Chapter Forty-TwoMaria
July 5, 1804, New York City
Jacob and I had come to the city to see the opera The Poor Soldier, which had been President Washington's favorite. He'd seen it right here, at the Park Theatre. We lingered on for a few days, although the streets reeked of rancid garbage and filth in the scorching heat. I longed for our country home and fresh air.
Jacob went to visit some friends whilst I headed for the Battery in hopes of a cool breeze. I joined the stream of clerks and commercial men hurrying down the Broad Way, brows knitted and lips pressed together. It was then I saw those violet eyes. I halted in my tracks.
So did he.
“Alex.” We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. He finally opened his arms and embraced me, right there on the street. “Maria,
