come true."

"It will be here sooner than you know," Angelica smiles to her lastly before departing. "I'm going to go freshen up, and maybe go outside on the back lawn."

"I think I will join you, sister," Eliza calls back to her walking away. "Oh how I have turned into the older sibling with her. She's hoping to see the Marquis. Will you join us outside?"

"Oh not yet, after I have a couple more pastries maybe," Lillian replies, "enjoy yourselves! Thank you, Eliza." After the other sister left, Lillian turned to the table to take in all that she has been told. But she wasn't alone. Mary came up beside Lilly, reaching for a lemon tart with her.

"Idle men are foolish; do you know this?" Mary asks her.

Lillian bristles, but keeps her poise. "Benjamin, as I recall telling you, is not idle. He is ever so busy and on patrols—"

"—I meant with his stagnant feelings… for you," Mary explains. Probably because your parents and most likely you were writing him to cause that… Lillian holds back an eye roll. "Has Ben made moves to be close to you?"

Lillian shakes her head, dismissing it, chewing hard on her tasty tart, "Of course we have kissed, we discuss courtship all the time! He holds me close when we walk—"

"-No dear, I mean touch. Has he ever taken your hands and tossed them around his neck and deepened his passion for you? With nothing but tents around, that is what happens in those camps. So rumor is…"

"Believe me we share a deep kiss once in a while," Lillian reassures the woman with a proud grin. "He is a gentleman. You know this already."

"Lillian, I'm not trying to put thoughts into your head or be rude. I apologize for my forwardness, but I suppose fellow forward people bring that out of me." She manages to relate, finding common ground. "It's good that your forwardness didn't scare him off. I am warning you how men can be. Those soldiers too, the lonely ones…" she hushes her voice. "They are frisky if they are deprived of something. Ben is deprived of you right now and you two aren't even courting."

"We have an agreement," Lillian sighs exhausted from this woman's need for juicy details and gossip. There's nothing bad she can do with it. "I'm the only woman he has ever loved."

"All men have played the field." Mary rebukes gently with a gaze of her own wisdom and experience.

Lillian shakes her head, "Not all. I know others who cannot afford their time with women. Many officers are bachelors building their name… focusing on their present to build a happy future with someone of their choosing, and their consent of course."

"But even your Alexander Hamilton made the effort and his intentions clear early on," Mary reminds her. Lillian's heart grows tender at the mention of his name, as it always will because he is a friend for life, and will always be a what-could-have-been. He did treat her so well and still. "He's a dashing catch."

"He is not mine anymore, Mary," Lillian lowers her head and picks up one last pastry from the silver platter on the table brought into the parlor. "He is very focused on the war effort. His duties to country are first and foremost."

"But when he was with you..." Mary shakes her head in disbelief with a stunned smile. "He spoke to your father and made things happen! This Benjamin, he is leaving your father out of it still. It leads me to believe he is only after you…"

"Well, yes I am the one he's courting, not my father is he seeking."

"But for one thing and nothing serious. One sided." Mary mumbles before quoting a line from Shakespeare, and departing from her side, "I am to wait, though waiting so be hell."

Lillian chest heaves when Mary turned and left the parlor in a flurry of bustling, burgundy fabric. Lilly remained staring straight at her trembling reflection in the gilded mirror feeling frustrated and belittled. Even if some things the haughty woman said was true, what she is doing is getting further under her skin—or more like, trying to jeopardize her and Ben's bond.

~ The day after Lillian's departure from camp… ~

Deep in the woods of no man's land, Benjamin approaches the reverend, who is digging beneath the leaves fallen on the Earth for his dead drop, and voices his presence, "You've strayed from the path, Reverend."

"Benjamin," the reverend staggers backwards stashing his flask in his coat, "what are you doing here?"

"We received word that you were a traitor, but now I have the proof."

"Proof?" The reverend makes to play it off rather well, holding his folded papers as he gestured to the fallen tree. "Oh, no, this this isn't what - let me let me explain."

"Explain what?" Benjamin questions. His eyes darken like the sea in a storm beneath his black tricorn. "How you were paid by Royal Governor Tryon and Mayor Mathews to spy on our camp?"

"No." The reverend shakes his head fitfully.

"No? Well, perhaps the contents of that letter can clear things up, eh?" Benjamin swallows as he gives the man his chance. "Why not read it to me?"

When the reverend failed to react to his demand, Ben clicked his flintlock and held it up threateningly. He didn't want to be here as much as the reverend right now. As it was, he was remaining alert in no man's land for any threats to himself.

"Read the letter."

The reverend stutters, with shaking hands he opens the canister and turns the note into his hands before reading aloud.

"I write to you with important information about Wash—Washington's movements." He pauses, breaking into a sob meeting icy Continental eyes that can see right through him. "The main army, consisting of the Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania brigades is moving… to—to Middle Brook near the Bridgewater Township."

