#spcrited

                                                   combahee river, south carolina    august 26, 1782 dearest margarita,

in all my struggles between duty and inclination — throughout every battle, every march — my heart has been with you, though so many miles separate us.  i am sure alexander, given he has been receiving my letters, has relayed to you news of my illness — i would entreat you not to fret over it, for though feverish i am as well as any in our troops.  i’m sure you can imagine how restless i have been to return to the fight, but there is good news in store — i’ve been given command of a battalion, news of a stray group of redcoats having reached us several nights ago.  at first light tomorrow, we will ride on them — i intend to make a final effort, after our victory at yorktown, to drive out these men, though our army is reduced to almost nothing.

a request, now, must be made.  as always, i have no way of knowing how the battle tomorrow will fare, if the stars shall turn fate against us, though i confess to be less than sanguine in my outlook.  the night grows closer — i hope you will forgive me any errors in this text, as candles provide such meager light, and my hand shakes for reasons beyond my knowledge — but i regret, already, any events hence that may not allow me to return to you.  i fear you may think me selfish for this, but i entreat you not to mourn me for long, should that be the resolution of this fight.  such enchanting smiles as yours exist normally only on the faces of angels ; i could not stand to be the reason that smile fades.  it would be an inexcusable offense to allow such a thing to occur, and, my peggy, i would rather be execrated than to be the catalyst of that tragedy.

i would beg you to remember that even if my heart fails to stir, the whole of it will always be wherever you may be.  dream of me, as i will of you in my amaranthine rest.  i send all my love, and urge you to not forget the unalterable sentiments of your affectionate laurens, even subsequent of whatever may occur tomorrow.   i long to see you again — whether in this earthly career or in the happy immortality that lies just beyond.  adieu, my dear girl.

it’s at a charity event his dad is sponsoring ( essentially a ball, though no one calls them that anymore ) that jack remembers the wedding.  the room goes double, and suddenly he’s seeing alexander and elizabeth get married, his best friend/lover looking the happiest he’d ever been while john had gulped down several glasses of champagne and tried to keep a happy demeanor.  he remembers her — margarita schuyler, peggy, with her yellow dress that perfectly matched her constant excitement.  they’d danced, they’d snuck off together, they’d talked.  and then his mind returns to the charity gala, present day, eighteen years old and in the age of cars and cell phones, not of revolutions and balls.  he jots the basics of the memory down in a note on his phone, and doesn’t think about it.