Chapter SevenEliza
Thurs. Eve, Half Ten
“Alex,” I approached my husband sitting at his desk. “I'm sorry to interrupt.”
He peered at me over his specs. “What is it, Betsey? I have loads of work to do.”
“That's what I have to tell you.” I stood in the doorway, never entering until invited. No invite was forthcoming, so I plowed on. “I know you're far too busy for me. But I am too ailing for you. I do not belong here now. At such a crucial time in our nation's growth, I am simply in the way. Your talents are in too much demand for me to expect your affection. President Washington and the nation need you more than I do. Besides, the children are still at Albany, and I miss them.”
Pen still poised over the paper he'd been writing on, he nodded. “Tis probably best. I haven't time for much e