"Why?" Ben grits his teeth trying to keep his voice down. "Why do this, hmm? Why, for politics? For money?"

"As an act of grace!" the snake hisses.

A bitter scowl spreads across Ben's face, and his eyes burn with rage. He is livid with himself for even having an ounce of hope for this man! A reverend spy, he couldn't believe it.

"I minister to the sick and dying every day!" the reverend went on to make his last words count. Lillian… Ben's thoughts stray right to her, and imagining her large, eternally innocent eyes witnessing the horrors of the sick and dying. His finger tickled the trigger of his pistol and his grip tightened into a cold-hard hold. His heart has never raced so fast. This was reckless but necessary.

In all self-confidence and bitterness, Reverend Worthington defends what honor he has left, and Ben could hardly stand to hear any more of it. "I see their agony while I pray for their deliverance. Washington is a fool."

That was it. The nail in the coffin.

Blood pooled from the reverend's chest and spilled from his vile lips still gasping for air while the gunshot seemed to echo on and on throughout the quiet woods. Some ravens in the treetops took off in a rustle, cawing as they flew away. Until finally the traitor fell to his knees, then his side before succumbing to death.

The nerves finally leave Benjamin as he steady's his breaths, making his ears ring sounding as loud as the ravens squalling after the shot. Now he needs to act quick to hide this man's body, and haul himself back to the safe confinements of camp and out of no man's land.

Lillian approaches her brother in their father's study, a place Jacky rarely goes inside if he has at all. After shutting the door behind her, catching his attention from him facing one of the bookcases, she pauses where she stands seeing him frown. His dark, long luscious hair in disarray as if he didn't care to brush it this morning.

"What are you doing in here?" She asks her brother in wonder, seeing he is in fact holding a book their father always reads.

"I'm searching for something father used to quote from this old rag all the time. Why are you looking for me?" Jacky asks her, turning away to stare at pages he flips through nonchalantly. One of his hands goes to pat his navy-blue vest for a pair of reading spectacles.

Lillian folds her hands in front of her, "Yes I am. I need to talk to you about something important."

"Oh!" Jacky chuckles as he still faces his corner. His shoulders shaking. "Can't talk about it with your darling Lafayette? Or is he too much of a brother now?"

Lillian's mouth parts in offense before glaring into the back of Jacky's head which finally turns to face her as well as the rest of himself. He discards the book with a careless thump on the edge of the shelf when he leans back against it with both arms, facing his half-sister.

"You look like Patsy's old canary," he comments dryly on her elaborate, yellow dress.

Ignoring the comment, she defends Lafayette. "He's a charming, wonderful man who understands many things I say, but this is very private. I'd like to tell you this only for your opinion since—"

"—Lilly I honestly don't care. You and those women, most particularly that Mary Floyd, are just gossiping and miserable always trying to one up the other. If that's what it's about then I don't want to hear it. You know to think nothing of it."

"It is not, if you'd only let me speak!" Lillian argues back, her small hand reaching to her cheek in hesitation. "It's about men and how to know…"

"Oh!" Jacky exclaims once more. "Is that something you don't know for once? You're so desperate to come to me for help?"

Lillian's eyes water at her brother's words. Her lip trembles being put on the spot. "Jacky I don't understand what you mean. I've always come to you for these things. I don't know everything."

Jacky's jaw clenches in annoyance, rolling his eyes. "That is a lie and you know it. Quit downplaying yourself and maybe you'll understand men's behavior towards you, like my own!"

"Don't talk to me like that!" Lillian hands drop to her sides in clenched fists as she marches up to him, getting in his face and raising her finger. "I am humble much to the likes of you. I know what men are after. I am still unwed and uncommitted for that reason during these trying times!"

"Aw that must ache," Jacky's comment causes Lillian to squeeze her lips shut and heart stop at the familiarity of his words like Mary's. "You should have settled for what was best at the time and married before the war like I had. Then maybe we'd both make father happy together with grandchildren who are the best of friends… though I'll be in your shadow still…"

"Are you mad?!" Lillian snaps, stepping back from her brother. "You're his son! He-"

"Dammit Lilly he favors you! He always has!" Jacky's eyes are full of fury and pent up anger. "For once I just wish you would see that. But you can't humble yourself enough to bring yourself down to my level. Perhaps if I were a poor soldier in rags then you'd try to understand. Maybe father would realize it then."

Shaking her head erratically, tears spill from her eyes. Her brother could not ever join the fight. He is in no position; he is inept and better off being an up-keeper of land and family.

"George loves you and you could never see that," Lilly lowers her voice. "He loves his entire family more than anything. But it is no one's job to make you see or feel that, or to make you a man to realize that after all these years."

Jacky grunts, nodding his head as he steps closer to Lilly, staring her right in the eyes. His chubby face worn, downtrodden, but his sweat shines like the gilded life he has always seen.

"You don't think I'm a man? Of course I'm not, everything you say is accurate." He pokes his finger into her shoulder enunciating every word. "I am my own man. Everyone is different and I've realized that father does not understand that after all these years. Now excuse me, before things get overheated in here." Lillian licks her lips.

"You seriously will not listen to what I have to ask you?" Lillian asks him. "Where is this coming from?"

Jacky shakes his head as he continues walking out of the office, leaving her alone, "No, not today. You're oblivious. I'll deal with you when my head is clear."

"John!" Lillian uses his real name in shock. But he shuts the door behind him and she collapses to her knees, her dress pooling about her as she controls her breathing and tears. Her brother is exasperating to no end, she knows this. Everyone in their family does. She'll get to the bottom of it because a Washington never gives up. She just hopes her lazy, confounding brother hasn't already.

Benjamin was dragging the reverend into dark waters of the lake nearby. Even as meticulously as he grabbed the man's holy cross necklet off his corpse and reached under his shoulder's pulling like a pack-mule to the lake, he still managed to get blood on his hands. Thankfully his dark clothes hide any blood that dripped or flew onto him. He wasn't looking forward to dealing with having those cleaned next. Before entering the water, Ben removed his tricorn out of respect. He wasn't going to wear a hat at this awful, shameful funeral.

Wading in the water, the man's weight lessened as the water held him up as long as Ben's hands was gripping his priest collar. He walked waist deep, and hurriedly he drifted the man in front of him, and let him sink into the lake. The lake almost bubbling like a boiling pot at the sin he has committed. But it was an act of grace.

"That's no way to treat a man of God, Tallmadge." A man's raspy, distantly familiar voice hangs in the fall breeze. Benjamin had no time to act fast or even think his next steps after drowning the reverend.

He turned around as soon as he heard the voice, his arms above the water in fright.

The man, also in civilian clothes though more ruffian in look, cocks his gun, pointing it at him. His icy blue eyes alight with pride underneath his hat. "No need to move. You're fine there."

Ben's eyes widen, recognizing the man, "Gamble?"

"So you do know my name…" His British inflection with a hint of Scottish, leers at the Continental Major and Head of Intelligence he's been hunting for. "Spares me the introduction. Tell me, Major, what did your lot do with that fool Shanks? Hang him? Enlist him?"

"You were the reverend's contact. So he was working for Andre." Benjamin mutters quietly to himself, meaning for Gamble to hear should he be wrong in his words.

"We were supposed to meet today, actually," Gamble's eyebrows quirk up. "Looks like you spared me that introduction as well… Move to shore."

Benjamin inhales sharply, understanding his own, dangerous predicament. He does as he is told.

"Slow and steady." Gamble steps closer, his gun pointing right at Ben as he wades closer to shore, his arms raised in surrender and peace. He makes it about knee deep before Gamble stops him.

"That's far enough… Turn around." The scarred face man commands.

Ben trembles, his hands shaking as he turns around facing the lake. He is vulnerable and defenseless. All he has left is his tongue, which he doesn't believe could help him now. But what Gamble says next, Ben's eyes water heavily and tears stream down his face.

"Now kneel down."

His entire life flashed before his eyes as he slowly kneeled. Every millimeter he lowered himself to he felt his heart sink yards deeper. All of what's important to him tied with the Lord's love flooded to the front of his mind waver after wave in a bittersweet monsoon. I have failed… Lillian won't have me… I won't have my Lilly…

He felt Gamble's presence inch closer with the gun pointing right at the back of his head. Ben's mouth furled into a scorn, as he made to defend himself one last time and try saving his own life. As God as his witness.

"I… am an officer in the Continental Army... Protocol dictates—" The gun was smacked on the side of his head, rendering him unconscious and sending him face first into the murky water.

A/N: I hope all of you are well and safe during this time, and that this update has brightened your day! I've been working on this chapter since my college shut down and trying to update. Finally got it completed and will have the next one up soon.

The cute, cinnamon roll Marquis de Lafayette- he is a great brother figure to Lillian... Though her half-brother Jacky, he was like that in real life. His history is sad, so I'm trying to bring out his good and he will surely have a place in this story to the end. Just imagining him with a still living sister like Lillian, he would be a complicated man and jealous one.

Mary Floyd and her will have their one on one, don't y'all worry. Why Mary is like that will be revealed next.

Now with Hamilton... I figured that if Washington had a daughter in real-life, men would be all over her and trying to gain her hand in marriage especially the obsessive Alexander Hamilton. If Lillian was a historical person, I believe Hamilton would always have his eyes on her (as he had other women... like some other men of his time..) and he would have a place in his heart for her. He would probably feel like the king of America if she were his wife.

! Hearts and Minds next !

Thank you for continuing to read, follow, and favorite.

Much love, and Stay tuned! :)